Me: “What shall I call your bottom?”
@19syllables: “Dark passage!”
This was the final location on mine and @19syllables’s day trip to Margate at the end of June. The Shell Grotto is a great mystery. A deep and narrow underground passage winding 70 feet down to chamber and decorated with 4.6 million shells. A tiny space where it would seem foolhardy to get naked, for sure. But the echoes of visitors descending the stairs to the passageway are heard long before you see them so why not? I’ve been saving this one for today to mark the birthday girl’s latest orbit of the sun.
“The tool of every self-portrait is the mirror. You see yourself in it. Turn it the other way, and you see the world.” Agnes Varda
Today has been earmarked for one of mine and Exhibit A’s weekend photo adventures for a good two or three months – we tend to plan them around Livvy’s weekend shifts so we know quite a way in advance when they’ll be.
Our last weekend outing was to Luxembourg so today had quite a tough act to follow! Various destinations were put in the mix, from long walks to wild swimming spots in rivers and outdoor ponds. In the end a combination of factors meant we didn’t settle on a location until after midday today. First we thought it would be too hot, then it was going to storm…in the end we were both enjoying chilling out in our own spaces so much this morning that we didn’t fancy going too far afield.
We settled on Tooting Lido. Neither of us had been there before so had no idea what a perfect location the changing rooms – reminiscent of 1950s beach huts – would be. Would we be daring enough to snap a nude shot in a busy London lido on a July Saturday? Of course! Would Exhibit A be adamant that I needed to be in the pool shooting up, not on the other side? Yes! Would I make us keep retaking the shot until that bloody red door stayed closed? What can I say? I’m picky! As Exhibit A said afterwards – we make a good photo team!
A month or so back the wonderful Hannah Lockhardt wrote this great post in praise of dick pics. I’m totally with her. I love dick pics. I love being the photographer. Photographing partners and casual lovers is a privilege. I love that they trust me to photograph them, I love the record I have of our times together and I love being able to capture and articulate the male body. I think the male body is a beautiful thing and for me the dick is a fundamental part of that.
But I don’t just love being the photographer; I love receiving dick pics too. I realise that many people don’t: they find them intimidating and/or they’ve arrived uninvited. I’m lucky in that I’ve never received an unsolicited photo. My DMs are closed and I run a pretty tight ship when it comes to giving out my number to people I chat with on dating apps. I’ve only ever received images of cocks I’m either already acquainted with or have a keen interest in getting to know.
For me, the exchange of photos before meeting is hot as fuck. It’s not something I do often, but if the rapport is there and I know I plan on getting naked with someone then a steady stream of photos is the most tantalising appetiser. I’m pretty certain that I wouldn’t have had such a brilliant and hot six hours with this man last summer if it hadn’t been for weeks of messaging and photos that got us super excited to meet in the flesh. And once we’ve met? Well keep them coming! Photos maintain intimacy when distance, primary partnerships, work schedules and family life dictate actual meetings. I’ve been known to whine when the supply of cock shots has tailed off!
Then there’s days like yesterday where I was so hungover that I didn’t get dressed all day. The entire day was spent naked on my sofa satisfying my hangover horn. On days like that I’m a blatant filthy flirt and unashamedly encouraging people to get me off with their photos. The morning brought cock from North London, dripping with pre-cum. In the afternoon I delighted in photos received from across the Atlantic, snapped beneath his desk with colleagues in the next room.
One of the things I love about being sent photos is that the ones a man takes for me are usually so different to the ones I’d take of him. I tend towards ‘arty farty’ shots, ones that are staged or that tell a story. The ones sent in personal chats are often cruder, hotter, less thought through. They demand a physical response rather than an artistic appreciation. But then sometimes one arrives in your phone that really is a work of art and a celebration of cock and then I just go ‘wow’!
Photographer is anonymous but the image is posted with his consent.
I’m spending the weekend in the Peak District celebrating a friend’s 40th. This morning we went rafting on the River Derwent, ate roast beef sandwiches in the pub next door to our cottage for lunch, then took an afternoon nap. We’re now enjoying a cold bottle of prosecco at Baslow Edge overlooking the rolling fields and Chatsworth House. We rather like the view!
When I told Exhibit A that @19syllables and I were off on a photo adventure to Botany Bay he quipped: “Well I hope the post is going to be called Bottomly Bay.” Last week’s post was all about the legs but I made sure we got one that could carry his title!
Carved by time and tide,
Every pebble a sculpture,