Emily Windsor (Bonnie Apricot) is a beautiful, glamorous, alluring, seductive, lovely model (une belle mannequine erotique) and i hope she continues her modeling career!
She is the one, the only one, whom i adore.
I open my unveiling window for her to enter
to possess my frail body, to flow into my shallow soul,
to tenderly hold me, to breathe her kiss upon me,
to embrace my face like soft rain upon a lifeless lily.
She is the one, the only one, whom i love
queerly, sheerly, dearly to dress me as nearly as she
caressing my skinny femininity as if her fingers,
brushing across my little breasts, lingered in a kiss.
Then i rushing gaily as soft waves upon white sand
kissed belongingly her sweet, wet hand pale & slender
and gave her my love tenderly, my life endlessly surrendered.
In the wave of her hair gossamer, golden swirling upon her shoulder
i awakened from my loving dream still to see her hazel eyes ever-gleaming.
Amour Toujours,
Your willowy love-dove,
Dame Wilding
Dawn rose splendrously pink, then brightly apricot, & then tenderly hid behind a slender thread of blue-gray clouds. Your beautiful bewitching pictures and i, then, became two nymphs maidenlike frolicing capriciously & coquettishly in a meadow of wildflowers, our diaphanous chiffon & lace slip dresses revealing our ultra-thin curves, fair skin, the fragile bones beneath. Our eyes were filled with delight, gleaming in the morning light as the tall & delicate wildflowers still held the moonsent misty dew upon their blossoming corollas & within their little sepals. We danced gaily like a pair of bambi lesbiennes in our girly-girl love as if a camera moved us in slow motion to let us feel each & every motion & movement, each & every emotion & moment before Dawn came out from hiding, before the songbirds stopped singing, before the dew stopped softly clinging to the stems & the coronas of the wildflowers leaning & swaying in the morning's tender wind, blushing our whimsical cheeks, our delicate breasts revealed beneath our translucent slip dresses, a ribbon strap having fallen demurely, alluringly from each of our small-boned shoulders.
My lovely, loving vision disappeared as Dawn re-appeared and i flipped what was left of my "cig-fag" out into the cracked concrete of the street which runs along the mobile home park where i live. The songbirds had flown across the fallowed cornfield and high in the crown of a spectral tree was the only tiny nest nested in its bough. It had been there each and every season clinging to the noble branches as if defying the haunting gods, the perplexities & complexities of dreams and realness, of evil and goodness, of the untangible & the fleeting touch of tenderness, of truth, of love. I swept my hair overtop the front of my near-bare and effeminate right shoulder, cradled your alluring & seductive glossy photos more closely, more warmly to be flat chest, and casually, gaily floated back into my mobile home to pour a cup of coffee, turn on my laptop, and write this longing-to-belong-to-you love lettre for you, most beautiful, most bewitching Emily Bonnie.
Love always & forever,
Dove Willow/Dame Wilding
28 march 2019
Dearest Emily Windsor/Bonnie Apricot, willowy & winsome muse
of the wild-flowered meadow,
Gazing enrapturedly at your beautiful & bewitching photosensual pictures i instantly wet like the fairy-femme, girly-girl bambi-lesbienne i truthfully am emotionally and psychologically (if not, unfortunately, female physically and biologically -- although sometimes i feel i am an hermaphrodite). Without touching myself -- simply transfixed & seduced & entranced from your lovely face & fair-skinned, pointy little breasts & your ultra-thin hips with your bones & veins quite visible -- i drip softly upon my skinny thighs beneath my slip dress and long, black skirt and i am yours totally & eternally. I am your Penny Pan coquettish mermaid whom you have turned and transformed in "ta belle envoûtement douce et soie et affecteusement." When i warmly cuddle oh-so queerly next to your alluring & enwrapping pictures, then, tenderly and longingly kiss your sweet, glossy lips & tenderly eye-lashed eyes i softly wet bambi-lesbienne style. You possess me and i belong to you and i love it and you!
