I didn't think I would ever post a normal picture of myself on the Internet, but I have done so. The first legitimate pictures of myself to be shared publicly are at Facebook.
Being here reminds me I need to finish that last short story. I seem to have stopped before anything good happened. That needs to be remedied very soon.
4.23.2010
4.17.2010
Short Slow Dance in Springtime
Gavin Devillier exhibited an ardent synchronization of his innermost persona that began in the first stages of his adult development. The unisonance between his surface identity and his most hidden soul grew stronger as his maturity progressed. Gavin often contemplated his deeper machinations, and he never displayed any sinister rumbling of dark, subconscious motivations. He glowed with the balance of a man who energetically worked to improve himself and the world around him.
From moment to moment Devillier focused dynamically on understanding his identity and his role in the niche he occupied. Gavin acted and thought in accordance with an increasing rate of internal cultivation that led to his subsequent growth as a brilliant mind in the field of landscape architecture. The work he did showcased his internal equilibrium. His reputation climbed higher, and his business flourished. The grounds and gardens he created captured attention with a striking beauty that spoke entirely for itself, the ultimate proof of outstanding design.
Gavin Devillier lived a purpose driven life without any deliberate attempt to do so. He exhibited a supraliminal evolution that gathered momentum from interaction with other people in common day to day existence. He steadily advanced as a human being, if not to a pinnacle of distinguished perfection then to a minimum of distinct perfectionism with a bow to ne plus ultra. On top of all those other outstanding features of Gavin's character, he also shone brightly in intimate relationships.
Extremely long term commitment to one woman was not a conscious goal Gavin set his sights on. He did not begin an affair with marriage in mind, and he was always honest about that if he was asked. He never ruled it out, but Gavin instead always made sure the woman he was with enjoyed their time together as much as possible. He endeavored to make a relationship bloom with the same radiance as his landscapes, and looked to the future hopefully. That was his mindset on one breezy, mild Saturday in the middle of spring when he decided to go out one afternoon.
Gavin decided to drink virgin piña coladas at a nice restaurant with a large bar by the marinas on Lake Pontchartrain in New Orleans, intent on remedying the fact that he was single. His last relationship had ended months earlier. It ended very amicably, but it ended nonetheless. He felt he had given himself more than enough time to approach a fresh romance with a completely clean slate.
Nature had smiled upon Gavin Devillier. He was quite a handsome man who stood just under six feet tall. He looked very good in a bathing suit, not that he would be wearing one that afternoon. He was in fantastic shape. Gavin's well toned muscles, dark complexion, auburn hair and bright blue eyes made him very attractive. His physical appearance coupled with his conversational skills nearly always allowed him to at least pass some pleasant time in the company of a likewise attractive woman.
A steaming hot shower before going out always made Gavin relaxed and comfortable in public. He prided himself on his cleanliness. As the water splashed over his back and stomach all the accumulated muscle tension from the earlier hours of the day receded. After a good lathering and long rinse he always derived a burst of fresh, renewed vigor. While drying himself off with a thick, soft towel it occurred to him how fortunate he was to have such a wonderful feeling.
A preliminary scan of his wardrobe led Gavin to first pick out starched khaki pants and smart but comfortable brown Italian loafers. He opted for a bright, trim, short sleeved white cotton dress shirt because it contrasted nicely with his skin. He wore a moderately expensive Movado on his right wrist and his Master's Degree ring on his right hand. He also chose a dark brown, elaborately hand-worked belt with a sterling belt buckle in the shape of a Celtic knot. Gavin liked to show himself off when he went out.
Half an hour later at the fine restaurant where he decided to watch the sunset, Gavin had a valet park his one year old convertible Thunderbird. The valet commented on how nice the car was, and Gavin smiled. He thought of the car as his chrome and baby blue guilty pleasure. He spent more money on it than he wanted to, but had been delighted by how much fun it was to have. Not only that, he noticed that his entrance caught the eye of a number of lovely eyes on the balcony, from which everyone had a splendid view of the lake.
