My name is Trixie (aka TastyTrixie). The Wandering WebWhore is my personal blog. I'm a 30-something indie pornographer whose journal covers a variety of topics: mundane daily life, work-related reflection, sex stuff, current events, and more.
Anyway, back to MY butt . . . I love that outfit but I'm going to have to cull a lot of photos from the set; there are things I love about being chubby, and other things that make doing this work a lot tougher when I am. Sadly, when I feel unhappy with seeing my double chins and belly rolls in pictures, it only makes me want to get into bed with a trough of mashed potatoes and gravy and SHOVEL IT IN AS FAST AS I CAN. With a fucking tub of greasy stuffing with giblets and just the fatty skin from the turkey.
But yeah. The good pics are better because of the weight. But there are just more BAD pics, is the problem. So this might be a smaller set than usual.
I tossed and turned for hours last night and eventually got really aroused so I woke Delia up slowly by playing with her nipples, first over her shirt and then under her shirt. Then I rearranged her arm, spreading it out along my pillow so I could nestle against her and start sucking her tits, moving my hand down to play with her cock (which I eventually sucked too, but just a little because mostly I wanted to fuck her).
Almost every single doorknob in this house is busted or only half-works, including the one to our bedroom. With the windows open in the house all night to keep us cool in the warm weather, our bedroom door gets sucked open and slammed shut. Last night a phantom breeze opened so I let it stay that way even though my mom was asleep in our guestroom down the hall. I knew she wouldn't wake up, but still tried to be quiet. For once it was Delia instead of me who couldn't be quiet. Her boobs are SO sensitive.
Sometimes when I can't make noise during sex it sucks, and other times it allows me to focus even more on the sensations I'm feeling. Like last night when I came. Hard, clamping down. And then made Delia come inside me.
I still couldn't fall asleep so I sort of meditated on the feeling of stickiness where my ass cheeks meet my thighs and smelling my pussy and her semen all mixed together on my fingers. Eventually I turned on my booklight and looked at my fingertips shining from the moisture reflecting the blue light.
We had a really nice visit with my mom who drove all the way out here spontaneously to spend a couple of days with us. It worked out well without any other family here and with the weather nice enough to get out of the house. My mom needs to have activities and I guess so do I when we're together because otherwise all of the chatting winds up getting to me. We tired her out with a long walk and before that I took out an instructional stretch DVD, one that I've given her a copy of along with a yoga mat but that she never uses (I used to call her every day to ask her if she'd done it, but it didn't help her and just seemed to make her feel guilty). I worry about her lack of flexibility because she's getting older, but mostly because I know how much better *I* feel when I spend even a little bit of time stretching on a regular basis. I wanted her to see how easy it is just to do five minutes of it without going all crazy and still get something positive out of it.
Later we got on the subject of Bea Arthur dying and my mom started crying. My mom is now the same age as the characters were on The Golden Girls. She said it seems like it was just yesterday that show was on and now Dorothy and Sophia are dead. She said it made her realize how little time she might have left -- what a small window of opportunity she has. My hypersexed mom even admits that now she sometimes gets sick of her boyfriend wanting to have as much sex as he does.
I don't know if it was because of that in part or in whole, but last night my body felt powerful and I felt younger than I have in a long time. I felt supple and juicy and ripe and full of energy. I felt like my body was tall and everything was in line. My breasts felt big and ripe and heavy and swinging. I felt like an hourglass with the top and the bottom perfectly balanced. I actually felt graceful instead of unwieldy when I climbed on top of Delia. I felt potent and came fast without getting out of breath.
I was still awake later while they were asleep. I crept around the house. I made something to eat in the kitchen. I looked at the moon mostly hidden behind the clouds and a bright planet that must have been Jupiter sparkling to the east of it.