Yesterday, after finding your beautiful, bewitching, alluring, & seducing new photo-sensual pictures at "kitty-kats," i was in extreme and excited ecstasy: a magical crescendo of wondrous bliss as if your sweet lips were actually kissing mine. I was on "cloud 27!" I wiggled my small-boned, effeminate shoulders forth & back. I gaily shook my 'bootie' as if i were sashaying along a fashion runway or courageously along a nature trail cradling your ultra-slender, seductive photos in my belonging, slender arms. My brown eyes gleamed like frosted autumn leaves, transfixed in your beauty, your scintillating & titillating entrancing & enveloping enchantment. I am sooo enamoured and in love with you that i know i now emulate and mirror the way you pose, the way you move, the way you dress: i am your playmate, your soulmate, your dressmate. Dearest Emily Bonnie -- my Magdalene, Aphroditё, Pandora, Sappho -- you do possess me totally upon me & within me. I desire your possession. I need it! I want it! Let it, please, to be your obsession to draw me into your ethereal & bewitching embrace as i softly kiss your laminated photosensual pictures and tenderly wet, dripping droplets upon my skinny thighs enwrapped in bambi lesbienne love.
I adore you and i long for you as if your beautiful visage & vision were on one side of window-glass and i were on the other side. Our fingerprints touch, the prints of our kissing lips imprint softly upon the glass. Then, magically, gracefully the glass turns to water and we are swimming & flowing together, immersed in a special kind of ethereal enchantment: like naiad & fairy, siren & mermaid, two enlocked nymphs absorbing our oneness & being absorbed by the water fluid & warm & in our weightless lightness of selves, one in two & 2 in 1.
Now, today, my ecstasy has become a softer diminuendo for last night i laid beside your photosensual seduction & beauty, cuddled queerly, warmly, pan-
sexually tenderly, kissing you where you beckoned to be kissed. The feeling was beyond ecstasy, beyond the sweetest bliss, more succulent than apple cider, more nourishing than the sweetest honey. And so, after finally awakening from dreamy gaiety & tender enrapture, my ecstasy still flows like fingers upon piano keys but softer, a diminuendo crescendo mimed in your rhythm & rhyme. Today, i rest on "cloud 23" more submissive but no less coquettish, entranced & enlocked & enwrapped in your demure & revealing photosensuality. Your purely alluring pictures are tenderly secure in my slender, effeminate right arm cradled next to my low-cut slipdressed breast which i wish looked more like your lovely breasts. But enwrapt in my daydreaming visions, perhaps, i shall be a femme, your maiden demoiselle "ensorcellé dedans ta belle envoûtement séduisante & ta belle corps élancée éspèrer que tu retourneras à moi dans mes rêves."
I returned again to the "kitty-kat" website to gaze with belonging adoration at your 'Blue Fur' photoset. Dearest Bonnie, you are the most beautiful, most bewitching, tenderest temptress & your enchantment & alluring sensuality has entwined & enlaced me in your gossamer-thin web of your delightful, ethereal possession as if i were your Tinkerbell held softly in the palm of your delicate hand: loving & lovely Pandora of Fine Art Glamour & life-giving photosensuality. I am yours, wondrous & beautiful Emily Windsor/Bonnie Apricot.
love always, your love-dove,
Willow Wilding, 2 Ap/ril 2019
Dearest loveliest, most alluring Emily Windsor/Bonnie Apricot, to whom i belong,
You lead me. I kiss thee. You enlace me. I kiss thee. You show me. I kiss thee. You beckon me. I kiss thee. You photosensually entrance me in the beautiful, bewitching, alluring, soft self-caress of your ultra-skinny & lovely body you so evocatively & transcendingly reveal in your fine-art glamour modeling & poses. Now, when i awaken to put on my very short-cropped, unzipped sweater to gaily draw it open to the very edges of my small-boned, knobby shoulders, then brush my hair overtop the front of my right, effeminate shoulder (sometimes i tie my hair into a pony tail so that it will later curl) i am already seduced & transfixed in "ta photosensualité éthérée & érotique" which you have woven so softly & coquettishly delightfully upon me. I tenderly gather your photos in my slender, transqueer arms, your ultra-thin & sheer beauty having transformed me into your færie-femme girly-girl bambi lesbienne, then, float gaily and capriciously into my kitchen to brew our coffee and light a cig-fag to share with you.
