BB's dirty thoughts Jan.2

Bond films hold a particular place of love for action lover and sensualist (myself, certainly- et tu?) there's the sensuality and suspense, the chase sequences and the dangerous beauties,

(Famke Jannson as Xenia Onatopp, Eva Green's Vesper Lynd, Honey Rider's infamous be-knifed bikini, and perhaps my favourite, Sophie Marceau. Denise Richardwho?)

and the jaw-dropping gowns to accompany them (De la Renta, Alexandre Vauthier, Jany Temime's mesh backless creature in Skyfall, and Lindy Hemming, responsible for So many Bond girl gowns, including Marceau's red-sequinned casino gown),

the (CLASSIC!!!) cars and the gadgets.

(Who could forget the Ford Mustang Mach 1 that Connery drug through 1971? The Toyota 2000 GT that was turned into a convertible because Connery didn't fit? The BMW Z8 next to Sophie Marceau was enough to cement my DEEP love for the World is Not Enough, despite it being one of the less loved films- for me, the tragic, twistedly kinky element and Marceau's powerhouse of acting skill cemented my love permanently. And, of course, the classic Aston Martin DB5, and it's descendant, the bespoke Aston Martin DB10.)

But immediately after those things, what do we think of? Location, location, location. Humble cobbled streets in white-washed beach towns, grand, sophisticated art deco buildings with breath-taking views, dark wood and beveled cushion bars, and gods, all that glassware reflecting some of the world's greatest nature and architecture.

There are a Great many reasons I travel as frequently as I do, but being that this is a sensual conversation, we will focus on one aspect of it: to look out at something grand and beautiful as I kiss, make love, and fuck.

Now, not that I can- or should- focus on the outside world during intimacy. If I have enough focus to pick on details of my high rise view or the ocean sweeping the shore, then my lover is not doing their job. Likewise, if I have a bottom, it is my Rapt Focus to make sure they are very much along for the ride with me and can't focus on anything other than the magic in my fingertips.

But that moment, that sweeping moment when you're both (or collectively ;) ) spent and, reaching for a your half-consumed glass of champagne, or, better yet, water (sweet, sweet water), you catch the fading lights, the glint of headlights like jewels, the torchlights in the distance, the snow on the mountains, the flap of wings from gulls below, the timeless old gods that are great and ancient trees, the steam rolling off the hot tubs, the painted sunset... whatever the breathtaking view may be, for that dizzy, spinning moment, I achieve pure happiness; I am alive, I am sexual, I am somewhere too few get to see, I am free.

I am so excited to be flying again in two weeks. <3 I LOVE LA like few other things.

In photos: all places I've personally been.