I have a body, yes.

It longs for all variety of sensations.

Leather draped along my skin resting momentarily over parched plumb skin raised from tenacious titillations. The feel of your hand as it glides across my neck and then the softness of your kiss where it has gently been replaced. The cream of pink lipstick glazed across my lips accentuating a smile that arches forth and into your eyes. Tempting to switch.

It craves the vibration of your laughter as it runs through me bubbling just under my skin. It craves the moistness steaming from my pours as I shudder once and then again by the palm of your hand so excellently executed. It craves the solitude of your silences as your hands get to know the messages emblazed on my skin that until now have been kept secret as I grant permission for you to continue your curious progression.

I have a body, yes.

It needs.

Yes it’s better to say my body needs.

Yet, I have a soul as well.

Its beauty and strength are not always easy to see behind this golden skin and deeply defined femme sophistication yet it needs to be seen outside of the body always.

It longs for eyes that penetrate one another’s passing through facades and to a place where wordlessness reins supreme. It longs for deviations of behavior where innocence screams forward and genuine laughter is induced as we fall curling into one another on the living room floor. It longs to see in your eyes that this femme is something special in your life.

It craves the intensity of each and every moment pulling from it all of its greatness, joy, and sorrow. It craves the exhilaration of seeing your smile and the nod to the effort you’ve made to show me you have had me on your mind. More than anything, it craves to know that it belongs.

My soul, needs to know it is not alone.

Who am I writing this for? I’m not sure although a few come to mind. I know that who ever she is she exists somewhere out there in the world and she hears my calls. She may even live just across the hall or she may be sitting right in front of me everyday. Yet, she will understand my wants. My needs. My desires. She will understand I need her to give back to my body, to my spirit, and to my mind as I have given unto hers in equal matter. She will understand this because through my words I will make sure that it is so.

There have been many suitors that have come playing a game that sent me in a spell of confusion not knowing what their true interest was with me. It’s common that many come to just use me. There have been others yet, that it seemed one party wanted more while the other wanted less. I have played both ends of this tortuous game. And then there are some I want to see me for more than just my body because there is a wonderful soul inside. I see their spirit so clearly and wish that they could see mine.

Yes, I have a body. It has wants and needs.

But I have a soul as well.

Let it know it’s not alone….

*Photo by Connalee

The moment I entered the space all eyes were on me. Dressed in a playful pink coat, golden heels and a skirt that could not be seen beyond the already short enough jacket, my energy was irresistible. Instantly I felt the pressure, the command, to notice the people around me. How much they wanted my attention yet there was only one woman I was interested in and she stood directly across from me owning her space with the crowd that grew confused and wondered why they couldn’t figure ‘her’ out. I looked upon her as she stood smiling as our eyes met. She was dressed as promised in a suit of dark colors and a freshly picked purple tie which was accompanied by the strapped cock to her leg that was unavoidable to the eye and a binded chest. Needless to say, she looked amazingly hot and our energy was magnetic as I felt pulled to her as i stopped caring about the many eyes that laid upon us. I strolled right over to her with a bounce in my hips, lightly wrapping my arms around her, and then as we’ve dreamed many a time, leaned in for a kiss. Soft and quick. It was nothing like I imagined but just as well it was more than what I could have asked for. We moved to the car and quickly found ourselves making out as the windows steamed against the brutal cold outside and our hands danced along one another’s legs. We eventual made it back to her place where I found myself stripped naked as my body danced to the rhythm of her cock inside of me. Later I strolled around in my garter belt and thigh highs donned with a short orange tank that landed perfectly to accentuate my femininity. Still in heels.

The process of the weekend continued much the same and the emphasis was on sex and allowing our bodies to have it whenever we pleased whether we were out driving around, in a coffee house, waiting for my train’s departure or various spots around the house. We were hungry and eager for one another as our passion for bodily expressing ourselves flushed out of our veins and into floggers, red hands, her cock, our teeth, and the many starch marks and bruises we left behind. We dismissed any demand for modesty as the fire grew in our eyes changing from boi to girrl and our bodies rambled through who was top and bottom and at any given moment switching roles as our days together flew by swiftly.

I’ll be back with her in February and I look forward to our many days together in lust and the new things we can discover among the new tools we will both have to turn each other on.