I'm like my mom in a million ways, but unlike her in a million others. Mainly I am just younger than she is. I guess it should be hard to see my mom struggling with her own life changes and not knowing where she's going -- it IS hard -- but I also can't help celebrating, first that she seems more focused on one important thing instead of a million trivial distractions from the one thing and second, celebrating myself and where I am and what I have and all that I still have to look forward to. That my mom has challenges, but she STILL has a lot of opportunity and a lot of growth and good health to enjoy and grapple with (and I have all of that to look forward to also -- but MORE of it). That she is better off than her mom is and was at her age. And that I'm so so SO much better off than either of them were when they were mine. Inside and outside and in every conceivable way. And that makes my life and my body and where and how I'm living them feel like a huge evolving miracle that I have a RESPONSIBILITY to celebrate partially on their behalf, fucking and walking and dancing.
Was it watching "ladies" figure skating last night that got me all horny? I don't know, but I couldn't sleep and tried to masturbate quietly enough not to wake up Delia, but since I was wearing earplugs myself I couldn't really tell if I was making noise or not.
The train of thoughts leading there seemed to pick up where my post about tribute jack-offs left off. I started imagining a teenager playing Yahtzee and then trying to decide which girl's face to ejaculate on in his yearbook. Then there was something about a good dog and a bad dog (I think it was a white German Shepherd) and by that time I was so worked up I took out my earplugs and asked Delia if she was awake. AND SHE TOTALLY WAS! I still don't know if she knew I was masturbating, but I stopped at that point anyway.
To reach over and fondle her boobs. I really should write a whole blog entry (or book) about Delia's New Boobs. They're pointy and swollen and puffy and my right hand goes back and forth from one to the other until I start using my mouth.
I'd love to tell you all about it but I honestly don't feel like getting all worked up again. If you're one of our members and heard it on the spycams (sorry I forgot to turn on the nightvision last night) then you know it was hot. I was shaking. We fucked and then we spooned.
Here are a few spookily-costumed samples from the gallery I just posted for members:
I'm going to keep the most lickably pink shots private/just for members this time around.
Delia never complains about being in pain; since I met her seven years ago she's only mentioned something hurting her a handful of times, one of them when she had salmonella poisoning. This week her back's been bothering her and getting worse, to the point where she couldn't even sleep on our soft mattress last night (so soft she thinks that's one of the culprits) so I didn't quite get all of my Z's either (it's so weird to wake up and not have her there beside me in bed) so I'm going to try to take a nap now since we'll probably be up late having fun with our company tonight and the rest of this weekend. I want to be well-rested to fully enjoy their visit!
I'm noticing physical changes this time around in my cunt. Aside from the usual increased lubrication extra estrogen gives you, it *looks* really puffy and fat and smooth and pink. I hesitate to say this, but it looks younger.
The really awesome part is I think it's making my g-spot and perineum spongier, more sensitive and erotically charged. During my shows today and yesterday my orgasms were really thick, rocking cunt-focused things instead of little pointy tip-of-the-clit climaxes. I love all kinds of orgasms, but it's always thrilling to experience a variety of them or notice a recognizable shift in sensation.
One of the downsides is the visible part of my clit is shrinking. I was really disappointed to look down last week and notice how much smaller it is than a month ago in spite of having so much less hair. I really like it when it sticks out more and am intrigued, shall we say, by women who have large knuckle-like clits.
Delia's therapist isn't a fan of hormonal birth control and the way it can flatline some women's sex drives, but the benefits of having more chick hormones is such a huge relief to me on so many levels I can only look at the bright sides and wonder how many of them there are. Like, has anyone done any research into the hormone balances of women who squirt versus those of us who don't or rarely do? I wouldn't be surprised to find out that squirters are more estrogen dominant.
I decided to experiment with having auburn hair & a tiny bit of blonde foiled into my brunette. It's not really as bright as it looks in the picture, but it's still remarkably different from what I usually ask for. Brunette still trumps all, though, so I'll be going darker/less red again next time around though I'll definitely trust my new hair girl to do whatever she thinks is best (which she says is another foil adding in low lights of mahogany).
I do think the auburn suits me a lot better than blonde ever did and looks better with my skin, but it still doesn't feel like "me" the way dark brown does or even blonde did at times or the way I imagine silver/grey will in the future.