The pretty young hostess smiled at Gavin as he told her he was just going to the upstairs bar. For a brief moment he wished he was ten years younger because of how appealing he found the idea of being compatible with the young lady. He easily let go of the idea as he walked briskly up the stairs to the balcony, but then sauntered to one of the high backed stools to refrain from appearing anxious or hurried.
Captain Jack's, as the place was called, served the finest virgin piña coladas in the world, as far as Gavin was concerned. He didn't like to drink while meeting new people. Unlike so many people who used alcohol to loosen their tongues while trying to meet members of the opposite sex, Gavin considered the effects of alcohol a major hindrance to his communication skills. Although not averse to having a night of casual sex with a woman he greatly preferred the idea of sex on a second or third meeting, and so he really wanted his skills at judging character to be unimpaired.
While ordering and waiting for his drink Gavin surreptitiously scanned the faces of the ladies he shared the crowded bar with. There was a striking blond woman with the sharp dress of someone who had spent some time in the office Saturday, but she only briefly exchanged glances with him and appeared to be there mostly to unwind. Other ladies at the bar, sitting together in two groups of two, were even less prone to make eye contact. Another woman seated by herself at the bar had reddish brown hair, a healthy peach complexion and a sweet face. She was wearing a colorful sun dress and smiled at him when he looked at her. He smiled back and took his time looking away, in a gentlemanly fashion. He was enchanted by her appearance drawn to the idea of speaking with her.
After taking one sip off of his drink Gavin walked over to the honeyed young lady in the sun dress. She appeared to be in her late twenties, easily close enough to his own thirty-six years to be compatible. As Gavin got closer her he noticed she was wearing a pretty necklace of long, thin black beads interspersed with thick mother-of-pearl pieces in the shapes of doves. She didn't seem the least bit skittish of his approach, and that put Gavin at ease.
"Hi. What's your name?" he asked her. That was how he started every conversation with every person he didn't already know. He saw no reason to change the simplest and most wining conversation starter.
"My name is Melinda. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"
"My name is Gavin Devillier," he responded.
For one quick moment the conversation stalled, but Melinda rescued it. "I've heard of you. You're a landscape architect. I'm Melinda Newcomb. I'm an assistant manager of the Orleans Royale."
Gavin noticed she barely had any drink left, although he wasn't sure what she had been drinking. He hated to do it, but he voiced the inevitable line. "Can I buy you a drink?" He quickly followed with, "What are you drinking? I'll get you another drink." Gavin found himself in one of those rare moments when he was flustered.
"Sure, you can buy me a drink, Gavin. I'm having Coca-Cola," Melinda told him in a cool, mellifluous voice.
- to be continued
[unedited]
From moment to moment Devillier focused dynamically on understanding his identity and his role in the niche he occupied. Gavin acted and thought in accordance with an increasing rate of internal cultivation that led to his subsequent growth as a brilliant mind in the field of landscape architecture. The work he did showcased his internal equilibrium. His reputation climbed higher, and his business flourished. The grounds and gardens he created captured attention with a striking beauty that spoke entirely for itself, the ultimate proof of outstanding design.
Gavin Devillier lived a purpose driven life without any deliberate attempt to do so. He exhibited a supraliminal evolution that gathered momentum from interaction with other people in common day to day existence. He steadily advanced as a human being, if not to a pinnacle of distinguished perfection then to a minimum of distinct perfectionism with a bow to ne plus ultra. On top of all those other outstanding features of Gavin's character, he also shone brightly in intimate relationships.
Extremely long term commitment to one woman was not a conscious goal Gavin set his sights on. He did not begin an affair with marriage in mind, and he was always honest about that if he was asked. He never ruled it out, but Gavin instead always made sure the woman he was with enjoyed their time together as much as possible. He endeavored to make a relationship bloom with the same radiance as his landscapes, and looked to the future hopefully. That was his mindset on one breezy, mild Saturday in the middle of spring when he decided to go out one afternoon.
