Faceless Woman with Large Bum
As I watch Iron Chef America, I feel the urge to describe this charcoal drawing I did a couple years back with a culinary mindset.
This is a full-bodied, succulent dish marinated in a creamy red glaze and served on a bed of crisp linen-like filo dough. It is accompanied by a small arugula salad with balsamic vinaigrette and two scoops of garlic mashed potatoes topped with parika. Head has been tastefully removed. Best with a rich merlot.
Upon my fathers lonely grave
solemnly do I swear
not once did I ever think
that I’d find myself
cheating on my lovely wife
of nearly twenty-five years
the mother of my only son
even then in my wildest
most erotic and outlandish
wet dreams and sexual fantasies
most definitely not with a girl
young enough to be my daughter
but there I was making love
to a girl so young and sweet
though not the least bit innocent
beneath the clean sheets
of the very bed I still share
with my wife of twenty-five years
within the all consuming fires
the excitement of forbidden passion
like the legendary Phoenix
for a moment in and out of time
my youth was reborn
while my flagging spirits
with the youthfulness of my lover
twas renewed and recharged
like the waning battery of a cell phone
with the orbs of her luscious breasts
pressed against my aging chest
the entire length of my throbbing lance
buried in the depths of her wetness
all four of her limbs wrapped
tightly about my rapidly fading body
once more the days of former glory
the sexual conquests of old
did I relive within the youthful arms
of my twenty year old lover
a raven haired and curvaceous
goddess of extraordinary beauty
the lovely daughter of my best friend
oh my now what have I done
Like always it started out as something
oh so simple and entirely innocent
just a single glance was all it took
a gaze that seemed to last an eternity
to make my rock cock to throb
her pussy so wet and oh so very wild
with both our hearts beating in tandem
our hormones raging out of control
atop the backseat of an old beat up car
we tore off each others clothes
banged each other like there’d be
no more yesterdays and no tomorrows
Ladies and gentleman, your Playboy Miss November 1959 — the lovely and talented Donna Lynn. (applause.)
As far as I know the whole shoot was photographed by Frank Bez.
As you can see, Playboy was starting to get their shit together and have a strong budget by this point, enough not to cobble together hack photographers and shitty sets in eight different crummy apartments to put together a single spread. Consistency is important for the overall feel of a shoot. These look like they were all done around the same place, a nice spread of house with a good-sized backyard in some smoggy shithole suburb of L.A.
Art direction was actually beginning to play a part in the magazine’s design and composition. Sex sells. Slickly packaged sex sells better, and for more.
I find it just so unforgivably rude when people screw around on the phone when you are trying to have an in-person social conversation.
Miss Lynn was like bazillions of buxom blondes, a pretty girl who made her way from the midwest to Los Angeles with dreams of being a star. She must have had a smidge of tinfoil and gritty hustle behind that vacuous smile, because she came closer than most, landing not just a plush job and a centerfold spot, but a movie part from a big name, too. The Playboy sez:
Cocktail Waitress on the Sunset Strip
In Hollywood even the girls who wait tables are beautiful!
It is news to nobody that Hollywood is the cutie capital of the country, racking up more shapeliness per square inch — or maybe we mean round inch — than any other city in the nation, probably the world. To its sun-drenched purlieus swarm America’s loveliest lasses, all eager for film and TV stardom. Of course, stardom doesn’t usually come overnight and while they’re waiting the hopeful honeys take jobs as waitresses and car hops, cashiers and receptionists — which accounts for the high degree of pulchritude among Hollywood’s hired help. Even in such a splendorous setting, blonde Donna Lynn is a standout. As a waitress, she brightens The Cloister, a smart supper club on Hollywood’s famous Sunset Strip. There recently Mickey Rooney spotted her and signed her up for a part in his new motion picture The Private Lives of Adam and Eve. There recently we spotted her, too, and decided she was just what we’d been seeking for Miss November.
