Podcasts about Bolex

The Cinematography Podcast Episode 308: Jessica Lee Gagné Cinematographer Jessica Lee Gagné is an essential creative force behind Severance on Apple TV+. She has an expanded role in the show's second season with a producer credit and directs the pivotal episode 207, “Chikhai Bardo.” The series' unique look and world-building is meticulously crafted through extensive testing and close collaboration between her and showrunner Ben Stiller, who also directs the majority of episodes. For Severance Season 2, Jessica embraced a darker aesthetic, intentionally tweaking the look from the previous season. Even within the artificial office environment of Lumon, she pursues a blend of natural realism and heightened visuals, favoring practical, in-camera effects whenever possible. Location shooting for the episodes “Woe's Hollow” and “Sweet Vitriol” required flexibility due to changing weather conditions. Unexpected foggy weather worked in the crew's favor while shooting “Woe's Hollow” and enhanced the spooky atmosphere of Irving's nightmare sequence. Inside the Lumon offices, lighting is pre-planned as part of the production design, with lights built into the ceiling and the set. Season 2 introduces more complex and colorful lighting cues compared to the first season, especially in the finale. Vibrant green and blue lighting creates a feeling of chaos during the “Choreography and Merriment” marching band performance, and intense red emergency lighting strobes down the halls as Mark and Helly attempt their escape. “Red is a color that we don't use in the show in general,” notes Jessica. “You have this association with love, passion, intensity with the color red. And then in the final shot, we land in this deep red moment with them, that was transferred onto film in the end and rescanned to give it an actual authentic feel.” Jessica decided she wanted to direct for the first time on season two, despite feeling nervous about it. She chose episode 207 “Chikhai Bardo,” which explores Gemma and Mark's past and depicts how Gemma is tormented at Lumon in different severed tests. “This was something that I really deeply wanted,” she explains. “I realized that on this show with the crew that knew me, the cast that knew me, with Ben (Stiller) supporting me and the producers as well, that this opportunity would never come up for me again in my life. I really needed to just go for it and give it my all.” Jessica also was director of photography for the episode, since she felt so familiar with creating the show's look. However, the dual role was challenging. “That was harder,” she admits. “And then working with myself was weird. I realized on set that everything was going so fast.” There was no pausing for a separate director-cinematographer discussion after takes, which meant turning to others for validation and support. Directing the cast was a rewarding experience and they welcomed her leadership. Jessica had extensive conversations with actress Dichen Lachman (Gemma) beforehand to explore her character's emotional state and shifting personalities within the episode. A significant element of episode 207's visual language involves sequences depicting Mark and Gemma's past, which were captured on film. While Severance primarily uses digital cameras, Jessica opted for both 35mm and 16mm film for the flashback moments. Borrowing a Bolex camera from the gaffer, she and director Ben Stiller shot some of these intimate sequences between Mark and Gemma on the fly. Jessica is currently in the process of directing her first feature. She will always have a deep appreciation for cinematography. “I feel like I have so much respect for that craft," she says. "After being in it for 15 years, I know what goes into it. I know how you have to be such a giving person to do that. And I really do love it so much.” You can see Severance on Apple TV+ Hear our previous interview with Jessica Lee Gagné about Severance Season 1.

En parcourant l'histoire du nord-vaudois, c'est toute la mécanique de la crise industrielle qu'on découvre. Alors qu'une exposition consacrée à cette rupture s'apprête à ouvrir ses portes au musée d'Yverdon, Histoire Vivante est allée à la rencontre d'un historien qui l'a vécue de l'intérieur : Laurent Tissot a fait son mémoire de doctorat sur l'entreprise Paillard, qui, entre 1814 à 1989, a produit les objets phare du XXème siècle, de l'horlogerie aux machines à écrire Hermès Baby en passant par les gramophones, les premières radios et la mythique caméra Bolex. Laurent Tissot, auteur de E.Paillard & Cie, société anonyme. Une entreprise vaudoise de petite mécanique (Editions Delvak, 1987).

In this week's episode of Visual Intonation, we dive into the world of Christopher Emanuel Smith, a filmmaker whose journey from Florida to the bright lights of New York City is as compelling as the stories he tells. A former Floridian with a knack for avoiding "Florida Man" infamy, Christopher swapped gators for a camera and pursued an MFA from NYU Tisch. With a career that blends screenwriting, directing, and videography, he has earned his place in the industry, crafting visuals that captivate and stories that resonate. His current gig as a Senior Director at Condé Nast Entertainment has only sharpened his unique cinematic voice, a voice that has already captured the attention of major publications like Vanity Fair and GQ.  But Christopher isn't just a director; he's a storyteller at heart. His goal? To create coming-of-age narratives that seamlessly weave together comedy and drama, stories that capture the awkwardness, beauty, and struggle of growing up. From his work on music videos and documentaries to his upcoming episodic series, Christopher's ability to blend humor with heartfelt moments places him in a class of his own. The silent storytelling technique he mastered with a 16mm Bolex camera continues to inform his work today, ensuring that every frame he shoots is packed with meaning.  We also explore Christopher's ideal projects—shows like 'Atlanta' and 'Dave', which mix razor-sharp wit with emotional depth, and action-comedy films like 'Tropic Thunder', where humor and adventure collide. His blend of sharp social commentary and visual storytelling makes him a standout in an industry often overcrowded with cookie-cutter projects. Whether it's through the lens of a camera or the page of a script, Christopher remains steadfast in his mission to tell stories that matter, stories that go beyond the bizarre encounters of a life lived in Florida.  Don't miss this episode of Visual Intonation, where we talk about Christopher's experiences, creative processes, and his exciting future projects. We'll also discuss his latest short film, 'Male Pattern Boredness', which follows a self-sabotaging musician on a hilariously rocky path toward self-discovery. Tune in to hear how one filmmaker is pushing boundaries and creating headlines that don't involve any alligators. Christopher Emanuel Smith's Website: https://www.culturewax.com/Christopher Emanuel Smith's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/c.emanuelsmith/?hl=enChristopher Emanuel Smith's Coverfly: https://writers.coverfly.com/profile/writer-541ab3bff-195734Support the showVisual Intonation Website: https://www.visualintonations.com/Visual Intonation Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/visualintonation/Vante Gregory's Website: vantegregory.comVante Gregory's Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/directedbyvante/ To support me on Patreon (thank you): patreon.com/visualintonations Tiktok: www.tiktok.com/@visualintonation Tiktok: www.tiktok.com/@directedbyvante

In the stillness of a serene morning, the light of inspiration dawns upon us as we venture into the depths of human creativity and perseverance. On today's episode, we welcome the visionary documentarian Susan Kucera, whose lens captures the intricate dance of life and the profound undercurrents of our existence.Susan Kucera, a remarkable filmmaker, began her journey at a tender age, filming alongside her geologist father. From her early experiments with a Bolex camera on the Athabaskan glacier to her latest cinematic endeavors, Susan's path has been one of relentless curiosity and artistic passion. In our conversation, she reveals the essence of her craft, the challenges she faced, and the evolution of her storytelling.Susan's latest documentary, "Living in the Future's Past," starring the legendary Jeff Bridges, is a masterful exploration of humanity's journey through the lens of ecology, energy, and evolution. As Susan describes, "We wanted to look at the whole human meta-story where we've been, where we are, where we're going." This film transcends traditional narratives, weaving together science, philosophy, and poetry to offer a holistic view of our place in the world.In the making of this film, Susan collaborated closely with Jeff Bridges, who not only narrated but also appeared on screen, adding depth and authenticity to the narrative.Their partnership was serendipitous, sparked by a mutual interest in exploring the deeper questions of existence. "Jeff watched another film that I had done called 'Breath of Life,' and he liked it," Susan recalls. This connection set the stage for a fruitful collaboration that would culminate in a thought-provoking documentary.Susan's approach to filmmaking is deeply organic, a testament to her years of experience and intuitive understanding of her subjects. She often works alone, capturing spontaneous moments that a large crew might miss. This method allows her to infuse her films with a sense of immediacy and authenticity. "It's like capturing things that only exist in a split second and aren't there again," she says, reflecting on the fleeting beauty of her subjects.One of the most compelling aspects of Susan's work is her ability to intertwine art and science. Her films are not just documentaries; they are cinematic poems that challenge viewers to see the world through a different lens. As she puts it, "It's not so much what we're thinking about the world we live in; it's how we're thinking about the world we live in." This shift in perspective is at the heart of her storytelling, encouraging audiences to question, reflect, and ultimately, understand their own roles in the grand tapestry of life.In our discussion, Susan also delves into the practical aspects of documentary filmmaking, from the technical challenges of shooting with a RED Epic W camera to the intricate process of editing. Her insights are invaluable for aspiring filmmakers, offering a glimpse into the meticulous and often arduous journey of bringing a documentary to life. She emphasizes the importance of being hands-on, of knowing one's material intimately, and of being open to the unexpected twists and turns of the creative process.Enjoy my conversation with Susan Kucera.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/bulletproof-screenwriting-podcast--2881148/support.

Two pedestrians collide fatefully. by maxicue. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo. This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful. “Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways. He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open. “I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added. “Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders. “Hungry?” he asked. “I could eat,” she half smiled. He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her. “I'm Joe,” he told her. “Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich. They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it. “Anything else?” he asked. “Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.” “Okay if we share?” he asked. “That's fine.” “Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?” Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.” “Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.” “Okay.” They stayed, talking over the small empty plate. “Where are you from?” he asked. “The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.” “No shit! Me too!” “No shit!” “No shit. Where?” “Robbinsdale.” “Golden Valley.” “No shit?” “No shit.” The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type. Fate. “You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck. “I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.” “Presently,” she giggled. “Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.” “No, it's cute.” “Glad you think so,” he chuckled. “How's the job search going?” she asked. “Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.” “From what?” she asked. “I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.” “No shit!” “No shit.” “Why not stay there?” “I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm. Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead. “It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her. “Cool.” “Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.” “Is that cool?” she asked. “Pretty cool,” he chuckled. When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.” “You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him. “Um…you sure?” “I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again. “I can get something on the way,” he decided. “Great!” Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms. His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought. Both were blushing while he made the purchase. They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's. “Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob. “No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.” “Jenny?” “Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled. “Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her. For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls. He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away. She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman. “Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition. “Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.” “Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled. He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.” “You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled. “Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully. She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her. “Tell me,” he said. “You don't want to fuck me?” “Of course I do. Tell me.” She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated. “I…had to,” she choked out. “Had to?” “Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away. “It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back. “I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.” “Best to know I guess,” Joe tried. “It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.” “From?” “Everything!” “Including?” “My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…” “Did he…?” “No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him. “I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.” “Sorry,” Joe apologized. “I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled. “But…it doesn't sound like sex…” Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.” “But you don't know me.” “Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt. He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt. “Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled. He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth. Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned. Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there. “Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches. “I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Too much?” he asked reluctantly. “Don't you fucking stop!” she declared. He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her. “Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis. Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way. He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples. She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming. “Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest. “Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs. “Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm. “It'll be better next time,” he promised. She chuckled weakly. “What?” he asked. She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his. “That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained. “I thought it was making love,” he argued. “Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him. “Pedantic?” “You know what I mean.” “Of course, but…” “I'm smarter than I look.” “I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.” “I've met several, and not all blondes.” “School?” “And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.” “Makes sense. So school…?” “I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.” “GED?” he asked. “Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?” “School?” “Yeah.” “I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.” “You're a poet?” “Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.” “Thieves?” “The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.” He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area. “Are those…?” “Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.” “When was that?” “A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.” “Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors. Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip. He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position. After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did. “Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after. “Yeah,” Joe agreed. She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest. “Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly. “As long as you want.” “Thanks.” by maxicue for Literotica. This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica. Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series