Gavin decided to drink virgin piña coladas at a nice restaurant with a large bar by the marinas on Lake Pontchartrain in New Orleans, intent on remedying the fact that he was single. His last relationship had ended months earlier. It ended very amicably, but it ended nonetheless. He felt he had given himself more than enough time to approach a fresh romance with a completely clean slate.
Nature had smiled upon Gavin Devillier. He was quite a handsome man who stood just under six feet tall. He looked very good in a bathing suit, not that he would be wearing one that afternoon. He was in fantastic shape. Gavin's well toned muscles, dark complexion, auburn hair and bright blue eyes made him very attractive. His physical appearance coupled with his conversational skills nearly always allowed him to at least pass some pleasant time in the company of a likewise attractive woman.
A steaming hot shower before going out always made Gavin relaxed and comfortable in public. He prided himself on his cleanliness. As the water splashed over his back and stomach all the accumulated muscle tension from the earlier hours of the day receded. After a good lathering and long rinse he always derived a burst of fresh, renewed vigor. While drying himself off with a thick, soft towel it occurred to him how fortunate he was to have such a wonderful feeling.
A preliminary scan of his wardrobe led Gavin to first pick out starched khaki pants and smart but comfortable brown Italian loafers. He opted for a bright, trim, short sleeved white cotton dress shirt because it contrasted nicely with his skin. He wore a moderately expensive Movado on his right wrist and his Master's Degree ring on his right hand. He also chose a dark brown, elaborately hand-worked belt with a sterling belt buckle in the shape of a Celtic knot. Gavin liked to show himself off when he went out.
Half an hour later at the fine restaurant where he decided to watch the sunset, Gavin had a valet park his one year old convertible Thunderbird. The valet commented on how nice the car was, and Gavin smiled. He thought of the car as his chrome and baby blue guilty pleasure. He spent more money on it than he wanted to, but had been delighted by how much fun it was to have. Not only that, he noticed that his entrance caught the eye of a number of lovely eyes on the balcony, from which everyone had a splendid view of the lake.
The pretty young hostess smiled at Gavin as he told her he was just going to the upstairs bar. For a brief moment he wished he was ten years younger because of how appealing he found the idea of being compatible with the young lady. He easily let go of the idea as he walked briskly up the stairs to the balcony, but then sauntered to one of the high backed stools to refrain from appearing anxious or hurried.
Captain Jack's, as the place was called, served the finest virgin piña coladas in the world, as far as Gavin was concerned. He didn't like to drink while meeting new people. Unlike so many people who used alcohol to loosen their tongues while trying to meet members of the opposite sex, Gavin considered the effects of alcohol a major hindrance to his communication skills. Although not averse to having a night of casual sex with a woman he greatly preferred the idea of sex on a second or third meeting, and so he really wanted his skills at judging character to be unimpaired.
While ordering and waiting for his drink Gavin surreptitiously scanned the faces of the ladies he shared the crowded bar with. There was a striking blond woman with the sharp dress of someone who had spent some time in the office Saturday, but she only briefly exchanged glances with him and appeared to be there mostly to unwind. Other ladies at the bar, sitting together in two groups of two, were even less prone to make eye contact. Another woman seated by herself at the bar had reddish brown hair, a healthy peach complexion and a sweet face. She was wearing a colorful sun dress and smiled at him when he looked at her. He smiled back and took his time looking away, in a gentlemanly fashion. He was enchanted by her appearance drawn to the idea of speaking with her.
After taking one sip off of his drink Gavin walked over to the honeyed young lady in the sun dress. She appeared to be in her late twenties, easily close enough to his own thirty-six years to be compatible. As Gavin got closer her he noticed she was wearing a pretty necklace of long, thin black beads interspersed with thick mother-of-pearl pieces in the shapes of doves. She didn't seem the least bit skittish of his approach, and that put Gavin at ease.
"Hi. What's your name?" he asked her. That was how he started every conversation with every person he didn't already know. He saw no reason to change the simplest and most wining conversation starter.
"My name is Melinda. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"
"My name is Gavin Devillier," he responded.
