Look, Oggle, and Dream. . .

I’ve had a week that is screwball. The air conditioning went out which means the interior of the house is 85 degrees while outside is 90 or more. I went to work today thinking air conditioning yes! Drove the car with the air conditioning on full blast for the first 15 minutes. Get home tonight and wishing hard the house was cool. I know better but dreams can come true. Not so this time. I got the mail and walked back to the car to take things inside. As I open the car door cool air hits me as the interior is till cool. I wanted to crawl inside and not come out. Then my mind taps me on the shoulder saying you need to go in and check on the house. Inside it’s 85! Sun has gone down. I’ve got fans on. Other half texts me saying you need to turn A/C off for them to come work on it tomorrow. Excuse me while I laugh and stammer. He’ll turn it off in morning and show me where main breaker is. For now I’m enjoying the picture above, imaging being as dressed as he is with a cool drink and pool beside me.

Enjoy some creative daydreaming in the flash below.

Solara
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I glance up wondering where the next candidate is. Heat rolls off the desert sands in large visible waves distorting the landscape before plunging deep into the canyon beyond. Enjoying the brief coolness the infrequent bursts of wind bring, I’ve discarded my clothes. All who come to me are to be nude as well.

I hear footsteps. A young male enters, hesitating and glancing about the small adobe dwelling I occupy. My studio’s simple trappings allow me to create without interruption or worldly influence. His gaze meets mine. His hands worry the blanket knotted around his waist.

I motion him forward, smiling and nodding. He waits as though weighing his decision. I’m sure he’s heard the rumors and stories of the white woman with graying hair looking for handsome Native American males to capture in art or photo. I no longer capture the looks and winks I did in my youth. I’ve lived a full life. Still, a nubile young hard male body sets my heart to racing. My mons moistens with excitement. He has dropped his blanket part way.

I grab my camera and click shot after shot as my girlish psyche sweeps me back in time to when such a treat was mine for sampling.

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