Tag: finger fucking

Order Order

This post brings a little order to my normally anarchic updating routine in that the models are sequential in my filing system although the photos were shot on different cameras at different times. May be I should keep things simple and stick to this method in future.
The first model seems to be everyones favourite, except mine. I found her a bit one dimensional, which admittedly is difficult for one so curvy, and she didn’t appear to be particularly interested in being photographed. I thought model number two was seriously cute and I’m surprised there isn’t more content of her on the web. I have a real soft spot for the third girl. She may have been an amateur but she went above and beyond the call of duty to ensure I got some super snaps and movies.

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Behold, The Sea Itself

Ralph Vaughan Williams. A Sea Symphony. 1909.

A few hours at the seaside, and a day away from the computer, to de-stress. Staring out to sea tends to have a calming effect on me, I should do it more often, shame I’m a centre of the country based house cat. Cleethorpes was the chosen destination because North Lincolnshire is a part of the country I’ve never visited before so another railway route crossed off my trainspotters bucket list. The town didn’t disappoint being a typical long passed it’s glory days English seaside resort. The 2 largest businesses on the high street appeared to be a mobility scooter centre and a Wetherspoon’s pub. That tells you a lot I think. Still the clean beautiful sandy beach makes up for the rundown nature of the town centre. It’s been almost 50 years since I last gazed out on the North Sea so unless I decide to take the adventurous train journey to Skeggy it could be my east coast swansong.

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An End Has A Start

Editors. 2007.

So how did I start snapping pretty young ladies? The same way most amateur photographers of my age started, at the local camera club. Up until then I had little interest in people photography, I shot landscapes and abstracts (natural patterns). My first club portrait evening was exciting stuff. Rolls of background paper, stands, lights, umbrellas, reflectors, flash meters, cables strewn everywhere, and last but definitely not least an attractive young lady in a flimsy blouse. I was hooked and my first steps on the road to depravity had been taken.

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