En Plein Air

erotic poetry

I love the outdoors.

Obviously.

I went snowshoeing in the country during my Christmas vacation,

And sometimes, I like to get a little bit naked–

Top half only–

In the winter.

I did the same thing last year:

Stripping in the woods,

Taking photos,

Pressing my breasts into fresh fluffy snow,

Feeling it melt into ice cold beads on my warm flesh.

It feels delicious and carnal

And a little bit naughty,

Like a secret meeting

Between me and the trees and the snow drifts surrounding me

In my almost nakedness.

Hearing snowmobiles in the near distance adds a little bit of thrill into the mix.

It is hilarious how quickly I throw my clothes back on when I hear them getting closer…

Even though they could probably never get to where I was standing,

As the snow was almost too deep even for snowshoeing.

But of course,

That didn’t stop me from venturing out

Into the wilds

Of the forest,

And of my own sensuality

And fevered eroticism.

❤👽xoxoxo👽❤

Erotic Tale #5: The Museum Visit

Erotic Short Stories & Vignettes, Uncategorized

She liked to visit the Fine Art museum on her days off. Wandering from room to room, taking in all of the delectable visual stimuli, whether a painting by one of the European masters or a Post-Modern abstract installation, she would smile to herself, and caress the sides of her thighs as she gazed at whichever work of human creativity she found before her.

She adored art. She lived for it. She wanted to see it, touch it, smell it, feel it, be inundated by it. Art made her swell, expand, breathe deeper. It excited her in ways she couldn’t put into words.

She knew what it felt like to make it, and was aroused by the thought of other artists feeling the same way as they created. She could feel herself trickling like a little forest brook… and was relieved to be wearing underwear today as it was absorbing the aromatic evidence of her sensorially-drenched arousal.

As she ambled about the various rooms of her preferred museum, she obliviously caught the attention of a man sitting in a far corner of the room, sketchbook open on his lap and a pencil in his hand. His dark eyes followed her as she criss-crossed the room, moving randomly from one painting to another, going towards whichever painting seemed to call to her.

As she stood in front of the painting he was sketching, he noticed her press her legs together and gently bunch up her skirt with her hand, pulling it taut against her right ass cheek. He wiped his brow as he watched her thumb stroking the bare skin of her thigh. He picked up his pencil, flipped to a fresh page, and began to sketch her curves as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his stubbled face.

She heard the sound of his pencil etching, and turned towards him, regarding his furrowed brow and his clandestine work. When he looked up to take her in again, their eyes met, his dark as pitch and hers clear as quartz. He tried to cover his sketch with his hand, but her bright eyes were faster.

He could not read the expression on her face. Was it curiosity? Irritation? Expectation? Were her pupils dilated? He was perplexed because he was so used to seeing people as open books. She was a frustration to him, but one that he found more amusing than annoying.

He noticed her skirt had buttons going up from the hemline to the waist line. The bottom two were already unbuttoned. He found it a rather practical but very sexy design feature; he imagined possibilities with that skirt.

Though he was still trying to decode her, she could read him without any doubt: he was rapt. She had often fantasized of someone wearing that exact look while beholding her, and had never seen it until that moment.

It made her clench her secret parts, and push out an audibly laboured breath. He smiled at her blushing cheeks as he flipped to another fresh page, taking care to hide his substantial erection with his sketchbook.

She noticed it, but didn’t give it away. She tossed a glance over her shoulder to see where the security guard was; he was zoning out by the entrance on the other side of the room. There were no other patrons aside from the two of them, so she slowly started to unbutton her skirt from the bottom up. The last button was positioned right below her belly button. She left that untouched lest her whole skirt fall to the floor.

He glimpsed her floral print thong as she parted her skirt, and her legs. Another bead of sweat slid down the side of his face as she pulled her panties away from the overflowing wellspring at the appex of her ample thighs. His hand started to dance the pencil across the page, sketching out the shaded areas and rolling contours of her glistening sex. He couldn’t pull his eyes from her fluttering shell-pink petals as he translated her hidden beauty to the pages of his sketchbook. He could smell her swollen sea as it ebbed and flowed like waves of oceanic desire as she swirled her finger around and around that protruding node of ecstacy peeking out from under its hood.

His turgid rod pressed into his jeans, filling him with a desperate ache and an undeniable need to enter her, infiltrate her very essence, as she slipped her index finger between her honeyed pussy lips. Then she brought her finger to her mouth and licked it clean. His body spasmed and held in a groan as he issued the final strokes of graphite to the sketch. It was finished now. So was he. So were his cum-stained pants.

And now, so was she. She buttoned down her skirt, gifting him with a crooked mischievous grin, not once breaking eye contact. He dropped his pencil in his waking reverie, and leaned over to retrieve it. As he rose up, pencil in hand, he watched her swaying hips as she walked away, and he was frozen stiff with unyielding lust. He was too much of a mess to pursue her… but they both knew this would not be the last encounter.

🖌❤👽xoxoxo👽❤🖌

Painting with Body Parts #12: Spectral Boob Imprints

painting with body parts, Uncategorized

A weekend in the country usually brings with it a painting session. This weekend was no different.

I knew that I wanted to do something on a black background. With neon colours. Because I was feeling kinda… neon. Sometimes one just feels a little brighter, a little MORE, than usual.

I pulled down my mirror because it is more fun to pour and slather paint all over my body when I can do it along with my reflection. It also makes me feel like I have company. I don’t care if that makes me seem pathetic. I really do enjoy my own company; we are best friends.

Art-making is never just art-making for me, as I have mentioned before. It is a Party-for-One with wine, candlelight, music and tonnes of giggles. Maybe it’s more of a romantic and kinky date, now that I think about it. Unless there are negative emotions and experiences in need of purging…. Then there might be some crying… or anxious sighing in the very least.

