Skip to main content

Rambling About Beauty

Beauty is personal, and it is cultural, and it is considered a shallow and fleeting thing. It is the number one hit on the empty flattery hit parade, and one could be forgiven for heavily discounting it. It is not the most important thing, but to deny that it has any importance at all is a lie.

I am very aware of beauty, in general, and as it applies to people (with emphasis on women). I think about what it is, and what it means. People often speak of beauty and attraction as though there is some kind of mind body dichotomy. People speak of someone having a kind heart, or a beautiful soul, and they also speak of a beautiful (or hot) body, and these things are spoken of as if they have no connection, and are entirely distinct realms.

I do not agree with this. A person's appearance is, to some extent a phenomenon of matter. People are constructs of flesh and bone, muscle and sinew. But they are alive, and they look alive because the person, the person within animates the stuff of their bodies. When I look at a person, a person's face, their body, I am seeing more than the physical, because I am seeing the way what is inside renders the physical form into a living person. One does not need to posit a magical spirit to say that one's soul shines from the eyes, that the face relays the character. And one does not need to consider that beautiful soul to be some kind of second rate consolation prize. That soul works in concert with the body to create a beautiful package.

So, what I see when I look at someone lovely, like LilyLloyd, is something more than just a nice arrangement of anatomy. I see the person making that glow. And that's appealing.

Comments

Fan Favorites

Water and Air

I am a creature of the sea. The water is my home, I in it, it in me. I am enveloped by it and I drink it in, nourished, filled with life, in happy union. I am a creature of the air. I fly above the blue water, sunlight bright on my skin. Bright dot against the sky. I dance, with you. I see you are a shining fish like me, come up from oceans different, yet much the same. We will each, in our time, seek sea's embrace again, then rise, and fly together, in the warm air.

On The Couch

Kids at a friends. I come home, and there you are, on the couch. Barefoot. Flannel shirt. Jeans. Drop my bag and I'm on you. Buttons fly everywhere. My hands all over. Reach in your pants. No panties! Rubbing your pussy. Faster. Don't cum yet. I push my cock in. Fucking until we can't move.

Buzz

The restaurant was not big, and not crowded. It was noisy. But dimly lit. He had asked for a table near the back, away from the door, and away from major traffic. Or, at least she assumed that he had. She'd seen him speaking to the Maitre'd before they sat, and he seemed very insistent. He sat next to her, which was unusual. He usually sat across the table, but here he was beside her. It began normally, with airy conversation, but he casually took a little box from his jacket pocket as he spoke. He put it on the table, and kept talking. She became curious, but she let him talk, and wondered. After a bit, he pushed the box toward her. She looked inside. It took a few minutes of examination to determine that the odd little object was a vibrator. It was more like a work of art. Only when she managed to switch it on did she understand what it was for. “Why are you giving this to me here?”, she asked. “Well”, he said, “read the card.” She notice