A.H. Scott: Night, Angel

Portrait of young woman with black long hair wearing sheer nightgown
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022

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Night, Angel

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Call me Serenity

With charm to disarm, here I am for you

None of what we long for comes out of the air so thin

Casting a spell

You know me so well

I move through the night ever so sprite

Now, here I am with you

Something it was, something it is

Back when our eyes met for the first time, there was a delicious reason and parallel rhyme

Yeah, it’s the way she moves

Slick glide of mercury across the floor she is

Knock at her pad came after dark

Under his arm was a white box with a bow

Oh, I’m a curious woman who wants to know

What could it be that he brought for me?

A few suppers here and there is beyond a simple blind date that is ever so rare

Getting to know one another has amplified my horizons in such varied ways

Oh, a tender gentleman puts me in a haze

But, I’m not silly to think that it’s only my visual that puts a guy like him on the brink

I’ve got that magic inside of me that illuminates in special ways

Soft melody plays

Not a cover-up is this gift, as my body slowly shifts within it

Delicate lace bow I release in a sensual tease with thumb and index finger is a breeze

His hands cradle gossamer the color of night upon my flesh, as I offer a humble sigh

My bedroom is my sanctuary and we are here together

Fragrant aroma of cherry blossom fills the air

As you hold me in those strong arms that are so dear, I nibble and whisper gently in your ear

You know me

Yes, I know her

She is tranquility that I never thought I would find

I am the man who she treats ever so kind

Tender words from those lips and actions that are mutual fascination is the magic we share

Gossamer vanishes to the floor

I want her more and more

Hardening as I do, it is when I’m with her that there is that lustful follow through

Soft hands of mine touch along his expanded crotch

Oh God, I want him inside of me so much

I guess I am a woman of a blissful spell, cuz’ I can get such a sexy man to swell

Not tooting my own horn, but there’s going to be more than one grind between us from after midnight to the coming dawn

Hands make their moves with rapid speed

This night is going well, indeed

Blush upon my lips is like a siren song

I picked up on her signs, as on the bed we climbed

She below me and my flesh entering slowly at first

Deeper and deeper we are making our connection with such untamed thirst

Sensuality’s spring is about to burst

Back and forth, I take that ride upon him

Feelin’ good, feelin’ groovy

Damn, this man is really knowin’ me now

Her body flourishes with every point of contact we make, as I am about to make a fast break

We hold onto each other, as what comes about comes

Both of us are heady in our passion as the room seems to spin around our bodies in a mystical way

As if we are imbued with the essence of falling leaves, we listlessly lay upon the bed

Strands of my raven hair are slightly entangled through my fingers as I touch his chest and rest my head against it

I hear his heart beating like a snare drum

Wow, what a torrid duo we’ve become

Silently I wonder if he thinks I was just a bit too wild

Midnight holds magic in ways neither needed to voice

Being with her was a delightfully humbling choice

I lifted my head from off his chest, kissed him and was lost in a sweet caress

As I look at your softness, your feathers are invisible to most who gaze at the woman before my eyes

Yet, I see them as I look at you….

She tenderly smiles, “I know this is true”

He whispered, “Night, angel….”

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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and senior contributor to Tony Ward’s blog.  For additional articles by A.H. Scott, click here: https://tonywarderotica.com/a-h-scott-wavelength/

A.H. Scott: Nightcap

Portrait of tony ward muse Alice Chaillou paris
  Photo: Alice. Paris. Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022

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Nightcap

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Italian has always been my favorite
And, you are the man who knows my appetite
Red dress, red lipstick and red shoes
Sexy redhead that never has the blues
Smile for you as I walk into the restaurant
Dress jacket of black, white shirt and jeans give you a look of casual coolness
You stand up and greet me with a peck on the cheek
After a lovely meal and red wine, we take the dance floor
Your spontaneous heart is what I adore
Slow dancing in each other’s arms, as you dip me with such flair
We make it back to your place for a nightcap of sweet delights
Dipping a strawberry into chocolate is a nice start
Dip that juicy fruit into my mouth and watch me melt
Red dress I take off in a way of burlesque
Sash of my dress had made its’ way into your jeans’ pocket
Never a tacky teaser is the way I am
My body may be nothing dazzling to brag about
Yet, I’m being bold enough to do a little bump n’ grind to grab your attention
So, here I am in red satin bra and panty to match
Hips caressed by those hands of yours from behind
I sigh at the words you say so clear and strong
“You are really turning me on”, whispered from you
“I’m glad I can”, I place my hands atop yours
Our bodies move in syncopation as I can feel your burgeoning salute
I step away from your grasp and turn around to face you
My playful side comes out when I’m with you, as my polished fingernails touch lightly below your waist
Without missing a beat, you calmly speak, “I’m going to make to you without haste”
That naughty look in your eyes let me know I was in for a surprise
Red sash taken out of the back of your jeans’ pocket made its’ debut for decadence
I was up for the games we play and turned around in a snap
Sash converted into blindfold was placed onto me by you
You kissed me on the left cheek and I couldn’t resist a reply, “My senses are ready for the ride”.
Taking me by the hand, you lead me upstairs
My mind’s racing about the possibilities that you’ve got planned for me
You lead me to your bedroom and take off my intimates
In your bed, I’m naked without vision but acclimated of seductions sight
Those kisses of yours upon my lips are driving me wild
And, those hands of yours know how to move like mercury
Suddenly, no longer am I touched, as that sound of a jeans’ zipper fills the air
My senses are rising, as you climb atop of me on that bed
I want to take off the blindfold and look into those blazing eyes of yours when you are inside of me
Damn, slowly and deep you are pressing, as I breathe deeply
Yes…yes…like heaven in your arms
Always so nice to cuddle in the afterglow when we are through
Italian…..strawberry….chocolate…YOU
Nightcap satisfied
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About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and senior contributor to Tony Ward’s blog. To access additional articles by Ms. Scott, click here: https://tonywarderotica.com/a-h-scott-wavelength/