With your beautiful & bewitching pictures cradled in my left arm, you have made me yours. I love you totally femininely & truthfully eternally. Je suis la tienne! Is it all pretend? Is it make-believe? I have always been a "Peter Pan-like" person, although i have changed her gender & name to Penny Pan. I have always believed in fairies & angels & ghosts & witches and their magical abilities to transform, to re-make, to re-shape, to compelle, to allure, to enchant, to turn as they spin & weave their love & beauty & gracefulness upon a person who asks. And somehow & in some way i have been blessed magically & ethereally & gracefully with the photosensual images of you, dearest Emily Windsor/Bonnie Apricot, Love of my life. You are the Muse of my longing dreams, the fine art Model with creamy skin & ultra-thin body features which i adore and try to emulate.
In your beautiful & bewitching, sensual & seductive three photosets for TYM (photographed so professionally and provocatively by John Emslie) which i have seen thankfully at kitty-kats.net, i gaze belongingly as you pose in your very skinny & alluring way, moving your French-cut fingernails from your little, beautiful breasts to your openly seducing nest to your glossy, rosy lips. Ohhh, how i beg and wish and long that i could kiss with your self-same tenderness & softness your delicate & fragile fingers, to french-kiss them ohhh-soo lovingly.
I adore you, Emily Bonnie. You are the goddess-muse of my yearning dreams. You are the fine-art glamour model who be-dazzles me & bewitches me with a special kind of sexuality which you possess & embrace in your solo-ness, softness & self-caressing blissfulness. Now and forever i belong to you: your captivated poetess, your loving bambi lesbienne-like transqueer femme, your ultra-feminine girly-girl fairy-maiden coquette. You have enveloped & enlaced me in your caressing & alluring photosensuality with a kind of impressed and tender enchantment which you alone possess & convey. It is soul-rendering that i give my whole being to you and for you. I would be your barbiedoll or the camisole which you wear so seductively sensual. Your little alluring breasts breath within it so that its thin ribbonlike shoulder straps fall softly from your "belles épaules maigres et élancées et rougé la couleur de la belle abricot fleur quel couvre ta totale et belle corps dans sa douceur crémeuse et ivoire."
If i could kiss tenderly but once your sweet, soft & seducing lips, your alluring & bewitching & enlacing pastel-pink rosettish nipples which you bare in their beautiful fair aurora, then, my worthless life would be fulfilled and given that special kind of soft feminine love i have never known. In your coquettish & delightful & photosensual & free-spirited "images érotiques & séduisantes" i see that kind of solo-made love & allure & caress which you have shown in those 3 wondrous & magical, bewitching & beautiful TYM photosets "natural," "blue" & "summer." I am forever for you and in a mirrored way i am of you always. Dear tender & ethereal Emily Bonnie, you have charmed me & entranced me & warmly embraced me so gaily with your hazel-colored eyes & delicate body so very ultra-thinly lithe, that one could call you 'la belle muse nommé Blithe.'
love always, constantly & forever,
Your willowy love-dove, Dame Wilding
Dearest Bonnie Emily Antoinette: the fine art glamour model i love & adore,
In the schemes of my nightmares which are chaotic, frightening & bizarre, i wish that you were with me to walk alongside me. In my beautiful & wondrous dreams you are there & i gaze at you with delight & relief & total affectionate love. You look into my eyes & you touch me softly & i am yours instantly & always. I adore the form of your face. I adore the shape of your body. I adore the way in which you pose so coquettishly & so revealingly showing the fine lines & slender curves of your creamy-skinned entrancing beauty.
My hideous nightmares are numerous. Sometimes, i suddenly must awaken as i am about to be physically abused, my arms & hands tied down somehow. My lovely dreams are too infrequent but when i do i dream of you and i awaken so totally gay and happy that i softly and carefully gather your pictures in my effeminate transqueer arms to nearly float from room to room in my humble little mobile home.
