I (finally) got my members-only update posted. Here are a couple of samples:
It's photos like this one that make me second-guess my brunette-ness:
And now I must excuse myself from the computer. I have a hot date in bed with a turkey sandwich, if you catch my drift. There'll be no holding the mayo back tonight . . .
Labels: fetishes, hair, nature, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, short skirts
If you follow my twitter
you know I went to Seattle for FootNight
on Thursday thanks to AmberLily
giving me a heads-up about the event and encouraging me to apply with her to be a "foot model". It was a good opportunity to get out of my nerdy hermit bubble and enjoy having my feet fondled (something I've always enjoyed
It was also a good excuse for me to get a pedicure: an expense and investment of time I rarely can justify since I don't specialize in foot fetish porn (though we do try to include at least a few shots of my feet in most of my galleries).
99.99% of the sexually stimulating work I've done has been on the internet or over the phone, starting out with private shows on iFriends
in 2000. Even though I enjoy private shows and phone, I have almost no time to do one-on-one stuff anymore (especially since the camworld is so much different from when I started) but I *miss* it, so attending FootNight was a way to get back to that a little bit while also experiencing something new in a safe environment with an emphasis on something I love: feet.
The rules were very clear for the event (no nudity, foot worship only, no direct sexual contact, no leaving the party with customers and coming back in, etc.) and all of the women were dressed to attend a nice cocktail party or fine art fetish shoot: black turtleneck dresses, shiny black corsets, etc. In my estimation, I was the only one dressed in a way that said, "it's all for sale, boys! I'm a total hussy!" with my blouse buttons bursting, my skirt way too short and my boobs bouncing all over the place. I was also the most nervous person there, I think, next to many of the guests with my knees practically knocking trying to walk up and down the stairs in my unimpressively practical (but still challenging for me) heels and very unsophisticated sweat stains accumulating under my arms. The truth is that I don't have any classy party garb that's also sexy/leg-baring that I can still fit into.
Besides, I didn't want to go to great lengths to "fit in"; I figured it was better to stand out looking like a tramp than try to blend in. On top of that I love upskirts and panties and have much more of that kind of thing than feet on my site so I was excited by the idea of having men on the ground below me able to see right up my skirt to my hot pink and black panties. Even if it wasn't THEIR thing, it's MY thing; I don't get out much and planned to milk the tease for all it was worth.
I don't actually think I have great feet; the only thing I have going for me is that they're exceptionally small, but at the party there were A LOT of women with small feet. Maybe not quite as small as mine, but there were plenty of size five and six chicks there. All that small-foot competition gave me yet another reason to be glad I had a corner on the market for the super-slutty look.
So WAS there a market for it? Not so much, I don't think, but wearing something less conspicuously trashy wouldn't have made a difference. There were a couple of guys who expressed quite a bit of appreciation for the upskirt action, but as far as I know I didn't have guys waiting in line to spend time with me and my feet at $20 for ten minutes. I kept busy and had fun, but probably only gained one new die-hard fan for the future.
The first guy to give me money wasn't even there because he liked feet. He was there on a mission with a bottle of Scotch to try to get back into Lady Lydia
's good graces. He told me he'd been rude to her on the phone so she'd stopped talking to him and all he could hope for is that she would accept his gift, if not his apology.
In the process of relating this to me, he reached into his pocket with defeated contrition, pulled out a twenty and assured me that he KNEW the ONLY reason we ladies were there was to make money. "I know it's all business and I don't want to waste your time." I told him that if he was going to pay me, we should at least retreat to a more private area (ie a different couch farther from the door) so I could make sure to give him the time that he paid for even if he didn't care about my feet or really anything besides Lady Lydia. He and I also agreed that our move and the open exchange of money for time would serve as a model early in the evening for the other guys to take similar steps to secure special attention from the "models".
After forty dollars worth of talking he felt compelled to resume his tortured quest to adequately humble himself to Lady Lydia. Even though it was the first face-to-face transaction I'd made like that, it felt very familiar . . . very natural to the point where I'm sure I'm forgetting a whole lifetime of doing exactly that: being the whore that men pay just to listen. Of course there've been a few other times I've gotten money from men face-to-face for certain things, but the circumstances were less formal and the terms not at all clearcut. No, I don't think I ever blogged about them even though they'd make interesting reading. Much of my limited experience with photographers felt exactly like sex work too, even though they took great pains not to call it that -- not to even call it porn -- and they didn't pay me with money; all factors that made it MORE compromising and awkward than work that's commonly labeled as sex work.