Bob Shell: Censorship Rears its Ugly Head in Virginia

Topless beauty in hotel room photographed by Tony Ward
Isabella. Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Text by Bob Shell, Copyright 2022

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Censorship Rears its Ugly Head in Virginia

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Tonight, June 14, 2022, I got a publication disapproval notice for the June issue of ‘Rolling Stone.’ A very good friend recently gave me a subscription and this was my first issue on that subscription.

It was disapproved for “Material that contains nudity. The showing (human or cartoon) of the male or female genitals, pubic area, female breast with less than a fully opaque covering of the areola, or male or female buttocks with less than a full opaque covering of the anus.”

I photographed nudes starting in the 1960s for more than forty years. I’ve seen countless female breasts. Seeing one now is somehow going to cause me harm? And note that it’s only seeing female breasts that will hopelessly corrupt me! I can see topless photos of Vladimir Putin day in and day out. Men have nipples and areolae, too!
I remember seeing an article years ago featuring a number of closeup photos of nipples, challenging the reader to identify which were male and which were female. It was impossible to tell. As I recall, one or two weren’t even human.
Sexual discrimination is illegal, so how does the Virginia Department of Corrections (VDOC) get away with having such a blatantly sexist policy? Are we living in some restrictive theocracy. Will the VDOC next impose Sharia Law?

The magazine was also disapproved for “Material that depicts, describes, or promotes gang bylaws, initiations, organizational structure, codes or other gang-related activity or association.”

I’m a 75 year old white man. I’m going to join a gang??? Wonder if there’s one called ‘Hell’s Geezers?’ Is there a southwest Virginia chapter?

The man who signed the disapproval is the ‘OM’ the same man who recently disapproved ‘The Week’, my weekly news magazine, for showing gang symbols. Fairly new on that job, I think. Maybe he should consider relocating to Iran. There are probably many jobs open there for censors.

‘Rolling Stone’ contains important political articles and stories about culture. It is often quoted in other media. It is a highly influential journal that I’ve been reading since the 1960s and often features cutting edge photography.

I plan to contact Rolling Stone’s legal people. Maybe they would like to slap the VDOC down for ignoring the US Constitution. The US Supreme Court has held that freedom of the press contains the right to read. Censorship is unconstitutional! It must be stopped wherever it rears its slimy, reeking head!

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About The Author: Bob Shell is a professional photographer, author and former editor in chief of Shutterbug Magazine. He is currently serving a 35 year sentence for involuntary manslaughter for the death of Marion Franklin, one of his former models.  He is serving the 13th year of his sentence at Pocahontas State Correctional Facility, Virginia. To read Bob Shell’s, first essay on civil war, click here: https://tonywarderotica.com/bob-shell-my-photographic-philosophy/

Megan McGory: Exploration

 

Text by Megan McGory, Copyright 2022

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Exploration

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Sex…an important topic from my past!

 What does that even encompass in my early years of life?

 When I was exploring and learning, it was difficult to obtain information. As an only child with two Christian parents, things were challenging. My sources were library books, neighbors, and friends. I was always looking to learn. Until the age of 16 it was quite a sheltered existence. I knew the basics, some of what I liked and didn’t and had more questions about sex than anyone around me could answer.

 Once I was able to drive, my world opened up. There were trips to Planned Parenthood once every few months. Things out of reach like Spencers, certain magazines, and because of VHS tapes, occasionally porn were all obtainable. I would change into different clothes at school, could go out and was always in a corner of the high school making out with my boyfriend or in a basement with him which allowed exploration of each other. He was more experienced. He knew how to please me and I couldn’t get enough.

 My first vibe (complete with batteries) was bought for me by a group of guys that I hung with in my neighborhood. They gave it to me in the cafeteria in the middle of lunch for my birthday. They said, “We think you need it.” and walked away leaving me red faced and horrified that I would get caught with it by a teacher. Discovering a new way to play was very welcome. Happy Sweet Sixteen to me!

