Author: awesometographer

Daisies were a flower that blossomed, after all…

I enjoyed the feeling of the summer breeze on my legs as I walked down the narrow avenue, lined with quaint bistros and inviting bookstores that sold the kind of books I’d never quite get around to reading. Almost self-consciously, I drew the fabric of my billowing white skirt so it laid flat as I walked. I was in love with the delicate eyelet pattern and the pristine ivory of the dress. It made me feel fashionable, artistic, and utterly European—even though I was none of those things. In my too-expensive boots and designer sunglasses, I knew I was capable of turning heads, but that’s not why I went overboard on the shopping.

It was nice, being someone else for a while. I didn’t feel like my plain, often-awkward self as I strolled down the Cours Mirabeau. I had only been in France for two days, but I was already in love. Aix-en-Provence was not Paris or Marseilles, but had a little bit of a quiet country feel that made me feel right at home. Growing up in a small town in Kentucky, I’d never dreamed I’d look out of a world that was so beautiful, but the South of France had me speechless. Read more »

Bound Massage – [MF – voyeur – submission – all of the above]

Part of this evening was familiar. My husband’s warm, lotioned hands working out the stress in
my neck and shoulders was nothing new.

A few times a week, I’d lay face down, head tucked into a pillow, topless in some comfortable
pajama pants. He’d climb on top, one knee sliding my thighs apart, straddling one leg. He knew
that damn knee, pressed against me in a very intimate manner could be used to enhance the
experience, and slowly ramp up a desire for … further evening activities.

Tonight was heading in that direction, but not like any night before. That was where the
familiarity ended.

I looked forward to the two monitors connected to his computer, one of which reflected my face,
and him above, fading slightly into darkness and blurred from his fancy camera techniques, in
vivid detail.

Why did I have to marry a photographer?

I can’t complain about his creative side too much, it was how we met. I modeled casually in my
twenties, and through mutual friends and parties, we ended up meeting, working together, and
after a wild fling of a weekend, I packed up, moved across the country and never looked back.
Well, I’ve looked back a little at times, but life is good. Read more »

Daisy and Claude in France (full series yet unnamed) [MF][HJ]

    I enjoyed the feeling of the summer breeze on my legs as I walked down the narrow avenue, lined with quaint bistros and inviting bookstores that sold the kind of books I’d never quite get around to reading. Almost self-consciously, I drew the fabric of my billowing white skirt so it laid flat as I walked. I was in love with the delicate eyelet pattern and the pristine ivory of the dress. It made me feel fashionable, artistic, and utterly European—even though I was none of those things. In my too-expensive boots and designer sunglasses, I knew I was capable of turning heads, but that’s not why I went overboard on the shopping.

    It was nice, being someone else for a while. I didn’t feel like my plain, often-awkward self as I strolled down the Cours Mirabeau. I had only been in France for two days, but I was already in love. Aix-en-Provence was not Paris or Marseilles, but had a little bit of a quiet country feel that made me feel right at home. Growing up in a small town in Kentucky, I’d never dreamed I’d look out on a world that was so beautiful, but the South of France had me speechless. Read more »