Oh, did I forget to tell you she’s my first boi?

Well she is.

And hopefully not my last.

*wicked wicked smile*

*Image by ~THISxTRAGICxGIRL

Flamingo LGBT Photography

Let’s talk queer art………

There are some really amazing artists out there taking pictures of our community and representing us to many who just may not see us in the way we see ourselves. I for one find my interest lays in gender fluidity and that expression through art and out daily lives. There is nothing hotter to me than being with, seeing or hearing women who dance along the border of gender identity and it’s always a blessing when that art is taken in to a more public arena where others outside of our ghettos have an opportunity to see just how beautiful we are.

Here’s a few artist that interest me.

First there is Kael T Block. Here’s a few shots.

Rooted in his own experience as a transboy or ‘FtM’ (Female to Male), the series is a personal exploration of masculinity, gender binaries and gender fluidity. The photos are often close-up, in-your-face portraits, that directly confront the viewer.

Check out his website here.

Then there is Kelli Connell. Here’s a few shots.

Kelli Connell’s exhibition “Double Life” explored the intricacies of sexual and gender roles through a strikingly cinematic collection of still images. By tapping into a universal human experience and upending the role that social identity often plays in artistic production, Connell gives her images a narrative warmth and ease that transcend an activist or queer-feminist agenda.

Check out her website here.

There’s one more site that was recommended to me called Genderfork. They’ve got some great pictures from various site on the internet of different photographers who examine and express gender in a very controversial way in some instances.

Here’s a quote from their site:

Genderfork.com is a blog that explores androgyny and gender variance — that playful intersection between “male” and “female” that seems to confuse and intrigue us.

Here’s a few shots.

Hope you enjoyed your journey in queer art! If you’ve got some links to queer photographers or queer photos, please do leave a link because I’d love to get to know other artists. If you’ve got some great queer shots of yourself, friends and loved ones leave post those here as well.

I’d love to see you all.

I saw her immediately upon my entrance into the dimly lit space where us dykes could dance, flirt, and pretend the world did not exist. I could see that – thing– that has no words because is something you can only see with your eyes. Why use words anyway when it’s an energy that lays within the depth of her eyes. An energy that let’s me know that this woman with long brown hair that drapes over her shoulders and curvaceous indentions placed just right within her cheeks is not safe. This woman is trouble. She’s dangerous. She’s not nice. She’s not fare. She’s intense.

She’s a bad girl.

She’s a very bad girl.

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I feel your breath in my ear and my body moves instantly to discover you. Your heat moist upon my aching skin and your energy radiating yet in my ear. Allowing my body to slide swiftly from this resolute chair, I move forward down darkened passage ways swimming on your scent alone. That warm mingling of vanilla and sweet cherries electrifies my skin causing friction—a movement—- from deep within up to my heart and back again. I see a flash of your auburn hair as you pass, smiling to yourself around a lone corner towards a dead end. I move quicker knowing that I finally have you. Yet, as my shoulder brushes that same corner I find a side table and chair idly standing still there. No sign of your smile; your scent no longer filling the air.

My body sags with a depressive tone. Do you know how long I’ve awaited you? How I’ve watch many a moon pass by under my lonely view? I drearily draw my body back to my desk and to the task at hand; the masterpiece that has been slipping from me night after night. How do you articulate into form that which one has only glimpsed but not truly seen? How do you contain a sparked passion within only a few lines? This was my complication yet I grasp my pen to begin again. Stroke by stroke shape takes from in front of my eyes. A slight curved line here and a gentle but sharp one there.

And then I feel you again but I dare not raise my eyes in fear that you’d only disappear.

As my pen moves I feel you stronger with a presence more real than I’ve felt before. I find your face talking shape with depth I fear I’ve only imagined and as the last stoke arches across giving way to my name, it is only then that I allow myself to gaze into your eyes. A deep creamy brown reflects back as the silkiness of your hair frames the beauty of your smile. Instantly I am hypnotized. I see you move and I feel myself follow with not one thought in my head but, “Yes.”. Does it bother me that you’ve not said a word or that fact that in some way I realize you may not really real?