I began ordering a few things from Fredrick’s of Hollywood and would get sexy panties and bras whenever I had the money to do so. By my junior year of high school my knowledge of many types of fetishes and sexualities was expanded thanks to stumbling on a collection of stories by Anne Rice. 

With the inspiration to share some fantasies of my own, I would write naughty stories during homeroom and pass them to a few of the boys for “proof reading.” It’s something I did for years. I got caught once. That particular story ended up in the trash. That teacher, newly graduated from college and in his first year of teaching, stopped by my dorm the following year to say hello. I did not oblige him on his obvious infatuation. 

I know who I am. My stories and experiences have shaped me into a confident and sexual woman. A naughty little Vixen.

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About The Author:

Meg is a tenacious person. She has a lot of interesting life stories and likes to challenge herself by learning and trying new things. She is an excellent cook and baker. She can make and decorate elaborate cakes.  Health and fitness are a part of her lifestyle. She bought and is living in a foreclosure which she is making her own room by room. She is certified to teach pistol because she believes a woman should be comfortable defending herself. She enjoys hiking and is completing a certification in personal training. She is a badass 50 plus year old woman living life to its fullest. 

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To read additional articles by Megan Golwitzer, click here: https://tonyward.com/megan-mcgory-tulips/

Bob Shell: Prostitution?

A street prostitute walks towards customers car at night
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Text by Bob Shell, Copyright 2022

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Prostitution?

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I’ve just read that a number of major American cities have instructed their police departments to stop arresting people for prostitution and concentrate on important crimes. I say it’s about damn time — with one major reservation. 

As you may know, the reason legal brothels exist in parts of Nevada is simply that there is no federal law against prostitution. All such laws are state or local, and those Nevada counties have no such laws. 

I believe in maximum personal freedom, meaning I should have the right to do anything I want, so long as it doesn’t interfere with another person’s similar right. That’s true freedom, but as long as we have laws against ‘victimless’ crimes, none of us is truly free. 

So if someone — female or male — wants to practice prostitution, so long as they are mentally sound and take precautions to prevent spreading disease or undesired pregnancy, they should be left alone. 

My reservation concerns forced prostitution. As in most European countries, prostitution ought to be legal in the USA, licensed, and regulated. But pimping — pandering — ought to be illegal and prosecuted severely. No one should be forced into involuntary prostitution, and all money a person earns, except taxes, should be theirs. A pimp is the lowest form of slime, in my opinion. 

I know more than most about the workings of prostitution, because for a while back in those glorious 1960’s, I lived with a high class callgirl in Washington, DC. She was completely independent and a good businesswoman. 

Her clients included high placed government men, members of Congress, and similar. She charged high fees, only went with one client a night, only worked a few nights a week, and was answerable to no one but herself. 

Often, she was ‘arm candy’ taken to dinners in upscale restaurants, fancy parties, or other social events, on the arms of clients. She was, blonde, tall, slender, gorgeous, and dressed beautifully for her ‘dates,’ although when we met she was in tight jeans and a T-shirt.

We met at the lunch counter of Peoples drugstore on Dupont Circle when I was sort of down and out between jobs, temporarily with no place to live, staying with friends who would put up with me for a few nights. She took me home with her and I stayed with her until I found a job. I was sick with a cold when we met and she nursed me back to health. Julia Roberts’s character in ‘Pretty Woman’ could have been based on her. 

You may not believe me, but even though we became the best of friends we never had sex; she kept her business and private lives totally separated. After I found a job and an apartment, we remained best friends for a long time. I was someone she could talk to openly about almost anything. I’ve always been a good listener, and people feel comfortable with me. 

We lost touch when I moved to Richmond in 1968, a major mistake I’ll talk about at some point. 

People like her should not have to look over their shoulders for scummy vice cops. She harmed no one, and gave lonely men pleasant nights. That’s no crime, and this country is finally seeing that.

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a prostitute approaches a car potential customer on the street
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

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About The Author: Bob Shell is a professional photographer, author and former editor in chief of Shutterbug Magazine. He is currently serving a 35 year sentence for involuntary manslaughter for the death of Marion Franklin, one of his former models.  He is serving the 13th year of his sentence at Pocahontas State Correctional Facility, Virginia. To read Bob Shell’s, first essay on civil war, click here: https://tonywarderotica.com/bob-shell-another-milestone/

Editor’s Note: If you like Bob Shell’s blog posts, you’re sure to like his new book, COSMIC DANCE by Bob Shell (ISBN: 9781799224747, $ 12.95 book, $ 5.99 eBook) available now on Amazon.com . The book, his 26th, is a collection of essays written over the last twelve years in prison, none published anywhere before. It is subtitled, “A biologist’s reflections on space, time, reality, evolution, and the nature of consciousness,” which describes it pretty well. You can read a sample section and reviews on Amazon.com. Here’s the link: