Quantum Touch

     Exploring the gulf between nearness and arrival.  Hairs stand on end.  Juices flow.  Almost touching, his body jumps at the mere anticipation of contact.  Erections swell.  Breaths thicken.  He can't stay quiet.  Its something about closing the space between my fingertips and his skin...  His instincts sets his skin on fire as phantom caresses crawl across his flesh.

Remarkable.

The same way light too dim for my eyes to register

can be just as blinding as staring into The Sun.

A touch so soft it's barely felt,

can be just as intense as nerve-numbing pain.

In other words, he's wants it so gentle it hurts.

Photography by Forbidden Light/ Model: Angelito

Baby Sis

We must've grown up together.

The records you're spinning reminds me of the grown folks that stayed up past my bedtime.  Cigar smoke.  High-pitched wails.  Spades.  Funky bass lines.  Laughter.  Here we are, awake past midnight, playing the way grown folks play.  Drinking what grown folks drink.  Smoking what grown folks smoke.  We must've both walked in on Ma and Daddy...this looks mighty familiar.  Her floral dress hiked up past those juicy knees.  My pants, twisted and tangled around my left ankle.  

Yeah, this feels very familiar.
 
Grabbing the curly kinks on her head, there's no escape from my lips.  Wimpering, she tries to pull her neck away from my mouth.  Pressing her hands against my chest, her voice sizzles, "I have to work tomorrow; no hickies."  I recognize: nutmeg, vanilla and cinnamon.  Smells like Grandma's sweet potato pie is cooling behind her ear.  What's that?  Frankincense?  And, Brandy on her breath?  I may have just stumbled upon her secret ingredient.
 
Damn, Baby Sis: breasts big like the women on Mama's side of the family, but, dark like our cousins from down south.  Watching you down there makes so much sense.  Lip smacking.  Neck swiveling.  Impeccable rhythm.  I like the way those big earrings move like pendulums between my thighs.  Swinging in unison.  Her voice hums, vibrating, around my dick the same way Aunties hum hymnals while making breakfast.  Soulful.  Soothing.  Oh, shit.
 
Her hips spiraling up and down on my lap.  I recognize: hula hoops, dutty wine and walks to the corner store.  The Brandy on her whisper, "Oh, Daddy," fucks me up.  The weed smoke on her moan...  The peaches on her kiss...  Takes me back to those Friday nights.
 
No wonder we had to go to bed so early as kids.

Ap(art): Oxford Brown

     The first stroke from his roller was followed by concern, "I don't know about this, bro.  Looks like shit...literally."  I had the idea of painting some walls in my bedroom a dark shade of brown.  I wanted a room that felt womb-like.  I wanted my future victims to feel swallowed alive.  Watching my friend spread a thin layer of brown paint across the eggshell wall, I also grew concerned that it wouldn't turn out like I've visioned in my head.

     It took us two days to get the high-gloss Oxford brown up, and I love it.  The way it interacts with light... The way it effects my mood... Nodding his head, impressed, "Yeah, man... This is kind of sexy. I like it."  I couldn't wait to see naked flesh against these walls.  Too bad the paint was still wet.  And,Tim and I are platonic.

'Oxford Brown' by Forbidden Light

Morphophilia: Koné Sindou

     Finally, legs that goes on forever...  Hips that sit upon lofty heights...  The short distance between his rib cage and pelvis.  Spider-like limbs inspiring minds to dangle from a web of fleshly thoughts.  "What is he?"  "Why the over-sized jeans?"  "Why the secret?"  Finally, a body like mine.

     Finally, a black man disclosed.  Lengthy blackness that has nothing to do with his dick...  Long, vein-riddled forearms...  Thirteen inches of rock hard quadriceps.  No wonder the waist of his pants fasten around his thighs.  No wonder his crotch bulges from the center of his shirt.  Is anything made for him?  Is anything made for me?  No wonder I prefer nudity.

     It's good to see him exposed.  It's a chance to celebrate my reflection in his anatomy... An opportunity to see my body at its prime... A moment to witness the beauty in those skinny calves.

Finally.

KONÉ SINDOU by CLIFF WATTS