For one quick moment the conversation stalled, but Melinda rescued it. "I've heard of you. You're a landscape architect. I'm Melinda Newcomb. I'm an assistant manager of the Orleans Royale."
Gavin noticed she barely had any drink left, although he wasn't sure what she had been drinking. He hated to do it, but he voiced the inevitable line. "Can I buy you a drink?" He quickly followed with, "What are you drinking? I'll get you another drink." Gavin found himself in one of those rare moments when he was flustered.
"Sure, you can buy me a drink, Gavin. I'm having Coca-Cola," Melinda told him in a cool, mellifluous voice.
- to be continued
[unedited]
3.22.2010
3.21.2010
Won for the Rose Lives
Behind "Breaking in the Newish Antenna" [the hidden CD track for this album -- Won for the Rose Lives] I've released the sung lyrics and melody for "Ambrosiac," song one of the album. It's just a teaser. It will be released with played piano when I'm finished with the entire album. I'm halfway through the compositions of this album, so maybe another 6-9 weeks until release.
The archive page:
Ambrosiac
Currently only in ogg vorbis at the Archive, but my pages have so far always been translated to multiple formats. If that doesn't happen you can check out Xiph for a guide on how to use ogg vorbis. And all this talk has just been a way to keep my face from turning red over singing "prettily." ;)
The archive page:
Ambrosiac
Currently only in ogg vorbis at the Archive, but my pages have so far always been translated to multiple formats. If that doesn't happen you can check out Xiph for a guide on how to use ogg vorbis. And all this talk has just been a way to keep my face from turning red over singing "prettily." ;)
3.13.2010
Saira IV
A man opened his eyes. There was no one in the room with him, but the lingering pressure made his ears ring, and the words of someone he could not see buzzed in the air. His vision went from blurry to double to clear as his mind opened to the evening air. He had dozed in the late afternoon. He got off of the floor and picked up the pillow he had slept on.
In the fading light he looked out the windows. Through the windows on the north side the snow of the mountain stopped fifty feet short of the clearing that contained the building. Through the south side windows he could see the hunting companions he had arrived with leaving in a truck, three in the front and two in the back, down a gravel road free of snow. The massive trees marked their progress out of sight. There were no sounds.
Puzzled by the silence the man took stock of his surroundings. There was a long, polished hardwood table, a straight table, with eight chairs pulled in around it. There was a longhorns mounted above a fireplace, which contained the dying embers of a fire. A small bookcase built into the wall contained travel books. On one entire wall was a map of the region.
The man walked out of the room. Lights hanging from the ceiling made everything light and comfortable to the eye. To his right in the hallway was the door to the outside world, and to his left the hall met the ancient tree. He walked to the first set of stairs and began to ascend.
The walls displayed hung photographs of different locations the world over. There were pictures of New Orleans, Havana, Barcelona, Turkey. In every one there was a little boy smiling at the person who took the pictures, or focussed on some activity. In some he was playing with toys, others drawing with crayons, and in one he was putting together the pieces of a large puzzle.
The second floor brought the sounds of a man and a woman making love. There were only three doors on the corridor, on the side closest to the ancient tree. The other side had a glassed in balcony that looked out over the floor of the great forest that stretched out and away from the spectacular hunting camp.
Not wanting to disturb anyone staying in the rooms the man continued climbing the stairs to the third floor, by walking twenty five paces to the north. That was the manner in which the structure pulled away from the tree and moved over the massive two story columns that held up the third floor, which was completely separated from the tree.
The stairs changed style after the second floor. The walls opened out around the stairway, with banisters of wrought iron, with twirling rose vines and flower reliefs. The third story revealed walls of polished walnut, finished super smooth and shiny. There were two women sitting on a leather covered seat with metal legs. Their eyes drank in the sight of the man, and they both smiled.
The women wore shiny latex bras with opened nipples, one with double straps around the center f the breasts, the other with little gold chains hanging over them above the vinyl. One woman smirked and stood up, walking away in knee high leather boots and a leather skirt that was open assed, revealing the a tiny leather g string that ran up between her cheeks and covered her sphincter. The other woman looked at the man and licked her upper lip lasciviously, a devilish gleam in her eyes.