In other boring facelift blabbering, I shaved off my armpit hair and the pubes on my thighs and labia, and I'm in the process of picking out some new eyeglass frames; it's tough, because there are a lot of them I like and I would love to wear glasses more often (the ones I have now are an old prescription so I don't see perfectly with them). To make choosing easier, I'm fairly limited in options because of the strength/thickness of my lenses. No wire frames, squared-off or open-bottomed styles for near-sighted, astigmatic Trixie.
That's all I have time to blog about right now; I've got period cramps and a lot of stuff to do (editing photos and videos we shot this week and building promos that NEED to be done asap) before the weekend when we have shows and chat scheduled. I'd also really like to take some time out to go see a movie.
My mom passed her DNA for knockers down to me and also taught my sister and I how to deal with the problem of having one nipple/areolar complex erect and bumpy with the other one soft:
One time as we were about to leave a public restroom my mom noticed she had one stiff nipple and paused before exiting to stimulate the other one over her shirt so they would match. She did try to get bras and shirts that would prevent them from being super obvious, but when those failed to do the trick (you'd need armor to guarantee 100% no-poke-through) she felt compelled to make both of them stick out if one was being stubborn anyway. Nipples do get hard sometimes when you pee so . . . yeah. I hadn't just peed in the photo above, but I'd given one boob more attention and didn't realize how obvious it would wind up being in the picture. Clearly I am not as conscious of these things as my mom is. Or maybe I'm just not as sensitive? Hmmm . . . well, there's some suggestive kinkiness for the portion of my audience with a special interest in big boobs, nipples, and . . . other things.
I would love to stay up and finish editing this set of photos for members, but it will be better if I get back in bed and disconnect. PMS is in full effect and I woke up an hour too soon. I got a late start this week when I got a headache Monday and spent Tuesday recovering and trying to prevent more headaching. Now the hormones are kicking my ass and making me act/feel like a monster so I'm going to call the amount of work I did today "good" and say goodnight. Tomorrow members can see the rest of the curves and long socks and a sparkly dildo and furry beaver and underarms (not to be hairy much longer, though I'm sure I'll grow it back out again in the future, but that's why we shot this set in black and white: to really show off my bush).
Late last night we fucked while I fondled my new toys: Delia's growing boobs. I dare you to not be jealous of me for getting to play with emerging, swollen boobies while getting fucked by your girlfriend's she-cock. Some people might call it convenient. I call it "barely legal". And myself? I call myself "lucky" because right now she's making us a Christmas meatloaf. Food and fucking -- what more could you ask for on Christmas? Simultaneous orgasms? Well we had those, too.
I love taking pictures of this bird feeder in our backyard at different times of day/year (no, we don't put bird food in it; it's a relic left behind by past owners):
Happy holidays to everybody -- here's to celebrating in as many safe, happy, and (mostly) healthy ways as possible with big loads of hot gravy on top!
Last night we stayed up way too late, but it was worth it to catch up a little on something we haven't had enough of lately: SEX. Watching/listening to Daniel Lanois (see below) put me into a magic place, and reaching over to feel Delia's semi-hard cock made fucking her totally irresistible. I alternated between stroking her cock and feeling her swollen, growing boobs before I got on her and came two times to her one. The whole thing was super-intense, partly because it's been a couple of weeks but mostly just because it IS.
It's super windy here today with a projected snow storm rolling in; I think we lost power last night so most of our cams went (and stayed) down until we got up. Don't be surprised if it happens some more over the next week. I *hope* it won't interfere with the shows and chat we have scheduled this weekend, but if it does? You'll know weather is the reason.
Enjoy the full moon tonight, if you can. It will probably be clouded over here.
I'm going to make myself keep exercising because it's paying off after a week of being consistent; I feel a lot better already. I did fall off the wagon yesterday and tried to tell myself getting a massage was AS GOOD as getting exercise, but sex and backrubs really aren't all that aerobic so if I want to keep feeling good, I need to do some physical work tonight.
I have galleries to post for members, but honestly I don't like them enough to post them right now so I'll put something else up and we'll shoot something better.
While I let bigger (and possibly better) blog entries stew, here are a couple of images that might fall into the "bigger" and "better" categories:
In my last post I mentioned experiencing some bumpy emotions as I struggled to adjust my priorities and let go and cut back, at least temporarily, some stuff; in the days since that post I've emotionally adjusted, too. I now feel very content and optimistic about my new focus and happy to release myself of certain self-imposed obligations.
