Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but…
When a fan sent me a so-called Tribute Picture – my recent blog’s photographic image splattered with his cum – I found it a bit of a turn-on. No, not as much of a turn-on as he had no doubt felt (unlike my mystery man, I didn’t ejaculate!), but still…. Yes, I could sense my Big Clitty stiffening slightly against my fashionably tight-fitted leggings.
Why, I wonder?
I’m not being kissed, not being fondled, not even hearing sweet nothings whispered in my ear. Moreover, except for his digital moniker and Facebook image, I don’t even know who he is. Tall, dark and handsome? I haven’t a clue.
And yet…and yet…we’re now lovers of a sort, aren’t we, my admirer and me?
I guess back in the day of girlie magazines, the models fully expected the printed pages of their photographic poses to be splattered with sperm — splashed and smudged by readers ranging from teenaged virgins to dirty old men. But these girls never actually saw the physical result. Today everything is different….
Maybe the Tribute Picture is the natural, inevitable companion of the Selfie. Both shot alone, now together at last. True love in this digital age!