Two pedestrians collide fatefully. by maxicue. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo. This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful. “Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways. He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open. “I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added. “Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders. “Hungry?” he asked. “I could eat,” she half smiled. He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her. “I'm Joe,” he told her. “Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich. They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it. “Anything else?” he asked. “Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.” “Okay if we share?” he asked. “That's fine.” “Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?” Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.” “Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.” “Okay.” They stayed, talking over the small empty plate. “Where are you from?” he asked. “The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.” “No shit! Me too!” “No shit!” “No shit. Where?” “Robbinsdale.” “Golden Valley.” “No shit?” “No shit.” The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type. Fate. “You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck. “I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.” “Presently,” she giggled. “Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.” “No, it's cute.” “Glad you think so,” he chuckled. “How's the job search going?” she asked. “Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.” “From what?” she asked. “I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.” “No shit!” “No shit.” “Why not stay there?” “I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm. Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead. “It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her. “Cool.” “Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.” “Is that cool?” she asked. “Pretty cool,” he chuckled. When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.” “You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him. “Um…you sure?” “I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again. “I can get something on the way,” he decided. “Great!” Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms. His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought. Both were blushing while he made the purchase. They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's. “Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob. “No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.” “Jenny?” “Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled. “Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her. For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls. He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away. She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman. “Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition. “Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.” “Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled. He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.” “You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled. “Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully. She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her. “Tell me,” he said. “You don't want to fuck me?” “Of course I do. Tell me.” She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated. “I…had to,” she choked out. “Had to?” “Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away. “It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back. “I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.” “Best to know I guess,” Joe tried. “It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.” “From?” “Everything!” “Including?” “My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…” “Did he…?” “No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him. “I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.” “Sorry,” Joe apologized. “I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled. “But…it doesn't sound like sex…” Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.” “But you don't know me.” “Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt. He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt. “Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled. He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth. Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned. Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there. “Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches. “I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Too much?” he asked reluctantly. “Don't you fucking stop!” she declared. He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her. “Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis. Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way. He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples. She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming. “Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest. “Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs. “Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm. “It'll be better next time,” he promised. She chuckled weakly. “What?” he asked. She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his. “That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained. “I thought it was making love,” he argued. “Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him. “Pedantic?” “You know what I mean.” “Of course, but…” “I'm smarter than I look.” “I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.” “I've met several, and not all blondes.” “School?” “And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.” “Makes sense. So school…?” “I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.” “GED?” he asked. “Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?” “School?” “Yeah.” “I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.” “You're a poet?” “Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.” “Thieves?” “The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.” He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area. “Are those…?” “Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.” “When was that?” “A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.” “Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors. Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip. He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position. After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did. “Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after. “Yeah,” Joe agreed. She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest. “Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly. “As long as you want.” “Thanks.” by maxicue for Literotica. This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica. Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series

Two pedestrians collide fatefully. by maxicue. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo. This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful. “Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways. He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open. “I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added. “Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders. “Hungry?” he asked. “I could eat,” she half smiled. He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her. “I'm Joe,” he told her. “Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich. They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it. “Anything else?” he asked. “Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.” “Okay if we share?” he asked. “That's fine.” “Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?” Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.” “Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.” “Okay.” They stayed, talking over the small empty plate. “Where are you from?” he asked. “The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.” “No shit! Me too!” “No shit!” “No shit. Where?” “Robbinsdale.” “Golden Valley.” “No shit?” “No shit.” The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type. Fate. “You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck. “I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.” “Presently,” she giggled. “Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.” “No, it's cute.” “Glad you think so,” he chuckled. “How's the job search going?” she asked. “Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.” “From what?” she asked. “I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.” “No shit!” “No shit.” “Why not stay there?” “I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm. Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead. “It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her. “Cool.” “Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.” “Is that cool?” she asked. “Pretty cool,” he chuckled. When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.” “You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him. “Um…you sure?” “I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again. “I can get something on the way,” he decided. “Great!” Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms. His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought. Both were blushing while he made the purchase. They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's. “Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob. “No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.” “Jenny?” “Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled. “Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her. For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls. He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away. She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman. “Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition. “Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.” “Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled. He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.” “You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled. “Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully. She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her. “Tell me,” he said. “You don't want to fuck me?” “Of course I do. Tell me.” She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated. “I…had to,” she choked out. “Had to?” “Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away. “It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back. “I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.” “Best to know I guess,” Joe tried. “It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.” “From?” “Everything!” “Including?” “My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…” “Did he…?” “No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him. “I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.” “Sorry,” Joe apologized. “I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled. “But…it doesn't sound like sex…” Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.” “But you don't know me.” “Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt. He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt. “Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled. He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth. Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned. Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there. “Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches. “I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in. “Oh fuck!” she moaned. “Too much?” he asked reluctantly. “Don't you fucking stop!” she declared. He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her. “Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis. Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way. He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples. She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming. “Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest. “Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs. “Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm. “It'll be better next time,” he promised. She chuckled weakly. “What?” he asked. She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his. “That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained. “I thought it was making love,” he argued. “Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him. “Pedantic?” “You know what I mean.” “Of course, but…” “I'm smarter than I look.” “I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.” “I've met several, and not all blondes.” “School?” “And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.” “Makes sense. So school…?” “I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.” “GED?” he asked. “Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?” “School?” “Yeah.” “I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.” “You're a poet?” “Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.” “Thieves?” “The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.” He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area. “Are those…?” “Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.” “When was that?” “A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.” “Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors. Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip. He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position. After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did. “Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after. “Yeah,” Joe agreed. She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest. “Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly. “As long as you want.” “Thanks.” by maxicue for Literotica. This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica. Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series

The Bolex camera, 16mm reversal film stocks, commercial film laboratories, and low-budget optical printers were the small-gauge media technologies that provided the infrastructure for experimental filmmaking at the height of its cultural impact. Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture (Oxford University Press, 2023) by Dr. John Powers examines how the avant-garde embraced these material resources and invested them with meanings and values adjacent to those of semiprofessional film culture. By reasserting the physicality of the body in making time-lapse and kinesthetic sequences with the Bolex, filmmakers conversed with other art forms and integrated broader spheres of humanistic and scientific inquiry into their artistic process. Drawing from the photographic qualities of stocks such as Tri-X and Kodachrome, they discovered pliant metaphors that allowed them to connect their artistic practice to metaphysics, spiritualism, and Hollywood excess. By framing film labs as mystical or adversarial, they cultivated an oppositionality that valorized control over the artistic process. And by using the optical printer as a tool for excavating latent meaning out of found footage, they posited the reworking of images as fundamental to the exploration of personal and cultural identity. Providing a wealth of new detail about the making of canonised avant-garde classics by such luminaries as Carolee Schneemann, Jack Smith, and Stan Brakhage, as well as rediscovering works from overlooked artists such as Chick Strand, Amy Halpern, and Gunvor Nelson, Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture uses technology as a lens for examining the process of making: where ideas come from, how they are put into practice, and how arguments about those ideas foster cultural and artistic commitments and communities. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose new book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

The Bolex camera, 16mm reversal film stocks, commercial film laboratories, and low-budget optical printers were the small-gauge media technologies that provided the infrastructure for experimental filmmaking at the height of its cultural impact. Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture (Oxford University Press, 2023) by Dr. John Powers examines how the avant-garde embraced these material resources and invested them with meanings and values adjacent to those of semiprofessional film culture. By reasserting the physicality of the body in making time-lapse and kinesthetic sequences with the Bolex, filmmakers conversed with other art forms and integrated broader spheres of humanistic and scientific inquiry into their artistic process. Drawing from the photographic qualities of stocks such as Tri-X and Kodachrome, they discovered pliant metaphors that allowed them to connect their artistic practice to metaphysics, spiritualism, and Hollywood excess. By framing film labs as mystical or adversarial, they cultivated an oppositionality that valorized control over the artistic process. And by using the optical printer as a tool for excavating latent meaning out of found footage, they posited the reworking of images as fundamental to the exploration of personal and cultural identity. Providing a wealth of new detail about the making of canonised avant-garde classics by such luminaries as Carolee Schneemann, Jack Smith, and Stan Brakhage, as well as rediscovering works from overlooked artists such as Chick Strand, Amy Halpern, and Gunvor Nelson, Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture uses technology as a lens for examining the process of making: where ideas come from, how they are put into practice, and how arguments about those ideas foster cultural and artistic commitments and communities. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose new book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

The Bolex camera, 16mm reversal film stocks, commercial film laboratories, and low-budget optical printers were the small-gauge media technologies that provided the infrastructure for experimental filmmaking at the height of its cultural impact. Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture (Oxford University Press, 2023) by Dr. John Powers examines how the avant-garde embraced these material resources and invested them with meanings and values adjacent to those of semiprofessional film culture. By reasserting the physicality of the body in making time-lapse and kinesthetic sequences with the Bolex, filmmakers conversed with other art forms and integrated broader spheres of humanistic and scientific inquiry into their artistic process. Drawing from the photographic qualities of stocks such as Tri-X and Kodachrome, they discovered pliant metaphors that allowed them to connect their artistic practice to metaphysics, spiritualism, and Hollywood excess. By framing film labs as mystical or adversarial, they cultivated an oppositionality that valorized control over the artistic process. And by using the optical printer as a tool for excavating latent meaning out of found footage, they posited the reworking of images as fundamental to the exploration of personal and cultural identity. Providing a wealth of new detail about the making of canonised avant-garde classics by such luminaries as Carolee Schneemann, Jack Smith, and Stan Brakhage, as well as rediscovering works from overlooked artists such as Chick Strand, Amy Halpern, and Gunvor Nelson, Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture uses technology as a lens for examining the process of making: where ideas come from, how they are put into practice, and how arguments about those ideas foster cultural and artistic commitments and communities. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose new book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/film

The Bolex camera, 16mm reversal film stocks, commercial film laboratories, and low-budget optical printers were the small-gauge media technologies that provided the infrastructure for experimental filmmaking at the height of its cultural impact. Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture (Oxford University Press, 2023) by Dr. John Powers examines how the avant-garde embraced these material resources and invested them with meanings and values adjacent to those of semiprofessional film culture. By reasserting the physicality of the body in making time-lapse and kinesthetic sequences with the Bolex, filmmakers conversed with other art forms and integrated broader spheres of humanistic and scientific inquiry into their artistic process. Drawing from the photographic qualities of stocks such as Tri-X and Kodachrome, they discovered pliant metaphors that allowed them to connect their artistic practice to metaphysics, spiritualism, and Hollywood excess. By framing film labs as mystical or adversarial, they cultivated an oppositionality that valorized control over the artistic process. And by using the optical printer as a tool for excavating latent meaning out of found footage, they posited the reworking of images as fundamental to the exploration of personal and cultural identity. Providing a wealth of new detail about the making of canonised avant-garde classics by such luminaries as Carolee Schneemann, Jack Smith, and Stan Brakhage, as well as rediscovering works from overlooked artists such as Chick Strand, Amy Halpern, and Gunvor Nelson, Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture uses technology as a lens for examining the process of making: where ideas come from, how they are put into practice, and how arguments about those ideas foster cultural and artistic commitments and communities. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose new book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/science-technology-and-society

The Bolex camera, 16mm reversal film stocks, commercial film laboratories, and low-budget optical printers were the small-gauge media technologies that provided the infrastructure for experimental filmmaking at the height of its cultural impact. Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture (Oxford University Press, 2023) by Dr. John Powers examines how the avant-garde embraced these material resources and invested them with meanings and values adjacent to those of semiprofessional film culture. By reasserting the physicality of the body in making time-lapse and kinesthetic sequences with the Bolex, filmmakers conversed with other art forms and integrated broader spheres of humanistic and scientific inquiry into their artistic process. Drawing from the photographic qualities of stocks such as Tri-X and Kodachrome, they discovered pliant metaphors that allowed them to connect their artistic practice to metaphysics, spiritualism, and Hollywood excess. By framing film labs as mystical or adversarial, they cultivated an oppositionality that valorized control over the artistic process. And by using the optical printer as a tool for excavating latent meaning out of found footage, they posited the reworking of images as fundamental to the exploration of personal and cultural identity. Providing a wealth of new detail about the making of canonised avant-garde classics by such luminaries as Carolee Schneemann, Jack Smith, and Stan Brakhage, as well as rediscovering works from overlooked artists such as Chick Strand, Amy Halpern, and Gunvor Nelson, Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture uses technology as a lens for examining the process of making: where ideas come from, how they are put into practice, and how arguments about those ideas foster cultural and artistic commitments and communities. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose new book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/technology

The Bolex camera, 16mm reversal film stocks, commercial film laboratories, and low-budget optical printers were the small-gauge media technologies that provided the infrastructure for experimental filmmaking at the height of its cultural impact. Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture (Oxford University Press, 2023) by Dr. John Powers examines how the avant-garde embraced these material resources and invested them with meanings and values adjacent to those of semiprofessional film culture. By reasserting the physicality of the body in making time-lapse and kinesthetic sequences with the Bolex, filmmakers conversed with other art forms and integrated broader spheres of humanistic and scientific inquiry into their artistic process. Drawing from the photographic qualities of stocks such as Tri-X and Kodachrome, they discovered pliant metaphors that allowed them to connect their artistic practice to metaphysics, spiritualism, and Hollywood excess. By framing film labs as mystical or adversarial, they cultivated an oppositionality that valorized control over the artistic process. And by using the optical printer as a tool for excavating latent meaning out of found footage, they posited the reworking of images as fundamental to the exploration of personal and cultural identity. Providing a wealth of new detail about the making of canonised avant-garde classics by such luminaries as Carolee Schneemann, Jack Smith, and Stan Brakhage, as well as rediscovering works from overlooked artists such as Chick Strand, Amy Halpern, and Gunvor Nelson, Technology and the Making of Experimental Film Culture uses technology as a lens for examining the process of making: where ideas come from, how they are put into practice, and how arguments about those ideas foster cultural and artistic commitments and communities. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose new book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars.

Two pedestrians collide fatefully.by maxicue. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo.This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful.“Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways.He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open.“I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added.“Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders.“Hungry?” he asked.“I could eat,” she half smiled.He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her.“I'm Joe,” he told her.“Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich.They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it.“Anything else?” he asked.“Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.”“Okay if we share?” he asked.“That's fine.”“Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?”Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.”“Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.”“Okay.”They stayed, talking over the small empty plate.“Where are you from?” he asked.“The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.”“No shit! Me too!”“No shit!”“No shit. Where?”“Robbinsdale.”“Golden Valley.”“No shit?”“No shit.”The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type.Fate.“You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck.“I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.”“Presently,” she giggled.“Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.”“No, it's cute.”“Glad you think so,” he chuckled.“How's the job search going?” she asked.“Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.”“From what?” she asked.“I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.”“No shit!”“No shit.”“Why not stay there?”“I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm.Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead.“It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her.“Cool.”“Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.”“Is that cool?” she asked.“Pretty cool,” he chuckled.When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.”“You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him.“Um…you sure?”“I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again.“I can get something on the way,” he decided.“Great!”Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms.His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought.Both were blushing while he made the purchase.They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's.“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob.“No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.”“Jenny?”“Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled.“Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her.For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls.He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away.She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman.“Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition.“Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.”“Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled.He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.”“You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled.“Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully.She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her.“Tell me,” he said.“You don't want to fuck me?”“Of course I do. Tell me.”She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated.“I…had to,” she choked out.“Had to?”“Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away.“It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back.“I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.”“Best to know I guess,” Joe tried.“It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.”“From?”“Everything!”“Including?”“My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…”“Did he…?”“No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him.“I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.”“Sorry,” Joe apologized.“I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled.“But…it doesn't sound like sex…”Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.”“But you don't know me.”“Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt.He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt.“Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled.He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth.Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned.Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there.“Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches.“I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in.“Oh fuck!” she moaned.“Too much?” he asked reluctantly.“Don't you fucking stop!” she declared.He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her.“Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis.Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way.He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples.She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming.“Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest.“Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs.“Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm.“It'll be better next time,” he promised.She chuckled weakly.“What?” he asked.She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his.“That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained.“I thought it was making love,” he argued.“Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him.“Pedantic?”“You know what I mean.”“Of course, but…”“I'm smarter than I look.”“I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.”“I've met several, and not all blondes.”“School?”“And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.”“Makes sense. So school…?”“I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.”“GED?” he asked.“Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?”“School?”“Yeah.”“I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.”“You're a poet?”“Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.”“Thieves?”“The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.”He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area.“Are those…?”“Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.”“When was that?”“A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.”“Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors.Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip.He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position.After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did.“Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after.“Yeah,” Joe agreed.She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest.“Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly.“As long as you want.”“Thanks.”by maxicue for Literotica.This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica.Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series

Two pedestrians collide fatefully.by maxicue. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo.This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful.“Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways.He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open.“I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added.“Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders.“Hungry?” he asked.“I could eat,” she half smiled.He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her.“I'm Joe,” he told her.“Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich.They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it.“Anything else?” he asked.“Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.”“Okay if we share?” he asked.“That's fine.”“Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?”Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.”“Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.”“Okay.”They stayed, talking over the small empty plate.“Where are you from?” he asked.“The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.”“No shit! Me too!”“No shit!”“No shit. Where?”“Robbinsdale.”“Golden Valley.”“No shit?”“No shit.”The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type.Fate.“You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck.“I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.”“Presently,” she giggled.“Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.”“No, it's cute.”“Glad you think so,” he chuckled.“How's the job search going?” she asked.“Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.”“From what?” she asked.“I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.”“No shit!”“No shit.”“Why not stay there?”“I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm.Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead.“It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her.“Cool.”“Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.”“Is that cool?” she asked.“Pretty cool,” he chuckled.When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.”“You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him.“Um…you sure?”“I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again.“I can get something on the way,” he decided.“Great!”Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms.His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought.Both were blushing while he made the purchase.They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's.“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob.“No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.”“Jenny?”“Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled.“Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her.For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls.He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away.She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman.“Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition.“Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.”“Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled.He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.”“You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled.“Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully.She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her.“Tell me,” he said.“You don't want to fuck me?”“Of course I do. Tell me.”She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated.“I…had to,” she choked out.“Had to?”“Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away.“It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back.“I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.”“Best to know I guess,” Joe tried.“It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.”“From?”“Everything!”“Including?”“My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…”“Did he…?”“No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him.“I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.”“Sorry,” Joe apologized.“I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled.“But…it doesn't sound like sex…”Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.”“But you don't know me.”“Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt.He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt.“Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled.He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth.Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned.Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there.“Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches.“I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in.“Oh fuck!” she moaned.“Too much?” he asked reluctantly.“Don't you fucking stop!” she declared.He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her.“Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis.Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way.He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples.She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming.“Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest.“Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs.“Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm.“It'll be better next time,” he promised.She chuckled weakly.“What?” he asked.She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his.“That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained.“I thought it was making love,” he argued.“Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him.“Pedantic?”“You know what I mean.”“Of course, but…”“I'm smarter than I look.”“I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.”“I've met several, and not all blondes.”“School?”“And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.”“Makes sense. So school…?”“I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.”“GED?” he asked.“Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?”“School?”“Yeah.”“I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.”“You're a poet?”“Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.”“Thieves?”“The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.”He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area.“Are those…?”“Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.”“When was that?”“A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.”“Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors.Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip.He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position.After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did.“Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after.“Yeah,” Joe agreed.She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest.“Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly.“As long as you want.”“Thanks.”by maxicue for Literotica.This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found at the maxicue library of Literotica.Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series

Les Thornbury is a documentarian and astute student of nature and people, in other words, of life. After time spent in Vietnam aboard a "wallowing, wood-hulled minesweeper," he retuned home in 1972 and borrowed an old, spring wound Bolex film camera. He wrote and then made a documentary of the Currituck Banks along the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  A second film about the NC Coastal Area Management Act followed. Both were televised statewide and Les' fate was sealed. After graduating from college, Mary Thornbury, alongside a long a successful career in Human Resources, joined Les in many assignments for filming profiles of the distinguished recipients of the North Carolina Awards, the highest honor bestowed across numerous areas for individuals in North Carolina.This married couple have one adult son, David. While officially retired, they are migrating back into the documentary world, this time taking advantage of the many technological advances that are captured within the Android phone that Les holds in his hand. They are doing profiles on seniors and their varied artistic pursuits. They're in the early stages of this latest engagement of their lifelong passion. We will share updates on these profiles as they become available. Join us for this wonderful conversation!  Support the showHave comments or questions for us? Interested in sharing your story on Aging Well? Please send your information and questions to Hugh via email at willowwaycreations@gmail.com or through any of our social media links on our website, findingbeautyinthegray.com. We'd love to hear from you and appreciate your feedback. Leaving feedback on your podcast host site (Apple, Spotify, etc.) is the single most important and effective way for us to stay viable and to continue to bring you great stories and helpful resources. And if you are enjoying the show and getting value from our topics and guests, we would most welcome your financial support. Producing a quality resource does require appreciable financial investment. Thank you!

Professional surfer turned filmmaker Chris Malloy joins us to discuss how a singular lesson from his father became his career missive, the gift he gave back in return, hiring a young Jack Johnson to operate the Bolex for his first film, and how a near career-ending wipeout at Pipe created the space to explore a passion that will become his legacy beyond the surf world. Part Two will be published next week. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Steven Spielberg is the most successful director of his generation and the highest-grossing director of all time: his films have taken more than $10 billion worldwide. From Jaws to E.T. and Jurassic Park to Schindler's List, his storytelling has captivated audiences around the world. Steven grew up in Phoenix, Arizona, where he started making films as a young boy. In 1958 he made a short Western which won him a Boy Scout merit badge. He screened it to his entire Scout troop and their laughter and applause got him hooked on film making. In 1971 he directed a television movie called Duel about a motorist who is pursued by a murderous truck driver. The film attracted good reviews from critics, and before the age of 30, Steven had directed his first global hit: Jaws grossed $471 million worldwide and is credited as heralding the arrival of the blockbuster era. He now says Jaws was ‘a free pass into my future.' He has won three Academy Awards, and has received eight nominations for best director. The Fabelmans, his most recent film, is a semi-fictionalised account of his own coming of age, drawing on his film-making experiences as a child. Steven is married to the actor Kate Capshaw, who starred in his film Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, and they have seven children. DISC ONE: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance by Gene Pitney DISC TWO: Fugue in G minor, BMW 578 – “The Little” arranged by Leopold Stokowski, composed by J.S Bach, performed by Philadelphia Orchestra and conducted by Yannick Nezet-Seguin DISC THREE: Michelle by The Beatles DISC FOUR: What the World Needs Now Is Love by Jackie DeShannon DISC FIVE: Come Fly with Me by Frank Sinatra DISC SIX: The Ghost of Tom Joad by Bruce Springsteen DISC SEVEN: Somewhere, composed by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, performed by Reri Grist DISC EIGHT: Coolhand by Buzzy Lee BOOK CHOICE: The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck LUXURY ITEM: H-8 Bolex camera CASTAWAY'S FAVOURITE: Coolhand by Buzzy Lee Presenter Lauren Laverne Producer Paula McGinley

Part Three of the trilogy! Marie Nikondo has lain waste to Jeff's camera collection — now the question is, how to dispose of the booty? What's the best way to divest yourself of camera equipment — sell online? Donate to salivating photography students? Give to a potential paramour? Find all the answers in this holiday classic.was the Shroud of Turin the first contact print?Jeff sold three lenses and one camera — thanks, listeners!with the proceeds, he bought a vintage boombox and a 28mm f2.8 LW-Nikkor, an above-water lens for the Nikonosposting panoramas to Instagram? check out the extremely useful (and free) Instagram Swipe Panorama iPhone shortcutpushing film: Gabe has, Jeff never has!our prodigious mailbag, including shots fired about the proper pronunciation of “Nikon”!and now the main event: how to divest!eBay, Craigslist, FaceBook Marketplace, and what to do when you fear peoplethe KEH option — in person at their Atlanta HQ, with their buyers when they come to your neighborhood, or shipping them gear for a quote? (there are similar protocols at Adorama, B&H and other online retailers)local camera shopsthe local film community: Beers and Cameras, meetups, etc.ever had a bad experience as a seller?the reseller's creed: if you're not using and enjoying an item, its value to you is not what you paid for it, nor what it might fetch on the open market… it's zeroan alternate to selling: donating! The Film Photography Projects's school donation program is greatGabe's sudden brainwave: an I Dream of Cameras Garage Sale! are y'all in?another alternative: give a film camera to the new parents of a child or a puppy — or a gift for your date!your IDOC photo assignment: shoot a portrait of a friend, shoot a portrait of a stranger — post on Instagram and tag us to be amplified!'tis the season of giving, so why not check out our dazzling merch?Chris Chu is hosting a photowalk in Venice, California on Sunday, December 18Gabe got a $50 Mark O'Brien surprise package — which is another fun way to divest yourself of stuff!Still available from the Greenstein collection — email or DM if intrigued!Bell & Howell Dial 35 (with case)Bolex H16 Reflex 16mm movie camera (with case and accessories)Bolex 16mm lenses:10mm f1.6 Kern-Paillard Switar17.5mm-70mm f2.4 SOM Berthiot Pan-Cinor (with case, viewfinder and filters)25mm f1.8 SOM Berthiot Lytar75mm f2.8 Kern-Paillard YvarCanon Color Demi (red)Canon Color Demi (blue; with cap and case)Canon Color Demi (white; with case)Canon Dial Rapid (nonfunctional)Canon 110 ED 20 (with case)Canon AE-1 with 55mm f1.2 FDKodak Bantam SpecialKodak No. 2 Folding Autographic BrownieKonica Acom-1 with 50mm f1.7 Hexanon ARLeica M3 (single-stroke)Leica M lenses:50mm f1.1 7Artisans (chrome)50mm f2 Dual Range Summicron (with goggles and two cases)90mm f2 APO-Summicron-M (with box, case and caps)Minox B (with case and chain)Minox BL (metric scale; with case and chain)Nikon F with Photomic T Finder, Prism Finder and Action Finder and 50mm f1.4 Nikkor-S Auto and 55mm f3.5 Micro-NikkorNikon Speed MagnyNikonos III with 35mm f2.5 NikkorOlympus MFT lenses9mm f8.0 fisheye body cap lens14-42mm f3.5-5.6 M.Zuiko EZ ED MSC (silver, with caps)Pentax Auto 110 Super with Pentax 110 flashPentax 110 lenses:18mm f2.8 Pan Focus20-40mm f2.8 Zoom24mm f2.850mm f2.870mm f2.8Pentax Electro Spotmatic with 55mm f1.8 SMC TakumarPentax 6×7 MLU (with TTL finder and wooden grip)Pentax 6x7 lenses:45mm f4 SMC Pentax-6×7 (with caps)105mm f2.4 Super-Multi-Coated Takumar/6x7 (with caps)Petri Color 35 (black; with cap and case)Polaroid Big Swinger 3000 Land CameraPolaroid i-Zone (blue) + three packs of filmPolaroid Snap (black) + several packs of Zink paperVoigtländer Perkeo I (first version, Vaskar lens, Pronto shutter, with case)

The six part HBO documentary 100 Foot Wave is the story of big wave surfer Garrett McNamara, as he learns about the biggest waves in the world in Nazaré, Portugal. Then, with help from the town of Nazaré, he and his team set up a safety and support system and invite surfers to come from all over the world to surf. The series captures the amazing power of the ocean, and the passion of surfers chasing big waves and putting themselves at risk of serious injury and death. Surf and ocean cinematographer Mike Prickett was the perfect DP for 100 Foot Wave. Mike has decades of experience shooting in the water, following Garrett and many other big wave surfers around the world. He's shot documentaries Riding Giants, Step Into Liquid and the biopic Chasing Mavericks. As a kid growing up on the island of Oahu, Hawaii, Mike took advantage of living in a tourist spot. He had his own camera, took pictures of the tourists, developed and printed the pictures while they did glass bottom boat tours, and then sold the photos to them when they returned. He soon figured out how to take photos underwater with his camera in a water housing, then got a 16mm Bolex camera and started shooting movies. Mike learned how to surf and began filming the top surfers around the world, developing new and better camera systems as the technology progressed. On a shoot in Tahiti in 2012, Mike saved a diver who got caught in a current that pushed him down at least 220 feet underwater. As Mike swam back up with the diver, they began to run out of air and had to surface quickly. Mike got the bends, which has left his legs partially paralyzed. But he's kept right on shooting, developing different and exciting ways to further the technology of water cinematography. Mike says that even if you can't use your legs very well, it doesn't matter when you're out there. He's able to shoot from the cliffs, use remote controlled jet skis and drones, and fly in helicopters, ride jet skis or boats on the ocean. For 100 Foot Wave, Nazaré, Portugal presented some unique challenges as a location, because the waves are so big and the area gets so foggy. The surfers and the camera crew wait all year for the big waves to come to Nazaré by November and December, and they must be ready to go and shoot at a moment's notice. Shooting is a massive undertaking, with at least 15 camera people on the waves to catch the action. The crew caught the action with long lenses from the cliffs, the beach, and with waterproof drones, but when it was foggy, they needed to have people in the water. Mike and the team built a special remote controlled electric jet ski with a gimbal system that could be controlled by an operator from the cliffs- basically inventing a way to do smooth dolly shots on the water. Mike Prickett just won a Creative Arts Emmy for episode four of 100 Foot Wave. 100 Foot Wave is streaming on HBOMax. Find Mike Prickett: https://saltnairstudios.com/ Instagram: @mikeprickett_ Find out even more about this episode, with extensive show notes and links: http://camnoir.com/ep186/ Sponsored by DZOFilm: https://www.dzofilm.com/ Sponsored by Hot Rod Cameras: www.hotrodcameras.com The Cinematography Podcast website: www.camnoir.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/TheCinematographyPodcast Facebook: @cinepod Instagram: @thecinepod Twitter: @ShortEndz

Recording provided by Matthew Martori. The cranking and recording sound of a Bolex film camera. It is quite cumbersome to use compared to modern digital video cameras, but its images have an undeniable charm to them.  This is part of the Obsolete Sounds project, the world's biggest collection of disappearing sounds and sounds that have become extinct – remixed and reimagined to create a brand new form of listening. Explore the whole project at https://citiesandmemory.com/obsolete-sounds

Composition by Steph Shipley.  "The short soundscape Final Cut is inspired by research into films shot with Bolex film cameras.  Re-imagined themes of mortality, urban extinction and desert heat are filtered through sounds I composed on my digital piano and the obsolete Bolex recording." This is part of the Obsolete Sounds project, the world's biggest collection of disappearing sounds and sounds that have become extinct – remixed and reimagined to create a brand new form of listening. Explore the whole project at https://citiesandmemory.com/obsolete-sounds

Recording provided by Conserve The Sound. This is part of the Obsolete Sounds project, the world's biggest collection of disappearing sounds and sounds that have become extinct – remixed and reimagined to create a brand new form of listening. Explore the whole project at https://citiesandmemory.com/obsolete-sounds

Two pedestrians collide fatefully.by  maxicue. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Joe slid through the crowd on the street, not in a hurry, just enjoying it, like it was some kind of game, call it Body Avoidance, a challenge of finding the gaps just large enough to pass through untouched while the bodies continued moving in somewhat predictable ways, though the unpredictable could always happen, adding to the challenge and the fun, that quick burst bypassing the unexpected shift. He loved this game ever since moving to New York, at first when he worked at a copy place in Grand Central Station (nearby where he happened to be sliding through at the moment), especially busy streets around there, especially at rush hours and lunch, and further challenged when he carried heavy packages of copies destined for publishing houses, often pocketing the cab money given to him to walk even farther through more busy streets carrying those burdens. And then when he became busboy and then waiter at the restaurant at Max's Kansas City, a punk club with the music upstairs and the restaurant where he worked downstairs, sliding through crowds of kids his age on weekend nights. It felt like a kind of dance, especially at the club, even with his own special tempo.This time though, for the first time ever as far as he could recall, he collided with someone who seemed to appear out of nowhere, his height of six and a half feet always helping his vision and his traversing perhaps missing her much smaller frame, at least a foot shorter, probably closer to a foot and a half, but more it seemed like she stepped into the narrow passage he'd found as if on purpose, finding the perfect moment for collision. But of course that would have been impossible, her knowing when to get in his way, when he'd happen to be sliding through at that very moment, unless fate could be considered purposeful.“Asshole,” the young woman growled from the concrete in which his impact sent her, landing on her ass and a hand that prevented something worse like concussion and scraping it for the trouble. With him stopped standing over her, the crowd flowed around the sudden impediment like cattle somehow avoiding stampeding, though less animal and more human since the flow went both ways.He looked down at a blonde waif, skinny and frail, her t shirt and jeans too big for her and looking well past new, the t shirt white with a band logo he was unfamiliar with showing every stain, and there were many, the jeans showing a small right kneecap where the cloth had frayed. The navy peacoat, too warm for the balmy, almost summerlike weather unusual this early in the year, splayed open.“I'm so sorry,” Joe exclaimed, and when his stretched out hand was avoided by her, he insisted, “Let me help you up.” She finally allowed his large hand to take hold of her small slim one aiding her to standing. “I didn't see you,” he added.“Obviously,” she smirked, adjusting her stuffed and scuffed red backpack on her shoulders.“Hungry?” he asked.“I could eat,” she half smiled.He guided her across the street and to the end of the block where one of the last of the Horn and Hardarts automats existed and put coins into the slots for her tuna sandwich and chips and for his egg salad. He bought her a Coke and he got coffee. She used the toilet there to clean her scrape amongst other things since she took a while, which worried him, thinking she might have run off, but of course she didn't, having food waiting for her.“I'm Joe,” he told her.“Jenny,” she replied before filling her mouth with a bite of sandwich.They said nothing for a while since she devoured her food, obviously needing it.“Anything else?” he asked.“Maybe a pie? The lemon meringue looked tempting.”“Okay if we share?” he asked.“That's fine.”“Uhm, are you going to stay?” He looked at her, saw her eyes pooling and she sniffled. “Please?”Her smile nearly broke his heart when she replied, “Nowhere better to be.”“Good. After we eat, let's get that scrape taken care of.”“Okay.”They stayed, talking over the small empty plate.“Where are you from?” he asked.“The Twin Cities. Minneapolis.”“No shit! Me too!”“No shit!”“No shit. Where?”“Robbinsdale.”“Golden Valley.”“No shit?”“No shit.”The two suburbs were neighbors, Robbinsdale more middle class than Golden Valley, which tended to be more upper middle class, a lot of professionals, doctors, lawyers and professors, his dad being of the latter type.Fate.“You work around here?” she asked, since Joe had dressed up in a jacket and tie, the tie loose around his neck.“I used to,” he told her. “I'm actually applying for jobs presently.”“Presently,” she giggled.“Sorry. I tend to talk like I have a stick up my butt.”“No, it's cute.”“Glad you think so,” he chuckled.“How's the job search going?” she asked.“Not great unfortunately. My uncle's an executive at the William Morris Agency, and I hoped that might help, but I guess he's against nepotism. It's possible I'll get a job in their mail room. I applied at other offices, but I'm making a career change, or hoping to, and have got little experience.”“From what?” she asked.“I used to be a waiter at Max's Kansas City.”“No shit!”“No shit.”“Why not stay there?”“I needed a change,” he murmured, unconsciously stroking his arm.Jenny sensing Joe's discomfort regarding the subject wisely ended that line of inquiry. “What's the William Morris Agency?” she asked instead.“It's one of the largest talent agencies in America,” he told her.“Cool.”“Yeah. It's had its perks. Getting turned on to Bowie early because my uncle wrote the contract that signed him. Meeting cool stars at a party at his house upstate. Going to openings like the movie Hair and Apocalypse Now, the last a brand new print and sitting close.”“Is that cool?” she asked.“Pretty cool,” he chuckled.When they left the automat, he told her, “Let's get you some anti-bacteria for your scrape and Band-Aids. I know a drugstore nearby.”“You don't have anything at home?” she asked, surprising him.“Um…you sure?”“I'm sure,” she smiled, and he could see those pretty blue eyes pool again.“I can get something on the way,” he decided.“Great!”Since the drugstore was close by, he went there anyway, and while getting the first aid stuff, she waited for him near the counter. “Need any of these?” she blushed, pointing to the rack of condoms.His cock stiffened in his pants while he grabbed a sixpack of lubricated Trojans. She stayed his hand and grabbed a twelve pack instead. “Holy shit,” he thought.Both were blushing while he made the purchase.They walked over to Grand Central and took the subway south to Fourteenth Street close to where he lived. They entered a door between a couple non-descript store fronts and climbed the stairs three floors, Joe unlocking a door on the left at the top. Fortunately none of his roommates were around in the shared area, probably sleeping since they tended to keep vampire hours, and Joe guided Jenny down a hallway, taking a sharp right and, pushing aside a beaded curtain, gestured her through. He had by far the largest bedroom in the three bedroom apartment, a couple large windows unfortunately facing the wall of another building. Unfortunate not for the view, but for the easy access from the roof to the room, the probable path taken when someone broke in and stole his record collection and his typewriter not long before. Or they could have just walked in, because he knew the probable culprit, since he'd seen the junkie just off St. Marks selling his records, a regular at Max's.“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, and Joe was a definite slob.“No problem,” she responded. “Beggars can't be choosers.”“Jenny?”“Mind if I take a shower?” she sniffled.“Not at all. Just a second.” He knelt in front of a small cabinet and grabbed a towel for her. “The red door on the right,” he told her.For some reason they'd painted the bathroom a deep red, including the door, the rest of the apartment with white walls.He cleaned up his place while she showered, neatening the books and papers on the coffee table, the table on which he used to type before losing his typewriter, and tossing clothes into a gunny sack he used to tote down to go to the nearest laundromat a block or so away.She returned carrying her clothes and her bag, wearing the towel with it tucked between her cleavage, more of it than he expected, and when she unceremoniously dropped the towel, she sported perky b cup breasts, all the more substantial looking on her petite frame. She was skinny but fortunately not completely starved, no bones jutting out, her belly youthfully firm with just a hint of convexity, and her full bush, being blonde, seemed less substantial than if it were dark. Her waist curved subtly, neither what some would call child bearing hips, but not boyish either. This was definitely a woman.“Like what you see?” she smiled, turning, and showing him a perfect firm round ass. He also noticed muscled thighs and her arms even had some definition.“Wow,” he said. “You're definitely in shape.”“Dreams of being a prima ballerina,” she sniffled.He sat on the bed and patted his lap. “Come here.”“You have way too many clothes on,” she sniffled and giggled.“Come here, Jenny,” he said more forcefully.She sat on his lap sideways. He reluctantly kept his hands off her.“Tell me,” he said.“You don't want to fuck me?”“Of course I do. Tell me.”She sobbed. Only then did he embrace her across her middle, her face ending up against his chest. He could feel the tears wet his shirt. “Tell me,” he repeated.“I…had to,” she choked out.“Had to?”“Your shirt,” she murmured, pulling her head away.“It's okay,” he insisted, gently pulling her head back.“I auditioned over the years to get into ballet school here, but no takers,” she managed to say. “I wanted to be a ballerina but I guess I'm not good enough.”“Best to know I guess,” Joe tried.“It's not that. Oh, okay that kind of sucked, but mostly I wanted to get away.”“From?”“Everything!”“Including?”“My mother's cruel disappointment. She'd been a ballerina until she had me. My boyfriend turning out to be gay. Another boy practically raping me instead making sure I was ready. My father…”“Did he…?”“No, but he was working up to it. Probably looked at me like I was my mom when I was her age or younger I guess. He'd be affectionate, too affectionate as it turned out. He touched me where he shouldn't, not directly but close, you know. I guess I didn't believe it, but it turned out he was actually being shy, and eventually brought my hand to his crotch which got me off him immediately. The last straw…I woke up with him in my bed. I screamed and punched like in his diaphragm which took his wind. Maybe I should have punched lower, but I wanted to be nowhere near that, and when I raced out the room, my mother plods over and my dad says some bullshit about me seducing him, and since it was all about jealousy, him being more affectionate to me, and disappointment, she fucking believed him.“I'm of course freaking out, everything…and then this…but I managed to take some breaths, calming down, and told my mom if she wanted rid of me I needed money. They only had a couple hundred around but my mom takes me to her bank, gets me another five hundred, drives me to the bus station, buys me a ticket to New York, my demand, with her credit card. She actually offered one to me, but I told her she'd probably close it and have me arrested or something, and the bitch shrugged. And I'm like, ‘You're a fucking cunt.' And she's saying I'm a useless slut.”“Sorry,” Joe apologized.“I'm the sorry one,” Jenny actually chuckled.“But…it doesn't sound like sex…”Jenny shifted around so that she faced him, straddling his lap. “I got hit on by fucking pimps, Joe, as soon as I got off the fucking bus at Penn station. I'm not as naïve as I look.”“But you don't know me.”“Like you're a psycho? You don't seem the type and in a way I don't fucking care. A rapist probably wouldn't have brought me home. The hotel I stayed at this creepy guy kept staring at me in the lobby and ended up following me to my fucking floor, so I like got out quick out of there, practically running. And I didn't even dare shower there since the shower room was fucking shared and fucking groady. I was actually headed to Grand Central when we collided, thinking I'd try taking a train down to twenty-third, staying at the Chelsea or something, just to do something cool while I was here and still alive. So Joe, I guess you're the best choice I've had so far.” She kissed him, pulling off the jacket he still wore and unbuttoning his shirt.He broke the kiss when he tossed aside the tie, then lifted her and set her on her back on the bed. He finished the unbuttoning and tossed aside his shirt.“Nice,” she smiled, stroking his chest. Joe didn't work out, but being young, just twenty-one, and working hard at his job as a waiter, kept him slim and slimly muscled.He kept his pants on when he made love to her lying beside her on his side. Kisses continued for a while, both enjoying it especially when tongues were involved, her breath tasting of toothpaste and his presumably not offensive, while his hand began exploring the rest of her. The hand took the weight of her breasts, teasingly moving on before a direct attack on her small nipples to linger on her taut belly and moving teasing across her pudendum, through her soft patch of blond hair, before feeling the smoothness of her thighs and the firmness of muscles, and then under her, lifting her slightly by her firm ass, followed by sliding along her back, across her shoulder and returning to her breasts, fingers moving in on her nipples, caressing and tugging gently at each one, making her gasp into his mouth.Only then did he end the kiss, bringing his mouth to the exploration, finding thrills for her at her ear and neck before moving to her breasts and nipples. Once each one had been appreciated for a while, the second sending his hand down slowly, eventually fingers discovering the dampness of her labia, rimming the edges, his mouth followed the same trail as his hand, and when it reached where she wanted it, he shifted his body between her widened legs and his tongue lapped across her clit, the first touch of it, and she lifted her middle and moaned.Both fingers and mouth remained there, working her gradually to her first climax via a man, especially intense when he stroked her g spot, his other hand tugging at her nipples, measuring the squeeze and building on it since she seemed to handle ever more pressure there.“Joe,” she murmured once she recovered, and smiled when he got up and got naked for her. “Oh my,” she commented at his length, on the thicker side, and definitely longer than the two she'd seen by at least a couple inches.“I'll be gentle,” he promised, opening a condom and rolling it on and moving between her thighs. He brought her hand to his cock to guide him, and she brought it where she wanted it and he slowly pushed in.“Oh fuck!” she moaned.“Too much?” he asked reluctantly.“Don't you fucking stop!” she declared.He pushed into one of the tightest sheathes he'd ever felt and realized he wouldn't last and told her.“Just fuck me,” she insisted, her legs wrapping his thighs as emphasis.Going slow probably helped delay the inevitable, seeming to open her up with each deeper stroke. In the end, he nudged at her cervix, thankfully with his cock completely inside her. He'd known girls her size, even taller, where he had to be careful about the impact there, usually no more than an inch to spare, but enough to cause pain. Not this time. Touching it made her growl, but in a good way.He decided to exploit that, grinding into her, pubic bone against pubic bone which affected her clit too, and just pulling out a couple inches before thrusting in. She seemed fine with that, even enjoying it, so he kept it up while his hands drew in to work fingers and thumbs on her nipples.She began meeting his thrusts with lifts, and her hands grabbed his ass cheeks, and she began pulling on his flesh there, wanting longer strokes it seemed, but he waited until she grabbed hard, closing on being painful, her nails thankfully short, he'd learn later she tended to nibble on them when nervous, and he'd actually seen a little of that in the automat, and she pressed against him one more time before announcing her climax with, “Oh my fucking God!” rather loudly at a high growl. And when she loosened her grip, only then did he abandon himself to fully fucking her, long, ever faster strokes for only seconds before he pressed deep, pushing against her cervix, and cumming.“Joe,” she murmured, her hands pushing his chest.“Sorry,” he responded, hugging her to him and turning them over. He'd reached the last of his ejaculations, every one intense, and reached down to hold the condom to his penis while shifting her higher with his legs.“Mmm,” she responded when it slid out. She shivered a little too as if feeling a last echo of her orgasm.“It'll be better next time,” he promised.She chuckled weakly.“What?” he asked.She shifted forward. Since both of their bodies had fairly equal proportions of legs to torsos, she had to scoot up a bit, her legs straddling his abdomen, her damp pussy pressing into it, for her to look eye to eye with him. Her hands pressed his shoulders to put her face above his.“That was several magnitudes better than the last and only fuck I've had,” she explained.“I thought it was making love,” he argued.“Don't be pedantic, Joe,” she smirked, surprising him.“Pedantic?”“You know what I mean.”“Of course, but…”“I'm smarter than I look.”“I don't believe in the dumb blonde myth.”“I've met several, and not all blondes.”“School?”“And fellow dancers, although most were dedicated enough to be smart too I suppose. Learning to put the time in to do the best you can both in dancing and studying.”“Makes sense. So school…?”“I would have graduated this spring if I hadn't had to run away.”“GED?” he asked.“Probably. I don't imagine going to school for one quarter. You?”“School?”“Yeah.”“I went to Bard in upstate New York for a couple years, but quit because it was ridiculous having parents spend that much money for me to study to be a poet.”“You're a poet?”“Not much recently. I thought New York would be inspiring, but mostly it's been distracting. I'm also interested in filmmaking, like the experimental kind, so no more lucrative. I still have a Bolex sixteen millimeter camera which fortunately the thieves never found.”“Thieves?”“The problem with living amongst junkies. Let me show you something.”He lifted his left arm and she caressed a line of marks near his inner elbow area.“Are those…?”“Tracks. Only one is fairly fresh. It's why I quit Max's: too much temptation. Living here too, but right now I can't afford to move. A friend of mine OD'd and died, and another almost did and I ended up keeping him alive. It was the last straw, and I realized that'd be me, or it'd just be a spiral of inertia, all about the next fix and nothing else, so I quit. Luckily I wasn't too strung out and basically hung with my folks for a week when my dad had his sabbatical in DC this past winter. I drank a bit there, but my parents seemed none the wiser. Anyway, when I came back to work planning to keep my tips instead of spending them all, I did okay until I didn't one day, succumbing to temptation, and quit after that.”“When was that?”“A week ago. I've been job hunting ever since.”“Lucky for me,” she grinned and shifted around, pulling off the used condom and handing it to him carefully and he managed to toss it atop his underpants while she enveloped his penis in her mouth. He worried about her lack of experience, mostly worried about her teeth, but she proved quite capable. He nudged her to straddle his face and had to bend his back a little, supported by his arms so fingers weren't available, and mostly kept her pleasure at a quiet purr, not distracting her from her surprisingly effective endeavors.Once she'd got him hard, she bounced off the bed, found a condom and rolled it on with some study and climbed on and guided him back inside her, carefully, stroke by stroke, sending him deep. Once there, she began her ride, this time having the full effect of his entire cock, to the point she needed to bring it back to her slit when it slipped out a couple times, but seemed to get the length of him soon enough and began riding him at a medium fast clip.He watched the roll and bounce of her perky tits before stilling them with his hands, one letting go to guide her hand to her clit. From that she worked herself into a frenzy, finally shifting down and rolling atop him to achieve her orgasm. Fortunately it always took longer for Joe to cum when a woman took the cowgirl position.After, she somehow turned around while he remained inside and moved her body down, and he realized what she wanted, moving from beneath her, clutching her hips, and pulling her into him in a doggy style position. He shifted, letting go of the hips and bringing one hand to her hanging tits and the other to her clit, practically holding her up with the latter hand, and like he had before, let himself go fucking her hard and fast until he came, happily not long after she did.“Fuck Joe,” she commented softly after.“Yeah,” Joe agreed.She did the securing of the condom to his penis and they soon took the same position as they had before, her head resting on his chest.“Can I stay?” she asked quietly and shyly.“As long as you want.”“Thanks.”by  maxicue for Literotica.This is the first chapter of a novel. The rest of the published chapters are found  at the  maxicue library of Literotica.Fate's Embrace: 6 Part Series.

On this episode: surf films, directing Bill Murray, and being a filmmaker in the digital age. We're talking with Jason Baffa, filmmaker, surfer, and sometimes maker of surf films. Show Notes 00:35 – Announcing Jason's new show CHASING WAVES 02:40 – Introducing Jason Baffa  10:00 – Meeting Bill Murray and getting him to narrate Loopers 12:00 – What is a Bolex? 14:20 – Film vs digital and the impact on how you shoot 29:15 – How Chasing Waves came to be 34:20 – Did you grow up spending time outdoors? 52:30 – Advice for aspiring surf filmmakers 57:50 – The Revenge of Little Joey (and Fitz's missing stunt driver credit) Connect with Jason on his website jasonbaffafilms.com, on Instagram @jasonbaffafilms and on YouTube. Mentioned in this Episode Chasing Waves – watch on Disney+ One California Day Bella Vita Loopers: The Caddies Long Walk Bolex The Revenge of Little Joey Connect with us! Like Almost There on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/almostthereadventurepodcast/ Follow Almost There on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/almostthere_ap/  Send us a voice message! https://www.speakpipe.com/AlmostThere Our Co-hosts Jason Fitzpatrick – IG: @themuirproject Saveria Tilden – IG: @adventuruswomen  web: AdventurUsWomen.com Jeff Hester – IG: @thesocalhiker  web: SoCalHiker.net Theme song by Opus Orange. Courtesy of Emoto Music.  The Almost There Adventure Podcast is a celebration of outdoor activities both local and epic. Discussing the big topics and talking to adventurers, artists, legends and activists within the outdoor community.

The Law Offices of Quibble, Squabble & Bicker kick off Season 3 with a childhood friend of Greg's, Luke McCullough, a commercial film producer who decides to help with our first client of the season, Growing Up Bald. This client, like most of our clients, really gets avoided and instead they talked about Troma Films, qsblaw.clownpenis.fart, silly ass face, his little fiefdom, the Dead Zone, fever blisters on my lips, a little birdie, stole a Bolex, stuck in a couch, Lloyd Kaufman, Wrath of Cannes, pissed on the floor & maced in the eyes, John Waters, Lichtenstein, Tromeo and Juliet, threaten plants, the Great Santini, rub foreheads, Mr. Milligan, hipponize, Fresh Jizz Sock Day, green mussels, bring down more pants, God's mercy, a cultivator, a prison of crappy politics, murdering cleft palate people and highknife.com. For other episodes, go to www.qsblaw.org. They are also internettable on: Instagram - @lawofficesofquibble; Twitter - @qsblaw; TikTok - @qsblaw; Uhive - www.uhive.com/z/QTTCLFU; Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/quiblle.bicker.3; Tumblr - quibblesquabblebicker; Reddit - https://www.reddit.com/user/QuibbleSquabble or watch them on YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/LawOfficesofQuibbleSquabbleBicker --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/qsb/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/qsb/support

While his Central Saint Martins classmates were learning InDesign, Price James wanted to learn to shoot on 16mm Bolex and explore more tangible film effects. Soon, he was working on dark comedy shorts like 'Action Man: Battlefield Casualties,' which stars Matt Berry, and music videos for bands like Incubus. In his latest movie, ‘You Cannot Kill David Arquette,’ the Writer-Director partnered with David Darg (Body Team 12, Fear Us Women) for an unusual idea about the rocky return of actor David Arquette to the sport of wrestling, which nearly ruined his Hollywood career. In this interview, Price talks about his roundabout path to DIY filmmaking, stop motion versus animation, how to create a heightened reality for a documentary, and how explore brutal ideas in filmmaking satire. If it’s your first time listening, make sure to subscribe and visit my new website for information on the YouTube channel, the blog, this podcast, and my new book ‘Ink by the Barrel’ which takes advice from these 200+ interviews at the link below… Join the email list here: www.brockswinson.com Follow us on Instagram for updates: @brockswinson If you enjoy the podcast, would you please consider leaving a short review on Apple Podcasts? It only takes about 60-seconds and it really helps convince some of the hard-to-get guests to sit down and have a chat (simply scroll to the bottom on your iTunes Podcast app and click “Write Review"). Enjoy the show!

Check out this film's posts @ MovieJeff.com here » https://themoviereviewshow.blogspot.com/1969/12/stereo.htmland leave a comment. Also check out my David Cronenberg filmography watch project here » https://themoviereviewshow.blogspot.com/p/david-cronenberg.html Stereo is an experimental 1969 Canadian science fiction film directed, written, produced, shot and edited by David Cronenberg in his feature film debut. The film is silent and only features voiceover narration because the Bolex camera Cronenberg was using made too much noise. Follow the show... @ Twitter https://twitter.com/MOVIEREVIEWSH0W @ YouTube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpONT6Yp423GzUrHDDqBL3g @ LetterBoxd https://letterboxd.com/jeffmovie AND, FOR AS LITTLE AS $1/MONTH » https://patreon.com/dad SUPPORT THIS SHOW AND OTHER VENTURES FROM HTTPS://WWW.MYAMERI.CA INDUSTRIES • THANK YOU --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/the-movie-review-show/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/the-movie-review-show/support

Special: The Cinematography Podcast- War Stories Vol. 5 In our fifth War Stories Special, we feature ten guest's harrowing, hilarious or heartwarming stories they had while on set, or a formative career experience that led them to cinematography. Find full interviews with each of our featured cinematographers in our archives! www.camnoir.com Cinematographer Tom Sigel experiences a fight on the set of Three Kings; producer Lije Sarki and the horror film that never saw the light of day; Dan Kneece on working in Chile for a job; Jeff Cronenweth figured out an elaborate ruse to steal a shot while shooting The Social Network; storyboard artist Tony Liberatore on finding his career path; Trevor Forrest talks about one of his more unusual and life-affirming gigs; Iris Ng on the bureaucracy in Iraq to shoot at Shanidar Cave; Bill Totolo experiences the Survivor reality show shoot from hell; Johnny Derango races to get a shot; and finally, Alex Winter on shooting with a wind-up Bolex in a mosh pit. Do you have a War Story you'd like to share? Send us an email or reach out to us on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram! Find out even more about this episode, with extensive show notes and links: http://camnoir.com/warstories5/ Sponsored by Hot Rod Cameras: www.hotrodcameras.com Website: www.camnoir.com Facebook: @cinepod Instagram: @thecinepod Twitter: @ShortEndz

 New Year, New You right?  Maybe you're looking for a new place to live.  Look no further.  This week we deep dive beneath New York City (as well as Las Vegas) to live amongst the legendary Mole People.  Then: OCOTW:  WW84 disaster? or complete disaster?  And find out what we CANCEL to start off 2021 on the right foot.With No Due Respect S03E03 (Mole People)SHOW NOTES"Dark Days" Documentary by Marc Singerhttps://www.amazon.com/gp/video/detail/B006M6NLR0/ref=atv_dp_share_cu_r"Voices in the Tunnels" Documentary by Vic Davidhttps://www.amazon.com/gp/video/detail/B00LTMG0NO/ref=atv_dp_share_cu_rARTICLESNY Timeshttps://www.nytimes.com/1995/10/07/opinion/homes-for-the-invisible.html?fbclid=IwAR1QvqROXw1qo7nJGetID1xH-gQAP1_xfDDxw-ZokpMYQHO5YHEBKTpPaIsThe Guardian on Dark Dayshttps://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/jan/26/dark-days-marc-singer-new-york?fbclid=IwAR18-IiiX3mvu3RdOxbpnT36jo-o-MgHeYVoY_pomqQJmARFo9HrQBVPz1MColumbia University Op by Joseph Brennanhttp://www.columbia.edu/~brennan/abandoned/mole-people.html?fbclid=IwAR0-GXp7b3rQx1nHJwSBNvwqWRTBMolumTnGsi8ITfMThpgMpd5c1ZMBa1AHoover Towns 1932Freedom Tunnel NYCMole People NYCMarc Singer DocumentarianMarc Singer Beast MasterJennifer Toth - Author"The Mole People"Quaid/HouserBolex 16mm film cameraVegas TunnelsThe Wonton Don Documentary on Vegas Mole Peoplehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRrxFX1wfFgWW84Thunder Cats - Chitarra

It's rare for a band's tour documentary to appeal beyond its fanbase. But with Grant Gee's documentary Meeting People is Easy, it's even more of a miracle to come near the artistic breadth of Radiohead's OK Computer, an album which has been periodically voted the greatest of all time since its release in 1997. On today's episode we talk how Gee managed to sustain the heightened style of a music video through the feature's length, using overlapping images, an emphasis on lyricism, non-sync sound, all trying to mimic not just the band's sound, but also the visual style of Thom Yorke and designer Stanley Donwood. Also: how Gee originally was called in for the original idea to make a video for each of OK Computer's songs, the thought process of putting then-unreleased songs snippets into the cut, the “amazing” unused Kid A footage he shot that was just “wrong,” writer Patricia Lockwood's thoughtful description a moment in the film, and matching the album's particular innovation of mixing digital and analogue with his own multiple visual formats like Super 8mm, 16mm Bolex, and B&W digital video.Along with Meeting People is Easy, Gee has also directed the documentary Joy Division, music videos for Radiohead, Blur, Spooky, and worked with acts ranging from Coldplay, Nick Cave, and Scott Walker. He's currently at work on the documentary The Gold Machine about Welsh writer Iain Sinclair, the third in his trilogy of feature cityscapes about writers.Meeting People is Easy is streaming for free online at Radiohead's Public Library and is also available on PAL VHS from the W.A.S.T.E. HQ.

This Pod Buffet "Trailer" is a three-piece sample of The Creatively Engaging Podcast. Focusing on Dorothy, Bill, and Shendra. Wire voice recordings from 77 years ago, Creative Caring and Living on the Brink, Epic road trips in search of the Lacandon Maya with 16mm Bolex cameras in tow. Just a bit of The Creatively Engaging. http://www.thecreativelyengaging.com (http://www.thecreativelyengaging.com ) LINKS: https://the-creatively-engaging-podcast.simplecast.com/ (https://the-creatively-engaging-podcast.simplecast.com/) CONTRIBUTORs: Bruce Devereux, Dorothy, Bill, Shendra

The Shutter Brothers are back! Listen as Kelley discusses his the results he got from shooting double 8 movie film in his Bolex movie camera. Yes, you can make real 8mm home movies today! The camera are cheap and easy to find, are there are plenty of film choices available. Meanwhile, Kevin has been testing some lenses. Listen to find out why and how. Finally, Kevin reviews a beautiful and inspiring zine from Matt Murray of Matt Loves Cameras podcast (our of our favorites!) Happy Shooting!

The Cinematography Podcast Episode 84: Alex Winter Many people know Alex Winter as the iconic character Bill S. Preston, Esq. from the hit Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and its sequels, but over the past few decades, Alex has become a prolific director of several TV, film and documentary projects. Alex was a child actor, with roles on Broadway, film and television, shooting his own projects on a wind-up 16 mm Bolex camera in his spare time. As a young actor, he followed cinematographer Michael Chapman (Jaws, Raging Bull, Taxi Driver) around on the set of The Lost Boys whenever he had downtime. After graduating from NYU film school, Alex and creative partners Tom Stern and Tim Burns created The Idiot Box, a sketch comedy show for MTV. They had creative control but not much money, so Alex, Stern and Burns moved on, making their own comedic film, Freaked, which has become a cult favorite. Alex went on to shoot and direct several music videos for bands like The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Helmet. For his most recent documentary film, Showbiz Kids, Alex found his personal experience and sensitivity as a fellow child actor immensely helpful for interviewing his subjects. The film profiles actors Evan Rachel Wood, Wil Wheaton, Henry Thomas, Mara Wilson, Todd Bridges, Milla Jovovich, Jada Pinkett Smith, the late Cameron Boyce and Diana Serra Cary (“Baby Peggy”) who tell their own stories and Hollywood experiences, bad and good, of growing up as child actors. The doc also follows two aspiring child stars as they try to break into the business or further their careers. For his upcoming documentary Zappa, Alex wanted to tell the definitive story of Frank Zappa's life and work. With the cooperation of the Zappa family, he had unprecedented access to Frank Zappa's home movies and recordings. Alex will also be seen acting once again as Bill with buddy Keanu Reeves in Bill & Ted Face The Music, as soon as a release date is set. Find Alex Winter: http://alexwinter.com/ Instagram: @alxwinter Twitter: @Winter See Showbiz Kids on HBO: https://www.hbo.com/documentaries/showbiz-kids Zappa, coming soon: http://www.zappamovie.com/about Find out even more about this episode, with extensive show notes and links: http://camnoir.com/ep84/ Sponsored by Hot Rod Cameras: www.hotrodcameras.com Website: www.camnoir.com Facebook: @cinepod Instagram: @thecinepod Twitter: @ShortEndz

In this episode, I speak with Chen "Chen" Xiang-Yun, the writer and director of the beautiful experimental film, Breathed Away, which was selected for screening at The Experimental Film Fest. Steve Crossman, founder of Brooklyn's Mono No Aware, which is a cinema-arts non-profit organization and film positive community. Chen is a visual artist from mainland China. She created Breathed Away using a 16mm film camera (Bolex) from Mono No Aware. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/experimentalfilmpodcast/support

Beyond the Bolex is a journey into the, until now, untold story of one of the most beloved and widely used pieces of technology in all of film history. The post Alyssa Bolsey – Beyond the Bolex #JIFF2019 appeared first on Fred Film Radio.

Beyond the Bolex is a journey into the, until now, untold story of one of the most beloved and widely used pieces of technology in all of film history. The post Alyssa Bolsey – Beyond the Bolex #JIFF2019 appeared first on Fred Film Radio.

Beyond the Bolex is a journey into the, until now, untold story of one of the most beloved and widely used pieces of technology in all of film history. The post Alyssa Bolsey – Beyond the Bolex #JIFF2019 appeared first on Fred Film Radio.

Beyond the Bolex is a journey into the, until now, untold story of one of the most beloved and widely used pieces of technology in all of film history. The post Alyssa Bolsey – Beyond the Bolex #JIFF2019 appeared first on Fred Film Radio.

Beyond the Bolex is a journey into the, until now, untold story of one of the most beloved and widely used pieces of technology in all of film history. The post Alyssa Bolsey – Beyond the Bolex #JIFF2019 appeared first on Fred Film Radio.

Beyond the Bolex is a journey into the, until now, untold story of one of the most beloved and widely used pieces of technology in all of film history. The post Alyssa Bolsey – Beyond the Bolex #JIFF2019 appeared first on Fred Film Radio.

