The interesting thing about art is that it’s not literal. Unlike a photograph, a painted image doesn’t represent an actual thing, event, or situation. The viewer has more freedom to decide what’s happening, in a painting. Take this one, for instance:


Do you see a creepy old man, leering as his wife spreads tanning lotion on their innocent-but-nubile teen daughter? Ewww! That would be icky! What a filthy mind you have!

But really, all we know about the sunbather is that she’s got a great butt and that she usually wears a bikini bottom. She could be their slightly-younger unicorn-bisexual-poly dream partner. Maybe she’s using them, because they have incredible sex toys, an awesome swimming pool, and great taste in expensive booze.

Freedom. You get to decide. And that’s a big part of why I love erotic art so much.

Provenance: I’m pretty sure this is cropped from the cover of a sleazy pulp novel. That’s all I got for ya.

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