I'm being annoyingly vague, I know, but I just want to share that I feel happy and hopeful about my person(al life), relationships, business . . . where I'm/we're at and where I'm/we're going. It feels boringly repetitive to blog about them ("hasn't Trixie said this a million times in the past seven years?"), but periodic realignments are necessary in life; sometimes the adjustment process is stressfully turbulent (even when the changes are positive, like when the person you love stops drinking or when you're forced to recognize -- AGAIN -- that you aren't superhuman after forgetting since the LAST time you were faced with that conclusion) but once you get used to it a whole new field of possibilities emerges and there's . . . relief. And joy. And after some rest? New good things. More awesome. Progress made. Love shared. Delicious sappiness.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that things are good here!
A couple of samples from the gallery I just posted for members:
I don't think I'd feel like I need to lose fifteen pounds if we could afford for me to specialize in long line girdles and corsets.
Speaking of what we can/can't afford, I know that I need to cut some obligations out in order to have time to really tweak and market our sites appropriately. For some reason I'm having a really difficult time deciding which things I need to stop doing, at least temporarily. I've been freaking out a lot and feeling anxious/overwhelmed. I don't think my priorities are set in a way that's effective and it's hard for me to rearrange them and then accept that the things at the bottom will have to be trimmed off. I am trying to do it all (and have been for too many years) and it's just not working. I'm sucking at everything and not really focusing my best efforts on the things I'm actually GOOD at and the things that make the most money.
It's hard for me to let go.
One of the things I realized this month (besides that we NEED to take days off) is that we will have to 1) limit the number of miles we drive/trips we take each month and/or in rapid succession and 2) make sure visiting family doesn't get sidelined in that equation in favor of work or friends. It's not because of fuel costs, it's because we live so far away from everyone that the HOURS spent in the car NOT working (except to fuck up my back/body) cost too much, plus it breaks my heart going for such long stretches without seeing my nephew. I also had a major meltdown awhile back with extreme guilt over neglecting to visit my grandma in over a year. Long story short, I'm stressed out and tossing ideas around in my head to reduce that stress.
Eventually I am going to have to learn how to forgive myself for not being able to do everything, and allow myself to succeed working from a shorter/different to-do list.
A few photos from my most recent members-only gallery (which I think is totally charming, by the way, and I don't say that about ALL of my pictures):
I was pretty proud of our efforts in getting up early to shoot outside before the light got all freaky. Mostly I'm posting these pics though so you'll have visual reassurance that I'm not having a nervous breakdown or anything. I'm so happy just to have boobs!
Somewhere between this entry and the one before it is the truth.
I think I'm on electronic overload since we got home. There's a certain feeling I get in my head, throat and upper chest when I've been talking on a cell phone, listening to an ipod, sitting too close to a webcam, or just having too much computer time; it's like metal and static inside me, almost like the taste of static if static had a flavor (and if I had taste buds all throughout my upper body). I don't think I've ever gotten it from cameras, but other things -- yes. Maybe I have it right now because of the new laptop. Maybe it's emitting some weird . . . something. Probably it's the noise and the frequency of the noises, but it feels more like it's the heated metals and plastics and ozone scents (which I like at first, but then feel like they're seeping into me).
Today's show day; I did anal (always a hit) during my first show then Delia and I had a long, relaxed, pleasurable sex session on our spycams. Now she's about to do a show then I have another one tonight. It's funny how sometimes doing webcam shows makes me not want to do anything else sexual that day, and other times it totally charges me up. Today was one of those days where the show definitely augmented my non-show sex drive.
As I've mentioned before, I do a poor job of rewarding or even acknowledging myself when I've met goals or done a good job on something; I tend to want to just go on to the next thing. It's not that I'm never proud of myself, it's just that I don't really soak the feeling up long enough. The other day I decided to do something about that to start the new month off properly; I made a list of my accomplishments for July and progress I made on certain monthly goals. While we only met our sales goals five days out of the whole month, I got confirmation that my only derogatory item on my credit report was removed after I contested it in June. I also have a new goal to blog at least fifteen times a month and managed to exceed that with twenty-two blog entries (spread over a number of blogs, not just this one) and four vlogs for members. We also exceeded our goals for shooting content.
We also have a goal to take four days off (REALLY completely off, the whole day) per month. That's one that we didn't achieve in July, but whatever. You can't accomplish everything, right? Even if it's scheduling leisure time. I also failed to have four hardcore email catchup days (or really to respond to much email at all).
The cool thing about going through this ritual of accomplishment-listing is it's also an opportunity to remind myself what my goals are. Not that I want this month to go by quickly, but I'm looking forward to going through this process again when September hits us.
The book isn't full of erotic fiction, it's an anthology of extremely provocative non-fiction pieces covering sex from challenging and unusual (but important and relevant) perspectives. Rachel Kramer Bussel edited the collection (and is looking for submissions for 2009).
Check out Audacia Ray's video review of the book to get a better idea of my piece and the book. When she says "period porn" she is not talking about porn featuring people dressed up in anachronistic costumes; she's talking about the the porn you find on BloodyTrixie and EroticRed.
For me, the best part of being included in this anthology is getting exposure to a topic that at first glance seems very "special interest" (the freedom to make and sell porn featuring menstruation) but really challenges people's assumption that we live in a country where free speech is protected, women own their own bodies, and capitalism rules. We don't. It's exciting to know that more people are going to be exposed to the marginalized truth that fringe-dwelling pornographers like myself live every day.
The stand-out parts of the book in total are its depth of exploration and diversity of topics; a lot of mainstream media coverage of sex is so shallow, boring and repetitive. So much that we read and hear about sex is either a) entertainingly dismissive or b) hyper-judgmental fear-mongering. It's usually some dumbed-down story to get ratings or clicks presented by people who really don't know what they're talking about. Sex is held at arm's length and treated as something that doesn't effect "real" life (except in a predatory way) or Matters of Serious Consequence.
I love the idea of people being shown by this book that THEY'VE BEEN MISSING OUT on fascinating, puzzling, and complex stories of personal and political import. This book is loaded with surprises and challenges while maintaining its readability. Each piece's tone and subject is so different from the others that it makes me feel giddy hoping people will realize they've been gypped by not being told more stories like these before. The contents of Best Sex Writing 2008 show the field of sex journalism's enormous scope in a way that makes it impossible to dismiss as fluff.
I'M HOLDING A DRAWING AT THE END OF MARCH TO WIN AUTOGRAPHED COPIES OF BEST SEX WRITING 2008:
How to enter: Email me with your username and mailing address stating you want to be in the drawing. I don't want to automatically enter everyone with a membership since some people may not even want the prize or may not have a safe address to receive parcels from webwhores.
How many: If more than one hundred (100) members email me to be in the drawing, I will draw for a second book. If more than 200 members email, I'll draw three (and so on). That way people will at least have a 1/100 chance (or better) of winning no matter how many new people join our sites.
Watch the drawing: Tuesday, April 1st at 4 PM Pacific Time on our spycams and in our members-only chatroom.
Last night we had sex almost purely for the fun and pleasure of it (rather than as an obligatory conception attempt). I rubbed some Skin Trip lotion all over my face and neck, then all over Delia's face and neck. It smelled like a hundred hot, tangled-up memories from the past eight years. We lit candles so the light had the same quality as the light in a million indistinguishable, pleasant past-times. I put on music from albums I've had since I was a teenager. I would say that it made me feel young again, but that's not quite accurate; I think it made me remember that I used to be younger than I am now. It was like visiting myselves from years past. It was sweet.
I was really excited about having my boobs touched through my t-shirt, excited about looking down at them stretching out the thin fabric, watching them being groped and jostled and making the material covering them crease, tighten, tense, release. Excited about having them pressed upwards and jiggled around. I was adamant about having them fondled up to and throughout my orgasm. In the moments before and during, I was thinking about touching this girl's nipples, imagining both having them as her and touching them as a him. I got off on it, guiltily, because that's the hottest way for me in my head.