Cocky photos

I have recently acquired a new camera. It is a relatively decent camera, though I have much to learn about how to take and develop a decent photograph. I am exceedingly excited about going to some familiar places and looking at familiar objects, and seeing the different ways I can capture a scene, event or still motion shot with this new and more advanced piece of technology.
I am also, of course, fascinated and extremely motivated to use my camera for very sensual purposes, taking photographs of both myself, other people and occasions when I have the pleasure of having sex with the consent of someone who is prepared to reveal all for the camera. I am incredibly fortunate in that I have someone who is prepared to do this, and also has a distinct interest in the art of erotic photography.

Awakenings are a wondrous thing. Finding pleasure in something new gives zest to life, allows the senses to revel in the delights of the world, gives nourishment to feelings. Sexual awakenings are phenomenal. Suddenly, and I do mean suddenly, realising that you have an enjoyment of your own body, of your own sexuality can be enormously empowering. To be able to share that awakening with other people, and to express both in words and actions that essence of sensual realisation and rebirth is so incredibly liberating, and I am eternally grateful that I have had the oportunity to experience this. So grateful, in fact, that I feel a need to reiterate it in words on this blog. And this really brings us onto the art of erotic photography.

I have always had an interest in photography. I have always loved the fact that you can capture such a range of things with one little tap of your finger. I love the way that you can hold onto a second of life that was special and important by one click of a button. I love revisiting places and surely I have enough images of beaches and rivers that I am so familiar with. Yet I could continually take photographs of the same place. You may look at them and see a huge similarity in the photos - similar people, similar clothes, same ripples of water, same sunlight. Yet for me, as Rodney says "Every Picture Tells a Story". Each shot of a beach or a river represents a different time, different epoch of my life. Same scene, different me. It tells the story of the day the photo was taken. It captures the thoughts, the feelings, the laughter, the joy, the sensation of summer sun or winter woes- all different, every time I take it. It tells about my early morning walks, about the families that gather, about the frantic activities and the relaxing siestas. And yet, you may just see a sandy beach, a calm sea, a rushing stream, and a group of bowering trees.
And the very same can be said about taking more intimate photographs. I think there is a huge beauty in male and female form. I sometimes hear people saying that the male body isn't that spectacular with its straight form and unusual little dangly appendage. Well, believe me, that dangly little appendage has huge significance for me. I am extremely turned on by cocks. I love to see them in many shapes and sizes, covered with foreskins or not. I love cocks. I love the total fucking sexuality of a stiff, excited cock. I love the memory of what a cock does for me. I love the solidness of its form. I love the way it stands erect and eager for pussy.

I fucking love big, hard cocks.

But I am particularly fond of specific cocks. And I adore photographs of a special cock, belonging to someone who is important to me. I look at the photograph and wonder what it may feel like to take in my hands right now. I look and remember what it tasted like when it was juicing in my mouth. I look and imagine what it may feel like in my sensitive little pussy if only it was accessible right now. I love to think about cocks and see them in both aroused and flaccid state. (I have a strange fascination in walking through the men's department at M&S imagining the cock that I want to hold inside a range of knickers - but that is for another time). You see, I cannot get enough photos of that cock. I may have tens or hundreds of shots of that cock but they are all so incredibly different, shaped by the time, the event and the feelings that were occurring when the photo was taken.

I remember the first photo that I ever received of that cock. It was taken in the bath, held carefully in the hands of my lover. It was erect and moist. It was pointing towards the centre of the photograph cajoling me into moving forward, pretending that I could take it in my mouth. I remember when it was sent to me, for I genuinely wasn't expecting it. All I was expecting was to see a clothed cock; pants bulging in the form of an erect penis. And I can remember an instant wave of physical passion totally overtake my body, directly from my sexual organs, at the sheer pleasure and excitement of seeing this cock, this photograph, taken for me with the absolute knowledge that it would send me reaching towards my pussy, clutching it hard to contain that instance of orgasmic reaction.

And that is the key point. He took that photograph FOR me, knowing the type of reaction that would incur. He took that photograph because he knew it would set my juices flowing. He could imagine the pleasure on my face as I studied the cock, and zoomed in as far as possible to see every familiar and sexy section of it.

I can look at plenty of horny cocks. I can be remotely turned on by an image of an unknown man clutching his manhood for me to see. It does excite me. It does send a little trickle of sensation between my legs but it is incomparable to the photograph that is taken for me. And I have many photos taken for me. The fact that they were taken for me send me into ecstatic cums. I love to have them near me, as I fuck myself. I love to reach over and look at them, unable to touch them as I have my hands deeply entrenched in my lubricated puss. I love the fact that, when the opportunity arises, I can take that cock back into the warmth of my needy cunt. I love having those photos sent to me when I least expect them. That is such a massive turn on. I like the naughtiness of the moment of taking the photograph and providing it.

So more as and when will be gratefully appreciated.

I have to go now. I was going to talk in much greater detail about photography for I want to share with you the excitement of taking photos of myself, for me and for others. I want to explain what happened to me when I came home from work today, how I went directly to my bedroom and took off all my clothes, how I went naked to the window to let in some fresh air, not remotely bothered if anyone was in neighbouring gardens to peek a view. And I want to tell you all about the photos that I took, the close-ups on the 'flower' setting - la petite vagin! And I want to explain how I took a series of photos of my boobs hidden under a silky red bra, revealed one by one and then another close up of my excited nipple, opening at the point in anticipation of a hungry mouth to grab it and suck it into a state of energised glory.