Joining us this week is documentarian Anuradha Rana – Associate Professor, School of Cinematic Arts, DePaul University – as we discuss Alexandre O. Philippe’s Memory: The Origins of Alien and interview director Alyssa Bolsey and cinematographer Camilo Lara of Beyond the Bolex. Both films deal, albeit in very different ways, with behind-the-scenes looks at the art of filmmaking. From blood-curdling chest-bursting scenes to the perfect windup, rotating-lens-turret camera, we’ve got you covered. Group Review Documentary: MEMORY: THE ORIGINS OF ALIEN (Alexandre O. Philippe, 2019) Now playing in theaters and on demand Film Featured in Interview Portion: BEYOND THE BOLEX (Alyssa Bolsey, 2019) Currently playing in festivals Other Films and Sites Mentioned: Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979) American Dharma (Errol Morris, 2018) The Brink (Alison Klayman, 2019) Doc of the Dead (Alexandre O. Philippe, 2014) The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara (Errol Morris, 2003) Jodorowsky’s Dune (Frank Pavich, 2013) Kartemquin Films The Language of Opportunity (Anuradha Rana, in progress) Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice (Rob Epstein/Jeffrey Friedman, 2019) The People vs. George Lucas (Alexandre O. Philippe, 2010) Reason (Anand Patwardhan, 2018) 78/52: Hitchcock's Shower Scene (Alexandre O. Philippe, 2017) The Thin Blue Line (Errol Morris, 1988) Twelve O'Clock High (Henry King, 1949) What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael (Rob Garver, 2018)   Links to review and interview by Christopher Llewellyn Reed: Hammer to Nail review of Memory: The Origins of Alien Hammer to Nail review of Beyond the Bolex Film Festival Today interview with Alyssa Bolsey and Camilo Lara of Beyond the Bolex   Timestamps: 00:37 – Intro 05:58 – Group Discussion of MEMORY: THE ORIGINS OF ALIEN 19:43 – Chris interviews Alyssa Bolsey and Camilo Lara of BEYOND THE BOLEX 39:21 – Doc Talk Website/Email: www.fogoftruth.com disinfo@fogoftruth.com Credits: Artwork by Hilary Campbell Intro music by Jeremiah Moore Transitional music by BELLS (thanks to Christopher Ernst) Editing and shownotes by Christopher Llewellyn Reed

Joining us this week is filmmaker Mark Jenkin. In his latest film, Bait, two Cornish fisherman grapple with the influx of tourism in their own ways as we're all taken on a hypnotic ride. Mark shot this film on a Bolex camera with 16 mm black and white film and hand processed the film himself. We discussed how these decisions and others played critical roles in the character and unique style of the film. https://www.baitfilm.co.uk/ Upcoming Screenings in NYC: http://www.newdirectors.org/2019/films/bait https://www.moma.org/calendar/events/5341

Filmmaker Alyssa Bolsey didn’t discover until she was in film school herself that her great-grandfather had invented the iconic Bolex 16mm camera. She spent the next decade-plus researching her enigmatic ancestor and interviewing several influential filmmakers who used his cameras, including Barbara Hammer, Wim Wenders, and Jonas Mekas, for a film called BEYOND THE BOLEX. Bolsey and the film’s producer and DP, Camilo Lara Jr., join No Film School’s Liz Nord to discuss why the Bolex is such an enduring and beloved camera that is still used today.

Astrid Goldsmith is a multi-talented, award-winning Animator, specialising primarily in puppet stop motion. She has worked on many projects including some well known adverts such as - The Alaphant for Ford Fiesta, The Duracell Bunny and in a very recent addition, the troll in Nike's Never Ask campaign. In this episode of Greater Than 11%, Renee and Astrid discuss the process of using Bolex film cameras and how Astrid created numerous grey and red Squirrels for her masterpiece that is Squirrel Island.

Har du hørt om Naik og Bolex? Hva med No-phone-air? Når viser skitten best? Kan et spøkelse ta bilder? Du får svar på alle spørsmålene i dagens program. I tillegg kan du lære deg klassikeren "Far Goriot" på fire minutter.

As we head further into a glorious Summer, we are back this week with co-host Andrew, to talk about all the latest tv & film news, and a brand new interview with the brilliant Cinematographer, Mathias Herndl. Having started as a child actor, it seems Mathias has always been destined to work in film, but it was stumbling across an old Bolex 16mm camera in his father’s basement at the age of 5 which really set his imagination alight. Ever since those early days, it seems a camera has never left his hand. He’s worked as the cinematographer on Sean Bean’s ‘Legends’, ‘Witches of East End’, ‘Flashpoint’, 'Wayward Pines', 'Motive' and, most recently, ‘Genius’. ‘Genius’ was National Geographic's first steps into scripted drama might have seemed like a big gamble, but it was one that paid off, big time, as it’s just been nominated for 10 Emmys in this year's awards. We had a chance for a little chat with Mathias about how he created the unique look for the series, and working with the series exec producer and director, Ron Howard. Also On This Week's Show: Andrew returns as co-host, so we catch up with the tv shows & films we've been watching, including 'Man In The High Castle', 'Colony', 'Suits', 'How To Get Away With Murder', the new Doctor in 'Doctor Who', and of course, 'Game Of Thrones'. We take a look at all the latest tv & film news, including Disney's Live-Action Aladdin, some Flash Season 4 news, and Netflix's adaptation of 'The Umbrella Academy'. We give you our recommendations for upcoming TV in the next 7 days. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

"I was a 20 year old  gay man in Manhattan during the 1980s, and you know what I did? I paid my F*cking Rent!" - a Theater professor of mine on why he hates Rent, or as we call it, "Hipsters in America". And if that isn't enough, here's two men who weren't even born during the AIDS crisis talking about why Rent's characters are awful human beings, the conflict is cheap, and no one on this production knows how a Bolex works. And yet, the musical is not a complete waste of time. The same may not be said about this 45 minute episode. Enjoy! CONTACT THE SHOW: BrosBeforeShows@AOL.com Produced & Edited by Robert Tiemstra (@The_Timestar on Twitter & Instagram) Co-Hosted by Matthew Tiemstra (@ClockworkPlay on Twitter)

In 2016 the streets of Chicago are full of celebrations but in 1963 the streets of Miami were full of blood. Anyone can walk into a nudist camp and point a Bolex at some breasts, but it took a mad professor (Herschell Gordon Lewis) and his carny friend (David F. Friedman) to think of ripping a sheep's tongue out of a Swedish model's face in screaming color. Enter Blood Feast.   On the latest episode of Tracks of the Damned, Patrick takes aim at the world's first gore movie (no, for real, Eyes Without A Face doesn't really count), and dives into what is probably the weirdest movie we've covered yet. A subversive neutron bomb of a film that influenced everything from Night of the Living Dead to Pink Flamingos, Blood Feast is what happens when 24,000 dollars and two soft-core pornographers collide with destiny in a motel with a concrete sphinx out front.   But Patrick has not only done a commentary for Blood Feast, but has a never before heard interview that he conducted way back in 2011 at Terror in the Aisles' Music Box Massacre 7. In addition to that rare interview, you can hear Herschell Gordon Lewis perform the theme song to 2000 Maniacs live with a band! Dump this episode into your noise biscuits!   0:00 - 12:16 - Intro 12:17 - 1:20:03 - Commentary 1:20:04 - 1:39:41 - Herschell Gordon Lewis Interview 1:39:42 - 1:47:11 - Theme from "2000 Maniacs" Performed By Herschell Gordon Lewis