So i turn to fantasy to day-dream of you and return often to a certain special website of feline-like fine art glamour to gaze enraptly at your seducing photosensuality & alluring ultra-thin body. Your graceful beauty titillates my nipples so i dress ultra-femininely as if i were your girly-girl demoiselle, your fairy-femme hermaphrodite. I have no sexuality although when i gaze at your provocative & emotive pictures or cuddle next to your photographs which i have saved and printed, i wet as your bambi lesbienne as your self-pleasuring sexuality envelops me, enlaces me, enchants me truly.
Without touching it happens nearly instantaneously as i gaze at your fanciful fine art & gorgeous glamour art photos. Even when i write these candid and longing love lettres to you and of you and for you, i softly drip. I am hopelessly devoted and in love with you (as Olivia Newton-John would sing back in the 1990s. I am yours, dearest Bonnie Emily Antoinette, totally and everlastingly & eternally although i am much too hopeless, much too bold as i wither and yearn & fade. Your beauty & your charm compel me to wax but the forces of reality & the hateful, scary nightmares which consume me make me wane & make me believe that we shall never be together, never fated to dance flowing gaily in the wind. So, instead of gay and delightful reverie and rhapsody, in this love lettre it is more like Linda Ronstadt singing "Poor, poor pitiful me." Oh well, "la-di-da, la-di-da," as Diane Keaton whimsically said in the film "Annie."
I sincerely apologize for writing such a downer of a love lettre to you, dearest most beautiful & most alluring Bonnie Emily Antoinette. For yesterday, i just discovered a new photograph of you and my elation was so wondrously blissful even in the daily pain of my injury which has left my bladder to be non-functional i was fluttering about and happily wiggling my effeminate shoulders so very proud and gay that i found one of your "lost" photographs. (The good photographer was Gordon Thomas.) But i do endure: thanks to the doctors and nurses, my brother and sister and two great & honorable friends, the glamorous & gifted actresses & authoresses of the bygone days, the fashion models for whom i love and of whom have my complete devotion, & you, Bonnie Emily Antoinette who is the sweetest, most beautiful, most bewitching, most enlacing, most entrancing 'princess of the goddesses & muses' whose ethereal caress & diaphanous dress enwrapts & enwraps me 'dans solo amour seulement pour toi' & the only one i will ever love always & eternally, constantly & forever. I wish there were some kind of "cosmic telephone" so that i could call you to softly and sincerely tell you how much i am in love with you. I think my love lettres fall far too short like a little sparrow with a broken wing who doesn't quite make it back to her nest but rests in sorrow much too long and then gets lost in a storm which bewilders her. ...
... I am a nearly broke poetess with a nearly broken spirit. I write but why do it publicly at websites like Tumblr and DeviantArt and, soon, at Watpad. Nobody seems to read my stories. 99% of them have 0 notes beneath them. People speed on trying to race Time, i guess. But i write my dreaming, longing love lettres to you anyway. There must be a record that i did something worthwhile, that my love for you was and is & always will be true and tender. At the end, whenever that happens, maybe five or ten years from now, i know i will be thinking of you, daydreaming of you, envisioning you with total and tender affection and love and adoration. It is truthfully completely feminine. It is totally soft and shameless (as are you). It is capricious and coquettish for i am a diaphanous and androgynous fairy-femme transqueer: fluid of gender, flowing in your tender & emotive poses, your demoiselle dévotée dancing in a meadow of wildflowers with you as our form-fitting mini-slipdresses billow in the wind or, perhaps, weaving circles & pirouettes wearing the same willowy mini-slipdresses in the hallways of the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art.:)))))
my undying love, Dove Willow
21 Ap/ril 2019, Easter Sunday
She isn't "retired". In fact she seemed fairly active on TYM with several sets out in 2023. https://www.thisyearsmodel.com/model/bonnie-apricot
Of course the sets might be very old and she probably actually is retired LOL
Comments
Emily Windsor (Bonnie Apricot) is a beautiful, glamorous, alluring, seductive, lovely model (une belle mannequine erotique) and i hope she continues her modeling career!