This time, the only sighing that took place was the completely satisfied/aroused kind.

I primed the canvas in black, and allowed it to dry.

I played before the mirror in the mean time.

When the canvas was mostly dry, I started pouring neon paint in pink, blue, yellow and green over my breasts. This was the first time that I had an explicitly sexual response to the paint. All others times it was expressly sensual. This time… my nether regions were… ummm… swirling sacral chakra energy.

The next time I do this I will not take a single picture so that I can completely absorb the experience rather than document it. Documenting has its purpose as the process is very much a part of my art, but sometimes it takes away from being present… and that is something I need to do more… every day.

Anyway, this part was my favourite. My fetish metre (is there such a thing) was through the roof.

I took photos of the impression process but believe it or not, they are just a little too intimate to share. There is something very sacred about that part of my process that to display it might rob it of its power. So y’all can just imagine it instead.

I am not quite sure how this image came to be. It looks like spectral fetal twins or something you might see on a Sigur Ros album cover. It looks like I might have two people living inside of me. Makes sense because that is how I often feel. Or like an alien. It’s is usually one or the other on any given day.

Regardless, I really like what came out of me.

These imprints are kind of like full body tea leaf readings… with paint rather than tea leaves. Think I can use them as a divination tool? Come one, come all to Empress TJ’s School for tarot and body paint imprint readings! It could happen. This must be a thing somewhere out there. If not… I may have something here.

👽❤xoxoxo❤👽

Painting with Body Parts #10: Good Vibes Edition

painting with body parts, Uncategorized

The last couple of paintings (energy imprints…?) I did were pretty heavy duty. I knew that another one was brewing but it felt lighter, happier.

The colours had to be different. No more fire and burning. No more blood and rage. A shift occured after the last one.

The stuck energy wasn’t clearing from my lower two chakras (Root – safety and security; Sacral – emotions) this time, but from my Solar Plexus (yellow- personal power), Heart (green – Love) and Throat (blue – expression) chakras.

The silver stands for Spirit, and my connection with the Divine.

As always, applying the paint was very satisfying in a primal way. It always feels like I am opening a door to somewhere deep inside of Me.

I pressed different parts of my painted body onto my little canvas, transferring any stuck energy from those chakras to the external surface provided.

I was so silent. Normally, I may laugh or speak to myself (yes, I do this a lot), but this time there was a quiet radiance that enveloped me as I connected to the paint, the surface, to myself, to Spirit.

I did this while Hubs watched Dr. Strange in the background. I could have been surrounded by throngs of on-lookers and it would not have distracted me as I was in a bubble of creative expression and energetic release. It was as liberating as it was glorious.

I finished it off with some paint ejaculate… like the icing on the cake. Spurts of joy, love and open, unfiltered expression.

This is called “Joy Ejaculation”.

I wonder what the next one will be like…. I feel pink is on the horizon….

❤👽xoxoxo👽❤

Playtime in the Snow

Uncategorized

I had myself little fun this past weekend. Up in the country, there is still a tonne of snow. Mountains of the white shit blocks the view from most of our windows. This year was a doozy in the snow department.

So I figured I would make the best of it, and enjoy some temperature play of my own.

It started with a strip tease…

Then me reclining directly on the snow. Yes… I would have to be crazy to do this. And luckily, I am!

The photo looks delicious, yet I was feeling anything but! My ass was frozen!

See the redness? Like I said… frozen arse. But begging for a spank.

There is nothing quite as liberating as nudity (or partial nudity) en plein air. Mmmm! Can’t wait for warmer weather. I have a feeling a lot of naked outdoor adventures await.

❤👽xoxoxo👽❤

Body Part Painting #2: My Electric Butt Cheeks

Uncategorized

I am being guided towards more creative and spiritual pursuits as of late. Mainly meditation and self-questioning (this is a struggle but a worthy one) and more visual art.

My Kandinsky piece really got me excited to make more art with my body.

For this one, my ass would be the palette and applicator. Like my canvas, it was pristine and really to be sullied for the sake of art, self-expression and body positivity.

Here goes the first cheek! I used my hands because I am a savage like that.

Now the other!

Both cheeks are ready for their impression on the canvas.

I tried sitting on it. It was pretty funny to behold… and not efficient at all. So I just put myself into Goddess pose and pressed the canvas onto my ass. I wiggled around on it, and totally turned myself on while doing it too. Tee hee!

My ass looks like an assymetrical butterfly. Makes sense.

I applied paint to the cute part of my ass that curves in towards my pussy. You know which part…. And pressed the canvas into that… or rather rubbed myself onto the canvas. 😈

Then I poured paint onto my hand and flung it onto the canvas where my pussy would be… ish. I made sure to make that nice and messy. A pussy explosion, if you will.

There you have it. Sexy ass art. It will happen again.

I think I want to do a pussy impression. Not sure how to go about that but I will figure it out.

I want to use my belly to make art as well as that is my biggest point of (healing) self-consciousness and self-loathing.

Art is a soul saviour.

❤xoxoxo❤

A Nippy Day in the Woods

Uncategorized

I love to snowshoe in the winter. It is a favourite nordic passtime that allows me to exercise in a way that does not feel like exercise, and to commune with Mother Nature. I am a witchy pagan type and a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) so regular communion with Nature is an imperative for optimal functioning.

Today, I discovered that I also like stripping out of doors…

And freezing my tits off…

For the sake of art. And if you are wondering… it was worth it. Obviously. I mean… you can see my smile, can’t you?

It was also worth the scare of thinking that a fellow snowshoer or snowmobiler might discover me… and get a free show.

Not that I am charging anyone to see this one….

But lucky for me, I did not get caught. Worse luck next time… perhaps… 😈.