I follow on ahead past brittled plants and old chapped plastered walls. Down misty stairways and dusty halls. At last coming to a red door in this monotone setting and gently open it to find an explosion of color surrounding me. Silky red curtains and plush golden sittings take up my view as well as a mirror longer than four of my own bodies encompassing an ornate and deeply emphasized section of the wall. As for the other wall, a bed appears to have an occupant to my great surprise. I watch as you move closer urging me onward till my knees are right at the edge. It is then everything comes around. I watch in amazement as you walk around to the other side and slowly lower yourself back into your body. I see your skin flush and fill with your color and with your own energy.

My feet planted to the floor yet and somewhere my body understands. My mind accepting and my heart still yearning. In an instant I find myself standing solidly staring back into my own eyes from in front of this overwhelming mirror. Your form behind me. Before I can begin to comprehend the sudden lapse in time and space, I feel your hand on my side, cooing me and creating calm. I look back at your reflection in the mirror and am stunned by your beauty that glows brightly from within. A warm sigh escapes my lips as your body moves against mine. I feel your pulse strong against my back side as tears begin to brim over from my eyes. You pull me closer still. I feel your lips at the back of my neck and my eyes concede to closing. When I open them I find myself on my back sinking into the bed but it is you that I do not see.

Yet just as quickly as my body moves to rise, it is your voice I hear in my ear. Even through words aren’t uttered the vibration alone thrills me sending my body into gentle convulsions. I feel your hands urge my eyes closed and as I do so I instantly feel you upon me. With my hands glued to my side, I feel you everywhere as my body hardens and swells for your touch. At first upon my breasts taking both within your grasp and enveloping them within your lips. Then dripping your touch down my body biting my sides till you have me convulsing at the slighted blow on that skin. Spreading me as you allow yourself to fill me; your tongue sliding up and down my clit. Taking it within your teeth as your tongue flicks at the tip. I am all sensation now swimming in your immaculate touch; my wetness spilling out from within. Then I feel you move sooner than I can plead, “more” and you are everywhere all at once. I feel you at the base of my foot taking hold and riding up my legs. I feel the pressure of you striking every hair that is standing on end. I feel you as if you were melting right into me. Your smoothness licking every bit of my skin and my moans are escapable freeing themselves at once as my body shudders bellow you.

I hear you from with inside of me urging me, pleading me, needing me to let go; to release and scream out in passion. You play pictures on the inside of my eyelids for me to see enhancing my already overloading senses. I watch as you spread yourself wide for me with your hand at your clit waiting for me to delve in to your wetness. You laid flat on your stomach with your ass lightly reaching for the air wanting to feel me against your backside. You screaming out as my fingers fill you, fisting you as an orgasm run waves over your shuddering body. This last image finishes me and I hold on to it as my own orgasm breaks forth with sounds of ecstasy. I lie panting as I open my eyes and see not a form but energy moving all around me. I watch as it moves to my right and back where it calls home. With a gasp your eyes open to mine and a smile lights up your face. I reach over this time initiating a new touch and pull you toward me wrapping you in my arms. All the questions I have instantly fly from my mind as your body turns and curves into mine. I breathe in your scent as my eyes close on the encroaching dawn.

When I awaken I find myself at a desk laying face down on my incomplete scribbles called work. For a moment I wonder if it was a mad trick played on my mind or if she might have been real. It’s then that I see, on the edge of my paper, a name in unfamiliar writing bellow my own.

Sara Walkins

It’s then that I hear the wind moving down the hallways and a curtain playfully flapping in the breeze against the tired brick walls. The warm scent of vanilla and sweet cherries fills the room and I rise abandoning my ‘masterpiece’ and on to live it instead.

Tieara

Tieara is a lesbian writer out of Chicago, IL. Her writing is usually poetic, and written in a manner which is often meant to be spoken out loud. Always queer, she’s permanently bent and loves expressing it in her writings. She’s turning the heat up…..Let this bush burn on!

She spun the torso of the mannequin around and around making sure there were no errors in the piece she had recently created. Recently, as in the day before that is. She had never felt such passion rip through her, out onto the fabric, and was amazed by the slight of time it involved to process the vivid images she saw in her head into tangible reality. With her head cocked to the side, she stood calmly viewing her creations when she saw Allison walking within. Her heart beat profusely in her chest and immediately she felt that familiar sensation in her center as she paused when Allison approached her with a smile that caused her to melt….

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