She is the one, the only one, whom i adore.
I open my unveiling window for her to enter
to possess my frail body, to flow into my shallow soul,
to tenderly hold me, to breathe her kiss upon me,
to embrace my face like soft rain upon a lifeless lily.
She is the one, the only one, whom i love
queerly, sheerly, dearly to dress me as nearly as she
caressing my skinny femininity as if her fingers,
brushing across my little breasts, lingered in a kiss.
Then i rushing gaily as soft waves upon white sand
kissed belongingly her sweet, wet hand pale & slender
and gave her my love tenderly, my life endlessly surrendered.
In the wave of her hair gossamer, golden swirling upon her shoulder
i awakened from my loving dream still to see her hazel eyes ever-gleaming.
Love Lettre #42
Dawn rose splendrously pink, then brightly apricot, & then tenderly hid behind a slender thread of blue-gray clouds. Your beautiful bewitching pictures and i, then, became two nymphs maidenlike frolicing capriciously & coquettishly in a meadow of wildflowers, our diaphanous chiffon & lace slip dresses revealing our ultra-thin curves, fair skin, the fragile bones beneath. Our eyes were filled with delight, gleaming in the morning light as the tall & delicate wildflowers still held the moonsent misty dew upon their blossoming corollas & within their little sepals. We danced gaily like a pair of bambi lesbiennes in our girly-girl love as if a camera moved us in slow motion to let us feel each & every motion & movement, each & every emotion & moment before Dawn came out from hiding, before the songbirds stopped singing, before the dew stopped softly clinging to the stems & the coronas of the wildflowers leaning & swaying in the morning's tender wind, blushing our whimsical cheeks, our delicate breasts revealed beneath our translucent slip dresses, a ribbon strap having fallen demurely, alluringly from each of our small-boned shoulders.
My lovely, loving vision disappeared as Dawn re-appeared and i flipped what was left of my "cig-fag" out into the cracked concrete of the street which runs along the mobile home park where i live. The songbirds had flown across the fallowed cornfield and high in the crown of a spectral tree was the only tiny nest nested in its bough. It had been there each and every season clinging to the noble branches as if defying the haunting gods, the perplexities & complexities of dreams and realness, of evil and goodness, of the untangible & the fleeting touch of tenderness, of truth, of love. I swept my hair overtop the front of my near-bare and effeminate right shoulder, cradled your alluring & seductive glossy photos more closely, more warmly to be flat chest, and casually, gaily floated back into my mobile home to pour a cup of coffee, turn on my laptop, and write this longing-to-belong-to-you love lettre for you, most beautiful, most bewitching Emily Bonnie.
Gazing enrapturedly at your beautiful & bewitching photosensual pictures i instantly wet like the fairy-femme, girly-girl bambi-lesbienne i truthfully am emotionally and psychologically (if not, unfortunately, female physically and biologically -- although sometimes i feel i am an hermaphrodite). Without touching myself -- simply transfixed & seduced & entranced from your lovely face & fair-skinned, pointy little breasts & your ultra-thin hips with your bones & veins quite visible -- i drip softly upon my skinny thighs beneath my slip dress and long, black skirt and i am yours totally & eternally. I am your Penny Pan coquettish mermaid whom you have turned and transformed in "ta belle envoûtement douce et soie et affecteusement." When i warmly cuddle oh-so queerly next to your alluring & enwrapping pictures, then, tenderly and longingly kiss your sweet, glossy lips & tenderly eye-lashed eyes i softly wet bambi-lesbienne style. You possess me and i belong to you and i love it and you!
