Confessions of an Erotic NaturebyStellaandhank©
A few years ago, Stella experienced a sexual re-awakening that changed the course of her life. As if they could smell her invisible pheromones, men looked at her face, her breasts, her hips with abandon. Or did they? Their real or perceived attention fueled her new sense of erotic self. She wanted to lose herself. And she did -- first in Anais Nin and Henry Miller. And then in her own photography and writing.
Stella waited for the right man (her own Henry Miller) to join her on her journey of "delicate perversions." She started to wonder if he existed or if she was living (once again) in the old books of dead writers.
This is about what happened when Stella finally found him. A man who had also been looking for someone with whom to get lost. She had no choice but to call him Hank. He had no choice but to see her as his "French Whore."
Follow Stella and Hank's journey of sexual pleasure and exploration as it unfolds through their daily correspondence and photography.
Last week at dinner, did you notice that we had barely sat down with John and Marianne when she announced that she thought I had an "exceptionally beautiful face and a lovely full mouth?" Were you equally surprised when she asked me about my sexual orientation? I didn't expect that she would make her intentions so obvious, especially after knowing us for less than 10 minutes, did you?
Marianne is not only beautiful but has to be the most sexually overt woman I have ever met. The way she flirted with you in front of John all the while not letting anyone forget that she hungered for me too. You put it perfectly when you looked her square in the eyes and said she was a modern day sexual Tyrannosarus Rex!
I could tell her desire for me excited you. And that excited me. Since then, thoughts of letting her do some of the things that you do to me have flooded my brain.
I want to surrender to all forms of sexual desire. I want to let her seduce me. I want to give myself to her like I give myself to you.
I want to stand in front of Marianne in black (lace) and white (skin) and the high heel shoes she openly admired as we left the restaurant. (Do you think the people at the next table could tell what was going on?)
I want to let her touch me and taste me as you and John watch our Sappho-inspired little show.
And while Marianne feasts on me, I want to turn my head to face you and see your eyes speak the words "You are so bad" and "I have never desired you more."
P.S. Should I write her?
Stella, my sweet French whore, it is you who pulls the strings of my desire. Your sensual erotic nature is the fuel for my burning desire.
To make love to you is to enter a world of ecstasy and sweet carnal pleasure. Your fruit is always ripe for me but my ravenous appetite is never fully quenched.
You know me and my desire to continually explore the borders of our sweet delicious perversions. To watch you with Marianne will only make our fire rage even more.
Write her, Stella. She won't be able to resist you.
I woke up this morning with a wonderfully hard cock. All I could think about was your soft voluptuous body lying next to me. I fantasized about stroking your soft full ass with my hands while slowly spreading your legs to lightly caress your wet wanting pussy. You moan lightly awaking to the touch of my wet fingers. I pull you tighter cupping your full tits in my hands. My cock is big and hard as it seeks your sweet delicious cunt. I slowly push allowing you to fully take me in.
Delicious thoughts as I masturbated all over the sheets... mmmm Stella .. you don't know how the thought of you turns me on.
Tell me, did you write Marianne?
I wrote to Marianne and confessed that although I was initially threatened by the sexual energy she not so subtly directed towards you, it wasn't long before I felt a curiosity and desire building in me - after all I too had been the recipient of her sexual attention and energy that night.
I was even so bold as to tell her that I fantasized about her seducing me (the self-sacrificing virgin!) in front of our eager-to-watch men. A Sappho-inspired "performance art" if you will, where both performers and audience are equally aroused and entertained. Do you think she will be game?
P.S. I can't wait to fall asleep next to you just so that you can wake me up like you do during the night (sometimes twice!) and again in the morning with your beautiful, hard cock