I sit ankles crossed comfortably in the armchair, perhaps a little over-warm, but I love this suit and it's not yet time to take it off. It's a three piece in a navy blue herringbone so dark that it's almost black. It fits me like armour, just so. No nips or slack folds, well-tailored. Snowy … Continue reading Felicity Pinned
A tall angular step-pyramid of books on a desk on an Autumn afternoon. The base consists of the big black gold-embossed board-bound fancy Thames & Hudson editions of The Anglo Saxons, The Flowering of the Middle Ages, The Medicis. Then more colourful steps, narrowing with modernity, Matisse, Schiele, Toulouse Lautrec. The structure is topped off … Continue reading Sexual Engineering 2: Test to Destruction.
There is a particular way in which Cecilia's belly hangs when she's on all fours. A slow beautiful double curve from rib to navel and c-section, it gives soft and fleshy emphasis to the breadth between her hip-bones and leads the eye to the soft inviting triangle of her muff, and the slotted gap between … Continue reading Sexual Engineering I: Construction.
Cecilia's wardrobe contains many dresses, many confections, many costumes. Colours, birds, beasts and trees and grasses, sky and sea. All the worlds and characters that she puts on. Some squeeze and primp, while others drift and sweep. Many, most indeed, she made herself. These she prefers for the most part, and knows their power. She's … Continue reading Taste of Glory: Filthy, Part IV.