The girl, in her late twenties, had on a leather collar and a small leather bikini bottom. She was wearing high heels and lace stockings with no garters. The air crackled with the clarity of the giving and open sexuality. Her name was Saira.
The man, Roger, walked over to her to ask her something, like where she came from or who she was. Before he got to her the words were gone. The sight of her made his manhood swell and throb with such a deep intensity he could find no thoughts left, but only desire for her flesh.
Saira stood up off of the seat and took two steps to the man. He grabbed her before she reached him, and he pulled her body close to his. Roger picked her up in his arms to carry her to a bed. They both knew the nature of the dwelling, and the closest door held an empty room.
Saira tore at his shirt even as he settled her down on the mattress. Roger took it off as she grappled with his belt an his pants button. She had them open and his fly down before he could get his shirt off. She pulled his pants down and grabbed at his cock, greedily plunging it into her mouth, licking and sucking it as the veins bulged and the blood swelled to a purplish color. She bobbed her mouth up and down upon it, but she was interrupted. His desire to be inside her was just too great for him to allow her to continue the tongue worship.
He yanked off her bikini, likely damaging it beyond repair. He pushed her down upon the bed as she guided him inside her. She cried out as he plunged into her to the hilt. The moisture of her pussy bubbled out around him, and the contact as he began to pump in and out of her caused her to moan and writhe uncontrollably.
Roger held her wrists with one hand above her head and with the other pulled at a ring at the back of her throat, just enough to inhibit her oxygen flow and increase her dizzying surrender to the pleasure. He licked her ear lobe ever so lightly as he moved inside her, tickling her with his tongue and tormenting her senses even further.
Roger's pelvis pounded Saira's clitoris sternly with every stroke, causing her to react with gasps and shaking. She was unable to control her climax as he mastered her, dragging her awareness out into one long earth shattering submission to the feeling. She screamed several times, but he was not finished.
Driving with every fiber of his being the man finally felt the explosion of orgasm in his brain as his seed exploded inside her. He made one strangled little sound as he let go of her collar and her wrists and pulled her body in as close to his contours as he could, kissing her on the cheek and mouth.
“That was good, Roger,” Saira purred. “Did you enjoy it?”
“You know I always do,' he responded.
In the fading light he looked out the windows. Through the windows on the north side the snow of the mountain stopped fifty feet short of the clearing that contained the building. Through the south side windows he could see the hunting companions he had arrived with leaving in a truck, three in the front and two in the back, down a gravel road free of snow. The massive trees marked their progress out of sight. There were no sounds.
Puzzled by the silence the man took stock of his surroundings. There was a long, polished hardwood table, a straight table, with eight chairs pulled in around it. There was a longhorns mounted above a fireplace, which contained the dying embers of a fire. A small bookcase built into the wall contained travel books. On one entire wall was a map of the region.
The man walked out of the room. Lights hanging from the ceiling made everything light and comfortable to the eye. To his right in the hallway was the door to the outside world, and to his left the hall met the ancient tree. He walked to the first set of stairs and began to ascend.
The walls displayed hung photographs of different locations the world over. There were pictures of New Orleans, Havana, Barcelona, Turkey. In every one there was a little boy smiling at the person who took the pictures, or focussed on some activity. In some he was playing with toys, others drawing with crayons, and in one he was putting together the pieces of a large puzzle.
The second floor brought the sounds of a man and a woman making love. There were only three doors on the corridor, on the side closest to the ancient tree. The other side had a glassed in balcony that looked out over the floor of the great forest that stretched out and away from the spectacular hunting camp.
Not wanting to disturb anyone staying in the rooms the man continued climbing the stairs to the third floor, by walking twenty five paces to the north. That was the manner in which the structure pulled away from the tree and moved over the massive two story columns that held up the third floor, which was completely separated from the tree.