Anyway, Lydia's guy probably only wanted to spend twenty dollars on me out of obligation because I'd practically forced him to tell me his story simply by introducing myself, but my timer's battery wore out making it difficult for me to keep accurate time. I'm still not sure if my unreliable timer worked in my favor or against me; on the one hand I wound up giving people more time than they paid for before I realized the timer had no intention of beeping. On the other, they sometimes paid for more since I would discover this too late for them to turn down the next ten minutes since they were already in progress. We were advised by the party organizers to keep a discreet eye on the time but my timer was NOT discreet AT ALL; I pulled that fucker out at the beginning of every session and beeped in ten or eleven minutes in a very obvious way, nerdily assuring them this would help me NOT be distracted from the fun we could have by worrying about the time while they raised their eyebrows and mumbled that I certainly was . . . prepared. If it had actually worked and sounded an alarm at the end of those minutes, I'm sure it would have annoyed a great many people so maybe it was all for the best.
I felt busy the whole time I was there, but didn't really make enough for the trip to be worth what I put into it between the pedicure, ferry, gas, and time that I could have spent doing more lucrative things (like finishing the years-overdue redesign on my site and Delia's and this blog and . . .). Still, it was worth it to me because it was FUN, super-erotic (I'll elaborate on in another post) and a reminder of how good it feels to connect with customers individually.
It was also worth it to have BigD snap his suspenders at me, "work" with AmberLily to doubleteam a guy with our feet (again, I'll elaborate in another entry), and to meet Lydia (I only realized when I got home that she's the one Ron has told me so much about with so much admiration), Reyja (a fellow Emma Steel), and Mistress Matisse
. We women didn't have much time to stand around chatting with each other, but after so many years of reading Matisse's blog and communicating online even the little bit we have via email and blog comments it felt to me like we were cousins at a reunion. You know how there are people that feel like they're in your life -- that you're related to in some way -- even though you only see each other face-to-face a couple times in your life and rarely interact? That's what it was like being in the same room with Matisse: totally uncommon but still irrationally familiar. In fact, that's what being with customers face-to-face is like. There wasn't anything weird or new about it that I didn't recognize as the same as a million other interactions I've had and kinds of work I've done which is probably what made it so hard for me to accept that I couldn't just climb on top of a couple of these guys and fuck them dry for a few dollars more. Not that any of them asked for that (everything was very above-board, no-pressure, polite, and legal), I'm just saying it's hard for me to accept the stigmas, restrictions, and separateness attached to sex work and all the little subtleties built into some of them so that they can avoid being labeled as such.
Labels: feet, friends, money, PHOTOS, sex work, short skirts, TURN ONS, webwhore insights, worse than porn
We just got back from spending a couple of nights in Portland where we did some shooting and saw Delia
's doctor where she got new prescriptions for higher hormone doses. I started editing a set of photos to post in my members area tonight, but instead of finishing I'm going to call a time out and just giving you this sample:
I am now going to force us to take a couple of days off and promise ourselves to take two days off next week AND the week after that. Normal people expect to have weekends but we're not normal -- working at home, enjoying our work, and feeling a lovely sense of control over our destiny makes it a real challenge to get away. I've kind of been freaking out the past couple of weeks, though, and know that my productivity is down the shitter because I *feel* like shit.
We're not going to go anywhere or do anything fancy, but I am going to get a massage, some exercise, and spend quality time with some books. We are also going to take in the new Ed Harris/Viggo Mortensen movie -- be glad you weren't near me when I shrieked and squealed with crazy Elvis-fan lust when we saw the preview. I cream my panties enough over those guys individually but being blessed yet AGAIN with another pairing of them in the same film is like manna from a very pussy-friendly heaven.
Since I haven't posted anything new of myself for my members in a couple of weeks, it will give me an opportunity to post extra stuff for Halloween! In the meantime, AmberLily
posted one of the sets I shot of her at our house so my members can enjoy that!
Labels: friends, panties, PHOTOS, short skirts
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.
Labels: boobs, natural boobs, nature, nudity, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, PORNOGRAPHY, short skirts
From a gallery I'm posting for members:
Why, yes! I *do* love legwarmers!
I must confess, the gallery is not that great but I think the commentary is hot; I could have written three times as much, but I don't like to make my notes so long that people won't want to read them.
I'm way behind on email, and I'll have to stay behind for awhile since we have to do our taxes this weekend. I did, however, take time to procrastinate on them by watching some college football (not that I'm a sports enthusiast, but I'm not a schoolgirl either and yet I like to dress up as one; it's that time of year and it's FUN). I hung out in our members-only chatroom
while we watched the first half of the game, but alas, no one came in to chat. There's no telling when I'll make it back in there.
Now I need to finish my update and clean off the big table so I can spread out with my receipts, forms, sharp pencils and old-fashioned calculator.
Labels: bare feet, legwarmers, long socks, PHOTOS, PORNOGRAPHY, short skirts