Yesterday, after finding your beautiful, bewitching, alluring, & seducing new photo-sensual pictures at "kitty-kats," i was in extreme and excited ecstasy: a magical crescendo of wondrous bliss as if your sweet lips were actually kissing mine. I was on "cloud 27!" I wiggled my small-boned, effeminate shoulders forth & back. I gaily shook my 'bootie' as if i were sashaying along a fashion runway or courageously along a nature trail cradling your ultra-slender, seductive photos in my belonging, slender arms. My brown eyes gleamed like frosted autumn leaves, transfixed in your beauty, your scintillating & titillating entrancing & enveloping enchantment. I am sooo enamoured and in love with you that i know i now emulate and mirror the way you pose, the way you move, the way you dress: i am your playmate, your soulmate, your dressmate. Dearest Emily Bonnie -- my Magdalene, Aphroditё, Pandora, Sappho -- you do possess me totally upon me & within me. I desire your possession. I need it! I want it! Let it, please, to be your obsession to draw me into your ethereal & bewitching embrace as i softly kiss your laminated photosensual pictures and tenderly wet, dripping droplets upon my skinny thighs enwrapped in bambi lesbienne love.
I adore you and i long for you as if your beautiful visage & vision were on one side of window-glass and i were on the other side. Our fingerprints touch, the prints of our kissing lips imprint softly upon the glass. Then, magically, gracefully the glass turns to water and we are swimming & flowing together, immersed in a special kind of ethereal enchantment: like naiad & fairy, siren & mermaid, two enlocked nymphs absorbing our oneness & being absorbed by the water fluid & warm & in our weightless lightness of selves, one in two & 2 in 1.
Now, today, my ecstasy has become a softer diminuendo for last night i laid beside your photosensual seduction & beauty, cuddled queerly, warmly, pan-
sexually tenderly, kissing you where you beckoned to be kissed. The feeling was beyond ecstasy, beyond the sweetest bliss, more succulent than apple cider, more nourishing than the sweetest honey. And so, after finally awakening from dreamy gaiety & tender enrapture, my ecstasy still flows like fingers upon piano keys but softer, a diminuendo crescendo mimed in your rhythm & rhyme. Today, i rest on "cloud 23" more submissive but no less coquettish, entranced & enlocked & enwrapped in your demure & revealing photosensuality. Your purely alluring pictures are tenderly secure in my slender, effeminate right arm cradled next to my low-cut slipdressed breast which i wish looked more like your lovely breasts. But enwrapt in my daydreaming visions, perhaps, i shall be a femme, your maiden demoiselle "ensorcellé dedans ta belle envoûtement séduisante & ta belle corps élancée éspèrer que tu retourneras à moi dans mes rêves."
I returned again to the "kitty-kat" website to gaze with belonging adoration at your 'Blue Fur' photoset. Dearest Bonnie, you are the most beautiful, most bewitching, tenderest temptress & your enchantment & alluring sensuality has entwined & enlaced me in your gossamer-thin web of your delightful, ethereal possession as if i were your Tinkerbell held softly in the palm of your delicate hand: loving & lovely Pandora of Fine Art Glamour & life-giving photosensuality. I am yours, wondrous & beautiful Emily Windsor/Bonnie Apricot.
See her also at http://www.kitty-kats.net/threads/bonnie-apricot
You lead me. I kiss thee. You enlace me. I kiss thee. You show me. I kiss thee. You beckon me. I kiss thee. You photosensually entrance me in the beautiful, bewitching, alluring, soft self-caress of your ultra-skinny & lovely body you so evocatively & transcendingly reveal in your fine-art glamour modeling & poses. Now, when i awaken to put on my very short-cropped, unzipped sweater to gaily draw it open to the very edges of my small-boned, knobby shoulders, then brush my hair overtop the front of my right, effeminate shoulder (sometimes i tie my hair into a pony tail so that it will later curl) i am already seduced & transfixed in "ta photosensualité éthérée & érotique" which you have woven so softly & coquettishly delightfully upon me. I tenderly gather your photos in my slender, transqueer arms, your ultra-thin & sheer beauty having transformed me into your færie-femme girly-girl bambi lesbienne, then, float gaily and capriciously into my kitchen to brew our coffee and light a cig-fag to share with you.