Jonas and I talked about refugees and memory, about ambient noise, poetry, the new film I Had Nowhere To Go, and why he's spent a lifetime ignoring Hollywood. For more information on I Had Nowhere To Go (IMDB) and TIFF. Synopsis Internationally acclaimed multimedia artist Douglas Gordon (24 Hour Psycho, Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait) returns to the Festival with this intimate portrait of avant-garde cinema legend Jonas Mekas. "An adventurer can always return home; an exile cannot. So I decided that culture would be my home." Jonas Mekas Internationally acclaimed multimedia artist Douglas Gordon returns to the Festival with an intimate portrait of Jonas Mekas, the legendary poet, film critic, risk-taking curator, "the godfather of the American avant-garde cinema" -- and, at 93 years old, among the remaining few to have escaped and survived Nazi persecution. I Had Nowhere to Go plunges us into both a collective and individual space of memory via long, imageless stretches over which Mekas narrates, in his inimitable voice, excerpts from his memoir (which lends the film its title). An extraordinary life story emerges as the film zigzags between Mekas' early years in a forced labour camp and a Displaced Person centre during WWII and his arrival in New York as a young Lithuanian émigré. With an immersive sound environment and intermittent, fleeting images that stand in evocative juxtaposition to Mekas' anecdotes, Gordon's film reveals in its subject a puckish humour that outweighs despair, and an unabated zest for life that both illuminates and softens the sadness. A deeply moving tribute from one great artist to another and a singular work in its own right, I Had Nowhere to Go has timely resonance today as mass migratory movements are displacing millions of people throughout the world as refugees, exiles, and stateless persons. While Mekas is certainly no ordinary person, the story he tells is a profoundly humble one, as much about daily survival as it is about aspiring to accomplish so much more. Gordon, who is ingenious at activating memory and the cinematic imaginary, compellingly presents quotidian moments outside of Mekas' famous film-related activities in order to reveal the desires, impulses, melancholy, and perseverance that inform Mekas' filmmaking and infectious love of cinema. Even when truly having nowhere to go, Mekas always saw brief glimpses of beauty as he was moving ahead. Biography Jonas Mekas - Writer Jonas Mekas born December 24, 1922, is a Lithuanian-born American filmmaker, writer, and curator who has often been called "the godfather of American avant-garde cinema." His work has been exhibited in museums and festivals across Europe and America. In 1944, Mekas left Lithuania because of war. En route, his train was stopped in Germany and he and his brother, Adolfas Mekas, were imprisoned in a labor camp in Elmshorn, a suburb of Hamburg, for eight months. The brothers escaped and were detained near the Danish border where they hid on a farm for two months until the end of the war. After the war, Mekas lived in displaced person camps in Wiesbaden and Kassel. From 1946-48, he studied philosophy at the University of Mainz and at the end of 1949, he emigrated with his brother to the U.S., settling in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York. After his arrival, he borrowed the money to buy his first Bolex 16-mm camera and began to record moments of his life. He discovered avant-garde film at venues such as Amos Vogel's pioneering Cinema 16, and he began screening his own films in 1953 at Gallery East on Avenue A and Houston Street, and a Film Forum series at Carl Fisher Auditorium on 57th Street. In 1954, he became editor of Film Culture, and in 1958, began writing his "Movie Journal" column for The Village Voice. In 1962, he co-founded Film-Makers' Cooperative (FMC) and the Filmmaker's Cinematheque in 1964, which eventually grew into Anthology Film Archives, one of the world’s largest and most important repositories of avant-garde films. The films and the voluminous collection of photographs and paper documents (mostly from or about avant garde film makers of the 1950-1980 period) were moved from time to time based on Mekas' ability to raise grant money to pay to house the massive collection. He was part of the New American Cinema, with, in particular, fellow film-maker Lionel Rogosin. He was heavily involved with artists such as Andy Warhol, Nico, Allen Ginsberg, Yoko Ono, John Lennon, Salvador Dalí, and fellow Lithuanian George Maciunas. In 1970, Anthology Film Archives opened on 425 Lafayette Street as a film museum, screening space, and a library, with Mekas as its director. Mekas, along with Stan Brakhage, Ken Kelman, Peter Kubelka, James Broughton, and P. Adams Sitney, begin the ambitious Essential Cinema project at Anthology Film Archives to establish a canon of important cinematic works. Mekas' own output ranging from narrative films (Guns of the Trees, 1961) to documentaries (The Brig, 1963) and to "diaries" such as Walden (1969); Lost, Lost, Lost (1975);Reminiscences of a Voyage to Lithuania (1972) and Zefiro torna (1992) have been screened extensively at festivals and museums around the world. In 2001, he released a five-hour long diary film entitled As I Was Moving Ahead. Martin Scorsese said once: "Jonas Mekas is the one that gave me the desire and strength to be a director." Douglas Gordon - Director Douglas Gordon's practice encompasses video and film, installation, sculpture, photography, and text. Through his work, Gordon investigates human conditions like memory and the passage of time, as well as universal dualities such as life and death, good and evil, right and wrong. Gordon's oeuvre has been exhibited globally and his film works have been presented at many competitions, including the Festival de Cannes, the Toronto International Film Festival, and the International Venice Film Festival. Gordon received the 1996 Turner Prize, the Premio 2000 prize for best young artist at the 1997 Venice Biennale, and the 1998 Hugo Boss Prize. Most recently, in May 2008 he was awarded the Roswitha Haftmann Prize by the Kunsthaus Zurich and, in 2012 the KätheKollwitz Prize from the Akademie der Künste, Berlin. Gordon was the International Juror at the 65th International Venice Film Festival, and in 2012 he was the Jury president of CinemaXXI at the 7th International Rome Film Festival. In December 2014 Douglas Gordon and pianist Hélène Grimaud have joined forces to explore the beauty of water in an extraordinary performance at Armory on Park, New York. The collaboration continued when Gordon directed the theatre performance Neck of the Woods starring Charlotte Rampling and Hélène Grimuaud at the 2015 MIF - Manchester International Festival, Manchester. Born in Scotland, Gordon lives and works in Berlin and Glasgow and teaches film at the Städelschule in Frankfurt am Main. He is represented internationally by Gagosian Gallery, as well as Untilthen in Paris, Galerie Eva Presenhuber in Zürich, and Dvir Gallery in Tel Aviv See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Kevin Bubriski, a New Englander and internationally acclaimed photographer, was a freelance photojournalist when he first arrived in New Mexico in 1981 to study filmmaking in Santa Fe. Bubriski recalls, “Although I was working as a news photographer on my own, I was looking for images that I enjoyed for their own visual merit and innate curiosity.” Bubriski found himself in a new culture as distinct to him as any foreign country he would later photograph. He took his 35-millimeter camera and hand-cranked 16mm Bolex, and began to explore the environs, particularly the neighborhoods of native New Mexicans. Excited by the photographic opportunities, he says, “I went to every fiesta, every parade, every celebration and religious observance.”Look into My Eyes: Nuevomexicanos por Vida 81′-83‘ is a collection of images from that personal exploration, it is a photographic documentation of Hispanic New Mexicans, Nuevomexicanos, taken between 1981-1983 in Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and several northern New Mexico villages. Bubriski turned his attention to New Mexico teenagers. Downtime for them meant cruising and meeting up at places like San Gabriel Park in Albuquerque. He photographed them at the New Mexico State Fair and the First Annual Lowrider Car Show and Dance. He photographed family members of all ages at weddings and dancing at the La Bamba Club on New Year’s Eve. There is a universality to Bubriski’s powerful images. The emotions revealed in his images are timeless; the physical details are a time capsule of the early eighties in New Mexico. There is an intimacy to these images, as well, the subjects, whether looking directly into the lens or away from it, appear at ease with Bubriski and his camera, inviting the viewer in for a closer look. Over three decades later, this resurrected collection of photographs isan evocative cultural documentation of people who proudly trace their ancestry to Spanish settlers who arrived here several centuries ago. These are the faces of Nuevomexicanos por vida: New Mexicans for life. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Bubriski, a New Englander and internationally acclaimed photographer, was a freelance photojournalist when he first arrived in New Mexico in 1981 to study filmmaking in Santa Fe. Bubriski recalls, “Although I was working as a news photographer on my own, I was looking for images that I enjoyed for their own visual merit and innate curiosity.” Bubriski found himself in a new culture as distinct to him as any foreign country he would later photograph. He took his 35-millimeter camera and hand-cranked 16mm Bolex, and began to explore the environs, particularly the neighborhoods of native New Mexicans. Excited by the photographic opportunities, he says, “I went to every fiesta, every parade, every celebration and religious observance.”Look into My Eyes: Nuevomexicanos por Vida 81′-83‘ is a collection of images from that personal exploration, it is a photographic documentation of Hispanic New Mexicans, Nuevomexicanos, taken between 1981-1983 in Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and several northern New Mexico villages. Bubriski turned his attention to New Mexico teenagers. Downtime for them meant cruising and meeting up at places like San Gabriel Park in Albuquerque. He photographed them at the New Mexico State Fair and the First Annual Lowrider Car Show and Dance. He photographed family members of all ages at weddings and dancing at the La Bamba Club on New Year’s Eve. There is a universality to Bubriski’s powerful images. The emotions revealed in his images are timeless; the physical details are a time capsule of the early eighties in New Mexico. There is an intimacy to these images, as well, the subjects, whether looking directly into the lens or away from it, appear at ease with Bubriski and his camera, inviting the viewer in for a closer look. Over three decades later, this resurrected collection of photographs isan evocative cultural documentation of people who proudly trace their ancestry to Spanish settlers who arrived here several centuries ago. These are the faces of Nuevomexicanos por vida: New Mexicans for life. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Bubriski, a New Englander and internationally acclaimed photographer, was a freelance photojournalist when he first arrived in New Mexico in 1981 to study filmmaking in Santa Fe. Bubriski recalls, “Although I was working as a news photographer on my own, I was looking for images that I enjoyed for their own visual merit and innate curiosity.” Bubriski found himself in a new culture as distinct to him as any foreign country he would later photograph. He took his 35-millimeter camera and hand-cranked 16mm Bolex, and began to explore the environs, particularly the neighborhoods of native New Mexicans. Excited by the photographic opportunities, he says, “I went to every fiesta, every parade, every celebration and religious observance.”Look into My Eyes: Nuevomexicanos por Vida 81′-83‘ is a collection of images from that personal exploration, it is a photographic documentation of Hispanic New Mexicans, Nuevomexicanos, taken between 1981-1983 in Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and several northern New Mexico villages. Bubriski turned his attention to New Mexico teenagers. Downtime for them meant cruising and meeting up at places like San Gabriel Park in Albuquerque. He photographed them at the New Mexico State Fair and the First Annual Lowrider Car Show and Dance. He photographed family members of all ages at weddings and dancing at the La Bamba Club on New Year’s Eve. There is a universality to Bubriski’s powerful images. The emotions revealed in his images are timeless; the physical details are a time capsule of the early eighties in New Mexico. There is an intimacy to these images, as well, the subjects, whether looking directly into the lens or away from it, appear at ease with Bubriski and his camera, inviting the viewer in for a closer look. Over three decades later, this resurrected collection of photographs isan evocative cultural documentation of people who proudly trace their ancestry to Spanish settlers who arrived here several centuries ago. These are the faces of Nuevomexicanos por vida: New Mexicans for life. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Bubriski, a New Englander and internationally acclaimed photographer, was a freelance photojournalist when he first arrived in New Mexico in 1981 to study filmmaking in Santa Fe. Bubriski recalls, “Although I was working as a news photographer on my own, I was looking for images that I enjoyed for their own visual merit and innate curiosity.” Bubriski found himself in a new culture as distinct to him as any foreign country he would later photograph. He took his 35-millimeter camera and hand-cranked 16mm Bolex, and began to explore the environs, particularly the neighborhoods of native New Mexicans. Excited by the photographic opportunities, he says, “I went to every fiesta, every parade, every celebration and religious observance.”Look into My Eyes: Nuevomexicanos por Vida 81′-83‘ is a collection of images from that personal exploration, it is a photographic documentation of Hispanic New Mexicans, Nuevomexicanos, taken between 1981-1983 in Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and several northern New Mexico villages. Bubriski turned his attention to New Mexico teenagers. Downtime for them meant cruising and meeting up at places like San Gabriel Park in Albuquerque. He photographed them at the New Mexico State Fair and the First Annual Lowrider Car Show and Dance. He photographed family members of all ages at weddings and dancing at the La Bamba Club on New Year’s Eve. There is a universality to Bubriski’s powerful images. The emotions revealed in his images are timeless; the physical details are a time capsule of the early eighties in New Mexico. There is an intimacy to these images, as well, the subjects, whether looking directly into the lens or away from it, appear at ease with Bubriski and his camera, inviting the viewer in for a closer look. Over three decades later, this resurrected collection of photographs isan evocative cultural documentation of people who proudly trace their ancestry to Spanish settlers who arrived here several centuries ago. These are the faces of Nuevomexicanos por vida: New Mexicans for life. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Bubriski, a New Englander and internationally acclaimed photographer, was a freelance photojournalist when he first arrived in New Mexico in 1981 to study filmmaking in Santa Fe. Bubriski recalls, “Although I was working as a news photographer on my own, I was looking for images that I enjoyed for their own visual merit and innate curiosity.” Bubriski found himself in a new culture as distinct to him as any foreign country he would later photograph. He took his 35-millimeter camera and hand-cranked 16mm Bolex, and began to explore the environs, particularly the neighborhoods of native New Mexicans. Excited by the photographic opportunities, he says, “I went to every fiesta, every parade, every celebration and religious observance.”Look into My Eyes: Nuevomexicanos por Vida 81′-83‘ is a collection of images from that personal exploration, it is a photographic documentation of Hispanic New Mexicans, Nuevomexicanos, taken between 1981-1983 in Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and several northern New Mexico villages. Bubriski turned his attention to New Mexico teenagers. Downtime for them meant cruising and meeting up at places like San Gabriel Park in Albuquerque. He photographed them at the New Mexico State Fair and the First Annual Lowrider Car Show and Dance. He photographed family members of all ages at weddings and dancing at the La Bamba Club on New Year’s Eve. There is a universality to Bubriski’s powerful images. The emotions revealed in his images are timeless; the physical details are a time capsule of the early eighties in New Mexico. There is an intimacy to these images, as well, the subjects, whether looking directly into the lens or away from it, appear at ease with Bubriski and his camera, inviting the viewer in for a closer look. Over three decades later, this resurrected collection of photographs isan evocative cultural documentation of people who proudly trace their ancestry to Spanish settlers who arrived here several centuries ago. These are the faces of Nuevomexicanos por vida: New Mexicans for life. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Stéphane TRALONGO, Section d'histoire et d'esthétique du cinéma Collaboration UNIL-Cinémathèque illustrée par le projet de recherche sur les appareils Bolex.

Jodie Mack is an experimental animator who makes colorful, abstract films with a vintage Bolex film camera. Tag along as she works on a new film and talks about her process.

Getty Images Getty Images makes 35 million images free in fight against copyright infringement via BPJ Getty Images Blows the Web’s Mind by Setting 35 Million Photos Free via Nieman Labs Getty Images Image Embed: Progressive or Destructive? via PhotoShelte Ukaraine Bloody Battles in Kiev via The Atlantic Covering the Russian Army in Crimea via New York Times When Putin met Reagan via Iconic Photos   Gear Digital Bolex Hasselblad officially launches 50MP medium-format CMOS camera via DP Review Red Epic Dragon jumps to top of DxOMark Sensor charts with score of 101 via DP Review CP+ 2014: Canon Interview – ‘We don’t see the smartphone as an enemy’ via DP Review   Leibovitz SUMO Performance Pieces via Vanity Fair Annie’s Big Book via Taschen   Dark Skies + Birds End of Night via Jim Richardson New International Dark Sky Park opens in Michigan via TreeHugger The Murmurations of Starlings via The Atlantic Sebastián Liste wins 2014 Alexia Foundation Grant via Time Light Box High Speed Snapshots of Alcohol by Fabian Oefner via Creators Project DEDPXL via Zack Arias Daylight Reinvents The Experience Of Art Photography On The iPad via Tech Crunch   Oscar Winners Portraits of the Winning Actors From the 2014 Oscar via Time Inside Mark Seliger’s Portrait Studio via Vanity Fair The Unforgettable via New York Times Paging Bradley Cooper’s Lawyers: He Might Own Ellen’s Famous Oscar Selfie via The Wire

David Hoffman picked up his first spring-wound Bolex 16mm movie camera in 1963. Over the next five decades he proceeded to make scores of films on a huge range of subjects: profiles of famous and not-so-famous people; music docs (including BB King at Sing-Sing, Earl Scruggs, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez); political, historical and military docs for public television; documentary-style commercials for Mobil Oil and other companies; and one notorious film that challenged the whole documentary form. He's still at it. David and I discussed his prolific career, his adventures behind the camera and his thoughts on truth and fabrication in documentaries.

6/23/13

6/23/13

6/16/13

6/16/13

6/9/13

6/9/13

Show Intro. News covering IPad Day, TMNT, and Marvel movies at AMC Theatres. Movie review: Movies leading up the Avengers and concerns about the post-Avengers movies. Preview Review: Iron Sky and Tim Burton's new movie, Dark Shadows. Game review: Resident Evil Revelations for the 3DS. Final News covering Quantum Dream's tech demo, Britannica's demise, Joss Whedon, and a digital Bolex camera. Thank you for listening to the first episode of Geekly Dose, recorded on Friday, March 16. We look forward to comments and questions sent via e-mail to geeklydose@gmail.com.

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?

Croncast - 2008-05-02.mp3 Show: #486 Length: 31:00 Size: 21.3 mb Format: mp3 Show us some love and leave us a review at iTunes Special note: Betsy and Jeanie are having a meetup in San Francisco May 21, 2008 at House of Shields 39 New Montgomery St., Time: 6:30 p.m., stop and have a drink or two! Short show notes, sorry The greatest goodwill find of all time Sure it is So was the Kirby vacuum It's a Bolex Video Camera Spooky stuff on this show "How did you know?" I can see you there with two hand fulls of dirt What about the eyeless dolls?