In the imdb’s cast list for the 1960 Rooney flop (guess it must have been one of the ones he drank his way through), she is credited as “Wednesday,” along with several other cast members named for days of the week. Her next part is listed, bizarrely, as “10 year old girl” a decade later on a 1971 episode of The Partridge Family, which I’m going to chalk up to a mistake.
Tan lines are like highlights for what you are not ordinarily allowed to see. Ladies, STOP laying in the booths naked. Way more hot to be stripey.
In fact, the credits her file at imdb lists from that point really take a nosedive in believable accuracy, so I’m assuming there was some kind of huge mistake in identity, because I seriously doubt that in 1981, having been born in 1936, she was in any shape to play “Kiki” in Hollywood High II (“It’s the end of the semester and finals are near, but that doesn’t stop the girls of Hollywood High from having fun. From the pool to the beach, they cavort with their boyfriends, drink, and smoke a joint or two!”). Her final alleged credit is 1988’s Hollywood’s New Blood, a horror film about which one imdb user commented, “A nursery school pageant is more professional.”
Malibu? Laguna?
Here she is, back in 1959 where we can be sure it was she, and reasonably clad to boot, washing a pretty freaking sweet indeedy Renault Dauphine; they did not always make teeny cars built to demolish one another jostling for parking on the streets of Paris. Even the French automaking industry was in the post-WWII car manufacturing heyday a decophilic slave to the beautiful trappings of finned and glorious car architecture.
Marvel of design. Car’s okay, too.
Hef & Co. were also very concerned with the physiology of sleep and how well you were resting, evinced by the cover theme. (That bunny looks twisted. Dude is toe up. I hate when people get animals drunk!)
She stood alone upon the brow of the precipice
overlooking the restless waves of the ocean blue
enjoying the colorful blush of the morning sun
a cool breeze blowing through her luscious autumn hair
Scanning the distant horizon across the deep blue sea
eagerly seeking the glimpse of a sail powered by the wind
signaling the return to port of the sailing vessel
that carried her true love to distant far away shores
For many months she had dwelled in their cottage missing him
watching from the cliffs every morning and evening
placing a candle each night within the window facing the sea
to guide the only man she would ever truly love home once more
How she longed to feel his strong yet gentle arms holding her
to gaze deeply into his sky blue eyes as he softly kissed her lips
the way he lightly caressed the feminine curves of her body
coaxing the flames of her passions into the fullness of arousal
Longing to share with him the deepest secrets of her soul
to confide her hopes and dreams of their future
walking with her hand in his along the moonlit shore
sharing a bottle of wine while cuddled together next to the hearth
Each night she lays alone within her bed sleeping
how she aches to feel the sensations of his warm fingertips
lightly tracing the curves of her full ripe breasts
ever downward across her stomach to the curves of her hips
To feel the warmth of his sweet breath upon her neck
the fullness of his manhood within the cleft of her wetness
while wrapping her arms and slender thighs about him
the warmth of his seed spreading through her as it surges forth
Longing to lay within his arms her head upon his shoulder
falling asleep after the throes of their intense passions
feeling safe and secure from any lurking danger
making love once more as the mornings first light appears
To hear him whisper sweetly within her delighted ear
I love you only my beloved wife!
most of all she longed to present to her one true love
the son that she bore him while he was so far away at sea
It was a chance encounter
upon a warm Sunday afternoon
with a raven haired goddess
whose smile so warm and bright
made my heart go pitter pat
the ripening curves of her womanly figure
so voluptuous and curvaceous
they made the fullness of my maleness
harden like a rock and begin to throb
with the desire to taste
the sweetness of her slippery wetness
to plunge headlong into the depths
of the velvety sheath of her love canal
oh yes indeed it twas a chance encounter
with a raven haired goddess so lovely
who with a well aimed smile
set my heart afire and gave me hope
made me begin to long once again
for the tender touch of her fingertips