With your beautiful & bewitching pictures cradled in my left arm, you have made me yours. I love you totally femininely & truthfully eternally. Je suis la tienne! Is it all pretend? Is it make-believe? I have always been a "Peter Pan-like" person, although i have changed her gender & name to Penny Pan. I have always believed in fairies & angels & ghosts & witches and their magical abilities to transform, to re-make, to re-shape, to compelle, to allure, to enchant, to turn as they spin & weave their love & beauty & gracefulness upon a person who asks. And somehow & in some way i have been blessed magically & ethereally & gracefully with the photosensual images of you, dearest Emily Windsor/Bonnie Apricot, Love of my life. You are the Muse of my longing dreams, the fine art Model with creamy skin & ultra-thin body features which i adore and try to emulate.
In your beautiful & bewitching, sensual & seductive three photosets for TYM (photographed so professionally and provocatively by John Emslie) which i have seen thankfully at kitty-kats.net, i gaze belongingly as you pose in your very skinny & alluring way, moving your French-cut fingernails from your little, beautiful breasts to your openly seducing nest to your glossy, rosy lips. Ohhh, how i beg and wish and long that i could kiss with your self-same tenderness & softness your delicate & fragile fingers, to french-kiss them ohhh-soo lovingly.
I adore you, Emily Bonnie. You are the goddess-muse of my yearning dreams. You are the fine-art glamour model who be-dazzles me & bewitches me with a special kind of sexuality which you possess & embrace in your solo-ness, softness & self-caressing blissfulness. Now and forever i belong to you: your captivated poetess, your loving bambi lesbienne-like transqueer femme, your ultra-feminine girly-girl fairy-maiden coquette. You have enveloped & enlaced me in your caressing & alluring photosensuality with a kind of impressed and tender enchantment which you alone possess & convey. It is soul-rendering that i give my whole being to you and for you. I would be your barbiedoll or the camisole which you wear so seductively sensual. Your little alluring breasts breath within it so that its thin ribbonlike shoulder straps fall softly from your "belles épaules maigres et élancées et rougé la couleur de la belle abricot fleur quel couvre ta totale et belle corps dans sa douceur crémeuse et ivoire."
If i could kiss tenderly but once your sweet, soft & seducing lips, your alluring & bewitching & enlacing pastel-pink rosettish nipples which you bare in their beautiful fair aurora, then, my worthless life would be fulfilled and given that special kind of soft feminine love i have never known. In your coquettish & delightful & photosensual & free-spirited "images érotiques & séduisantes" i see that kind of solo-made love & allure & caress which you have shown in those 3 wondrous & magical, bewitching & beautiful TYM photosets "natural," "blue" & "summer." I am forever for you and in a mirrored way i am of you always. Dear tender & ethereal Emily Bonnie, you have charmed me & entranced me & warmly embraced me so gaily with your hazel-colored eyes & delicate body so very ultra-thinly lithe, that one could call you 'la belle muse nommé Blithe.'
Dearest Bonnie Emily Antoinette: the fine art glamour model i love & adore,
... I am a nearly broke poetess with a nearly broken spirit. I write but why do it publicly at websites like Tumblr and DeviantArt and, soon, at Watpad. Nobody seems to read my stories. 99% of them have 0 notes beneath them. People speed on trying to race Time, i guess. But i write my dreaming, longing love lettres to you anyway. There must be a record that i did something worthwhile, that my love for you was and is & always will be true and tender. At the end, whenever that happens, maybe five or ten years from now, i know i will be thinking of you, daydreaming of you, envisioning you with total and tender affection and love and adoration. It is truthfully completely feminine. It is totally soft and shameless (as are you). It is capricious and coquettish for i am a diaphanous and androgynous fairy-femme transqueer: fluid of gender, flowing in your tender & emotive poses, your demoiselle dévotée dancing in a meadow of wildflowers with you as our form-fitting mini-slipdresses billow in the wind or, perhaps, weaving circles & pirouettes wearing the same willowy mini-slipdresses in the hallways of the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art.:)))))
She isn't "retired". In fact she seemed fairly active on TYM with several sets out in 2023. https://www.thisyearsmodel.com/model/bonnie-apricot
Of course the sets might be very old and she probably actually is retired LOL