The stairs changed style after the second floor. The walls opened out around the stairway, with banisters of wrought iron, with twirling rose vines and flower reliefs. The third story revealed walls of polished walnut, finished super smooth and shiny. There were two women sitting on a leather covered seat with metal legs. Their eyes drank in the sight of the man, and they both smiled.
The women wore shiny latex bras with opened nipples, one with double straps around the center f the breasts, the other with little gold chains hanging over them above the vinyl. One woman smirked and stood up, walking away in knee high leather boots and a leather skirt that was open assed, revealing the a tiny leather g string that ran up between her cheeks and covered her sphincter. The other woman looked at the man and licked her upper lip lasciviously, a devilish gleam in her eyes.
The girl, in her late twenties, had on a leather collar and a small leather bikini bottom. She was wearing high heels and lace stockings with no garters. The air crackled with the clarity of the giving and open sexuality. Her name was Saira.
The man, Roger, walked over to her to ask her something, like where she came from or who she was. Before he got to her the words were gone. The sight of her made his manhood swell and throb with such a deep intensity he could find no thoughts left, but only desire for her flesh.
Saira stood up off of the seat and took two steps to the man. He grabbed her before she reached him, and he pulled her body close to his. Roger picked her up in his arms to carry her to a bed. They both knew the nature of the dwelling, and the closest door held an empty room.
Saira tore at his shirt even as he settled her down on the mattress. Roger took it off as she grappled with his belt an his pants button. She had them open and his fly down before he could get his shirt off. She pulled his pants down and grabbed at his cock, greedily plunging it into her mouth, licking and sucking it as the veins bulged and the blood swelled to a purplish color. She bobbed her mouth up and down upon it, but she was interrupted. His desire to be inside her was just too great for him to allow her to continue the tongue worship.
He yanked off her bikini, likely damaging it beyond repair. He pushed her down upon the bed as she guided him inside her. She cried out as he plunged into her to the hilt. The moisture of her pussy bubbled out around him, and the contact as he began to pump in and out of her caused her to moan and writhe uncontrollably.
Roger held her wrists with one hand above her head and with the other pulled at a ring at the back of her throat, just enough to inhibit her oxygen flow and increase her dizzying surrender to the pleasure. He licked her ear lobe ever so lightly as he moved inside her, tickling her with his tongue and tormenting her senses even further.
Roger's pelvis pounded Saira's clitoris sternly with every stroke, causing her to react with gasps and shaking. She was unable to control her climax as he mastered her, dragging her awareness out into one long earth shattering submission to the feeling. She screamed several times, but he was not finished.
Driving with every fiber of his being the man finally felt the explosion of orgasm in his brain as his seed exploded inside her. He made one strangled little sound as he let go of her collar and her wrists and pulled her body in as close to his contours as he could, kissing her on the cheek and mouth.
“That was good, Roger,” Saira purred. “Did you enjoy it?”
“You know I always do,' he responded.
2.27.2010
Hasty
I may post a story here one day. I like naughtiness. This will be the only place anything new can be found.
2.07.2010
Closed
I don't get paid for this. It's not worth holding onto.
Objective writing: Villa Leviatodos
Political humor: Zero Symbolism
sex: if we're lucky enough to meet somehow, against impossible odds (I became a writer [stupid, stupid, stupid])
Objective writing: Villa Leviatodos
Political humor: Zero Symbolism
sex: if we're lucky enough to meet somehow, against impossible odds (I became a writer [stupid, stupid, stupid])
1.25.2010
1.24.2010
1.23.2010
1.22.2010
1.21.2010
1.20.2010
1.19.2010
1.18.2010
1.17.2010
1.16.2010
1.14.2010
Note
I am not particularly attracted to younger women. I think they are prettier to look at than older people, in a lot of ways, but the truth of the matter is that I don't think they would have enough experience to understand the intricacies of my desires and needs in a relationship. These just happened to be the images of pretty ladies I was able to find without a lot of effort. I don't put a lot of effort into this. It's something I do for fun, and in fact just started doing.
1.13.2010
1.12.2010
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