It bugs me that on WordPress I can apparently only put a full picture, or a very tiny thumbnail. Does anybody know how to make the thumbnail much bigger? 

Oh boy, yummy.

And now for something completely different…

I just love vintage nudist pictures. They are so beautiful, charming, and innocent.

(These are from Domai.com’s Vintage CD-1.)

Size doesn’t matter, the saying goes. Just as looks are not important.
Yes, probably. Ultimately both things are true. And it is true that looks and size are less important than more spiritual qualities. And it is true they matter little when you’re in love.
But I find that for immediate attraction and for fantasies, looks and size are all important. I am not going to have sex fantasies about a old, ugly man with a tiny dick, am I?
OK, when fantasizing about girls, I like both small and big tits. But you don’t insert those anywhere, so that’s different.

Have you seen those fine art drawings with a man or a satyr or whatever, with a cock almost as big as he is himself? I think those are really sexy. I am not sure why I think so, for you’ll never see it in real life, and if you did, you couldn’t insert it anywhere… But fantasy does not have to be logical, I guess.

Until a couple of years ago, my impression of BDSM (Bondage/Discipline-Domination/Submission-Sadism/Masochism) was like what is probably a widespread one:
1: It is abberant behavior, maybe based on early trauma.
2: If somebody really enjoys it, it is only love-taps, not hard ones.
3: Nobody young and attractive are into it.

That changed as I got into it, and especially after I found some sites like spankingteenjessica.com.
Jessica is young and very cute, and she clearly has tons of fun getting spanked, and getting it hard too.

I decided not to post the images in full size, since some people don’t like this stuff at all.

Pictures of Jessica in bondage.

Pictures of Jessica getting spanked.

Well, according to her story, Jessica did get spanked as a child, but no more than is normal in the US. And her friend Brandi, who has a semilar fetish and site, did not at all.
I’ve learned that attractive and sane people can be into SM and spanking, and it is not a sick thing.
I really enjoy books and videos about it. And I even find I’ve learned to enjoy moderate pain myself, though I find a flogger much more tolerable than a board or a cane.

I dream of bathing with Mia (below) in a pond in the contryside. We would use rough, grey, natural soap, and dip it in the water and rub it all over each other’s bodies. Her big, heavy breasts are very sensitive, and she closes her eyes when I wash them. I rub the grainy soap over her nipples.
We never make love, but we lie down in the soft, long grass, and trade long kisses while the birds sing for us.
We both lie back and look at the clouds, holding hands while the sun goes low in the sky.

I was sitting on a bench in the park today, Østre Anlæg, which is a very nice park a bit north of central Copenhagen. It is not the best known park due to location, but perhaps my favorite one, it is not flat like the centrally placed King’s Garden, but hilly with trees and lakes and so on. And much larger than one might expect in a small city like Cop.

Even though it is early september, it is still very summery weather, as often happens in Denmark. I leaned back and closed my eyes, enjoying the sunshine. The trees overhead threw some light shadows on me, and as they moved in the breeze, the light flickered on my eyelids.

I began feeling warm all over, and I started fantasizing. I imagined I was sleeping on a tropical beach. The sea was a deep, deep blue. A young native man came walking by. He only wore a loincloth and carried a spear. His eyes were dark brown, and he looked at my with such curiosity that I woke up. I sat up, and realized I was naked. I did not feel shame. I leaned back in the warm sand, and as if by accident I spread my legs a little more.

He sat down next to me. He gave me his spear and said something I did not understand. The long spear felt curiously warm, almost alive.

I smiled at him, and I put my hand on his thigh. He looked at me intensely and started breathing faster. I slid my hand up further.

A bulge started appearing in his brown leather loincloth. I rubbed his inner thigh. The bulge grew. I touched it gingerly.

To my amazement it kept growing, and out from under the loincloth peeked his manly weapon. It was almost black, like the rest of his skin.

It kept growing, and the dark purple head started peeking out from the foreskin.

I touched it, and it kept growing to the size of a cucumber and more. In the dream it did not seems strange. I started rubbing it, and I had to use two hands.

I kneeled in the sand with my backside towards him, rested my head on the warm sand, and spread my thighs.

(Disclaimer: all contents on this blog are fictional, including my identity.)Call me Blom. Cora Blom. All names are made up. Heck, everything is made up. I am 22 years old, female, slender, I work as a receptionist in Copenhagen and studying to become a journalist. I have little time for a real relationship, so I use this blog to write down my thoughts and fantasies. I have not tried much in real life yet, but I am thinking a lot about trying more with other girls, and bondage and spanking and such stuff… I look like this… I wish! Well, I could be mistaken for this girl. If you don’t wear your glasses.I am not *that* beautiful, but people say I am pretty, and to be immodest about it, sometimes I agree. (It is an advantage to being cute and a little gay: you only need a mirror to get yourself hot and bothered.)The picture of course is from my favorite girl-picture site DOMAI.com, used with permission. I have yet to find a good site with tasteful nudes of men (and not a gay porn site), but DOMAI certainly fulfills the function when you want to look at pretty girls.I am just having a little fun with this blog, writing whatever takes my fancy. I hope you enjoy it. Of course this being the Internet, for all you know, I might be a 70-year-old hunchback in Peru.  And in any case, I rather favour Plato’s view… the ideal is the thing; the world beyond fiction’s mirror, that is the true world. And we are but the faintest of reflections, grown pale beneath the glass.