Category: Sinful Sunday

In order to get better spacing between Anonymous Sinful Sunday posts (and because I had a series of photos lined up to use last week), this ‘February’ edition is perhaps a bit misleadingly named. Many thanks to the two people who submitted photos for being patient about that; the work they supplied was definitely worth waiting for!

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I couldn’t resist the “senses” prompt for March. Soft or fuzzy fabric warms me up for a time of action and soothes me afterwards like nothing else.

Standing and Waiting

I rarely stand naked for anyone. Taking clothes off usually happens quickly as part of moving on to other activities. But, as a natural exhibitionist, I took this photo, dropping the robe away from my body and leaving the silk belt tied so that I could feel what it is like to invite appraisal. I hope you enjoy it.

At six o’clock on Friday morning, I flew to Marrakech for the weekend. The early flight necessitated either catching a bus from Central London in the middle of the night, or holing up for a few hours in the airport Radisson; despite the additional expense, I was always going to choose the latter.

Is that mainly because I place a disproportionately high value on a decent night’s sleep? Perhaps…but alongside any practical considerations sat one compelling, indisputable fact: airport hotels are sexy.

Actually, airports are sexy full-stop. Maybe not always – at their worst, they can be dull, dreary, depressing, or a mixture of the three – but pass through one on the right day, in the right mood, for the right reason, and they positively hum with the promise of desire soon to be fulfilled.

The hotels attached to them are even more of a tease. Their bars host a heady mix of bored business travellers, giddy holidaymakers, and those left in limbo by cancelled flights or lengthy layovers. Most airports sit miles away from the cities they serve; the hotel guests constitute a captive audience, penned in and forced to find their own entertainment. Looking down on the main bar from my room at the Stansted Radisson, I watched strangers strike up conversation; saw work colleagues gradually shift laptops to one side and huddle closer over their drinks, bathed in pools of soft yellow light.

They’re not for everyone, but to me there’s something romantic about that kind of casual, transient hook-up. Meeting someone as you’re passing through, then flying off in different directions the next morning; your lives briefly illuminated by the few hours you spend together behind a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and thick, soundproof curtains.

Maybe I’ve just watched Up In The Air too many times.

I didn’t venture down to the bar on Thursday night. Instead I lounged naked in my room with a bottle of wine and a good book. I put aside all cares and worries, and gave myself over to gleeful anticipation of the following morning’s flight; of a first trip to Africa; of the thrill of the new.

Airport hotels are sexy. Sometimes you don’t even need another person to help make them feel that way.

(Many thanks to the super-talented Oleander Plume for one again turning my mediocre attempts at photography into something approaching art!)

The first Anonymous Sinful Sunday of 2015 maintains the same high standards established over the second half of last year. All three photos – as well as the words that accompany them – offer something compelling; they’re sexy, honest, and playful, and as a result, very much within the Sinful Sunday tradition. I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as the three contributors clearly enjoyed taking them.

Winter in a Summer City

I spent the new year in Berlin. Us Brits like to create storms in teacups when it comes to the weather and three or four people had told me, with that slight tone of panic we so often use to talk about the weather, that Berlin was *definitely* a summer city. Why didn’t I wait a few months? Apparently I was foolish to be visiting when it would be so bitterly cold. I remembered a post from Exhibit A that mentioned naked sunbathing in Tiergarten and wondered fleetingly if the naysayers might be right. Then an idea was born…

There’s a no photography rule in Germany’s nude areas but unsurprisingly there weren’t too many naked people relaxing in Tiergarten’s retreating snow as the sun cast its weak light on the first day of 2015, so I broke the rules. The adrenalin rush and sharp bite of cold did wonders for my hangover!

Dressing Table

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The tights are supposed to show Mickey and Minnie kissing each other but I like to view it as Mickey and Minnie kissing my ankles. I would love a MFF threesome. I guess Mickey & Minnie kissing my ankles is as close as I’ve ever got.

I’ve really enjoyed hosting the anonymous Sinful Sunday photos over the last six months. Since launching the concept back in June, 13 sexy, challenging and beautiful images – from seven different women – have featured on this site (though one was later removed at the request of the person who submitted it). There’s been a mix of regular contributors and people who treated it as a thrilling one-off: an opportunity to do something they’d never done before and can’t imagine ever doing it again.

It didn’t entirely surprise me that all of the early submissions came from women. By and large, men have a much easier time of it on the internet, and it’s certainly a safer space for any guy wanting to show off his body. Few of us will be slut-shamed for posting photos of our dicks; nor does sharing explicit images tend to expose us to an unwanted slew of sexual advances, made on the assumption that because we get naked online, we ‘must be up for it’.

Still, I was starting to wonder whether I’d ever have a photo from a man to put up here – and then December happened. It might have taken six months, but on this final Sinful Sunday of 2014, it gives me great pleasure to present…

Going, Going, Gone

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There will be more Sinful Sunday from me in 2015, and hopefully more Anonymous posts as well!