To say we are all living in strange times – and unprecedentedly strange times – is an understatement.

I know I’m not alone thinking and expressing that sentiment while living and breathing its reality. Day after day, the toll of this COVID-19 pandemic grows ever greater, the reality heartbreaking and life altering in ways that defy the imagination. Unlike others, at this very moment I am very lucky – my family, friends, colleagues and I are all healthy and safe, abiding by our national and local restrictions with the gravity they deserve, self isolating and trying our hardest to flatten that curve.

While the work and pace of my professional life have increased exponentially in the last few weeks, like so many I have more time on my hands now my life is focused almost exclusively between these walls. With some of that time, I’ve been revisiting the thousands of frames I’ve photographed over a decade, regarding them (and my body) with new eyes and an often-surprising kindness, fondly recalling those moments, places and desires. A number have been posted on Twitter, others await the possibility of a new form. The remainder I’m hoping to post here once the words I lately struggle to write finally grace the page. (The two shots that accompany this post were captured in a once grand hotel in Manchester during the northern summer of 2015. After days of dreary grey skies and rain, the sun finally broke. On the morning of my departure, the light allowed me to capture some of my best work.)

My wish is a return to my past form and regular posting might bring a little comfort during this stressful and anxious point in our lives – to my loyal friends and readers as well as myself.

On that note, please drop by and indulge yourself at any time if this space gives you joy, inspires your eroticism, exhibitionism or desire, and brings you that comfort. Even though I can’t make as material a difference as I’d like during this time, I want to offer this Love Hate Sex Cake as succour, relief and possibly some light during this despairing darkness.

Be well and stay safe. 

~ Minx x

I miss summer’s sun
drenched mornings, your hard
heat buried deep inside my ravenous flesh.

Lover,

I can hear it. I can hear them.

Even as the world beyond begins to wake. Even as the soundtrack of the new day winds its way into the space between these four walls.

The silent cries of the tangled sheets of snow yearning to bear the marks of your ravenous lust.

The low moans of the mahogany borders ready to imbibe our sweat and screams and molten heat.

The disappointed sigh of a bed that aches to feel your imposing weight, your dominant touch, your crazed desire for supple flesh.

I hear their longing and I feel it, understand it, in my body and blood and bones.

And when I do, I wish you here with us all once more.

Gently upon my skin, carved deep into this flesh,
the memories, the possibility, our loose ends and longing.

Even in the brilliance of the light,
I ache for your darkness
underneath me.

You press your lips to my ear, your fingers
to the gleam and you ignite, all that
burns inside me.

(This shot originally appeared on Nympho Ninjas as my second Submission Sunday entry…)

I am here in hope
Bare want and need
Awaiting again your return
To the palace of our dreams

(This shot originally appeared on Nympho Ninjas as my first Submission Sunday entry…)

More than that impossible moment, more than your desire and audacity, your kiss and sweet skin,
I wanted your words, your trust, your truth and your respect.

Once upon a time, his gaze studied every inch of my fair body, as if it were a wonder born in a bygone era, a curiosity fashioned from canvas and brushstrokes and oils, worthy of the gallery wall, the hungry crowd, deserving of his centre stage.

Once upon a time, his hands roamed with passion, urgency and fervour, as if these curves were chiselled from cold and unyielding marble, this skin and flesh brought to fiery life by desire and her sculptor, softening under his touch, melting on his lips and tongue, reaching and begging for his own thick hard need to claim them.

Once upon a time, he yearned to feel, devour, remember, the woman beyond this creation, the being beyond mere pixels on the screen.

 Slink in to see this week’s delectable players…

I’m unsure you’ll ever truly understand
the erotic power you wield over me.