TastyTrixie.com

Archive for August, 2008

Last night I posted the first set of pics from the room with purple walls; here are a couple of my favorites:

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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.

Our stay in the Victorian bed & breakfast (they call it a hotel so you’ll know they don’t serve breakfast, but for your visualization purposes imagine more of a B&B than a hotel) was productive, but we didn’t manage to completely avoid being “caught” doing our sneaky porno shooting. But first, there was an earthquake!

While I was sitting on the floor against an outside wall shooting Delia on the bed, it felt like a truck drove into the house and made us sway back and forth on the second floor a few times. It excited us but we weren’t sure whether or not it was an earthquake, mostly because we’d just had a conversation the day before about how often we wake up in the middle of the night and IMAGINE there’s an earthquake. It was just too much of a coincidence, having discussed our earthquake paranoia so recently. Plus, it didn’t feel like most little earthquakes in Washington which are usually like rumbling underground tummies. Instead it was like a 3 second excerpt of the middle of the big earthquake we had a few years back with swinging, swaying, flexy building movement. I considered going downstairs to find out who else felt it, but we kept shooting instead. Maybe it felt unusual we because we were only three miles from the epicenter. Anyway, I know it’s “nothing” compared to what Californians frequently experience, but for us it definitely is something else. Little ones are always a reminder of how vulnerable we are up here in the subduction zone to having a really devastating earthquake, or even just another like last time which was pretty fucking exciting and freaky (it made me positively GIDDY!). We also live in a town with buttloads of fresh tsunami warning signs, so we do have frequent reminders to be scared shitless of earthquakes.

The next morning when housekeeping knocked while we were sleeping I loudly dismissed her, firmly informing her “WE DON’T NEED ANYTHING”. Later that afternoon while Delia was at home checking on the dog and I was out at the grocery store picking up snacks, the “innkeeper” must have decided to do some housekeeping himself; I came back to our room only to discover our door wide open and our bed made. The fellow hurried down the hall toward me and noticed the look of consternation on my face, explaining, “I was just emptying your wastebasket; I think everything is all right.”

The way he said “I THINK everything is all right” sounded to me like he noticed our light stands, colorful cheap corsetry & lingerie scattered around, the way I’d moved an obnoxious framed snapshot from one dresser to another, and the conspicuously absent “checkout time is at 11 am blah blah blah” printout that had been taped up on the particularly photogenic doors. He was saying, “I needed to investigate your activities and have noticed many things are suspiciously askew, but I guess since you haven’t pulled the chandelier out of the ceiling I’ll let it slide.”

I was pissed.

The only consolation was seeing Delia’s cum-streaked black stockings on top of the bed; he’d moved them to make the bed, then put them back on top of the covers where I’d left them. If someone wants to go poking around in our stuff they deserve to encounter some unexpected bodily fluids; normally I would pick up/put away stuff like that if I’d indicated we needed maid service, but I had no reason to think someone would be inserting himself into our room and fondling our underwear.

None of this would be such a big deal if we didn’t live in such a small town where word can spread like wildfire amongst the “innkeepers” or if we didn’t want to have the option of returning to certain places to shoot again. I don’t actually blame people for being concerned that someone’s up to no good in their homes/mansions/hotels, it’s just not very convenient for us. I would like to be up-front and honest about what we’re doing, but it’s just not an option; I only know one person who tells vacation rental owners what she’s doing when she goes to shoot, and her stuff is more politically correct than what we do. Everyone else we know shoots overtly pornographic stuff, and none of them inform people what they’re doing when they rent places or pop into hotels to shoot. People who genuinely aim to shoot “fine art nudes” (or at least exude the pretension of artistry) probably have an easier time of it, in part because it seems quieter and less scandalous AND because people don’t assume artists are rich enough to pay extra for locations whereas everyone assumes pornographers are rich because SEX SELLS, not art. I’m not just worried about being blacklisted, I’m worried about people charging us more to shoot in their places.

Apparently there are often regulations, local ordinances, etc. and fine print stipulations in rental agreements forbidding doing commercial shooting without permits and/or permission; I think most of it is written with film in mind, but it’s something few people realize, but could become more and more (or less, maybe) of a visible legal issue with so many people making photo and video content that then appears online. I don’t know all of the ins and outs about it and would like to think when the “innkeeper” invited us to wander around and take pictures, his words could be taken at face value, but honestly I would prefer not to broach the issue at all. I’m sure everything’s fine, but it does worry me a little. On the other hand, I feel very much that HE did something wrong by going into our room after I’d said, rather clearly I thought, we didn’t want any housekeeping. I feel that if someone discovers we’re moving furniture around or doing slightly kinky things with cameras BECAUSE THEY INTRUDED ON US (and fail to have “do not disturb” signs the way most places called “hotels” do) rather than because we broke something or made a bunch of noise, then they are more in the wrong.

I know some of you are reading this thinking I’m being totally paranoid, but I’m going to bet you either a) live in a city, and/or b) are more resourceful than I and/or have more resources at your disposal so you aren’t worried about finding alternatives, and/or c) your job is not the same as mine.

In spite of the intrusion (and maybe because of the earthquake) we had a grand time. We weren’t at all tempted to run away home to sleep this time. I *loved* our two nights in a strange bed, even with the walls being paper thin (this should be a hint to you that we didn’t shoot any noisy couples action, or even any quiet couples action). It was all very softcore except for a couple of Delia’s cumshots, and if I were the innkeeper I’d be happy to have us as patrons because the other guests? They were way louder than we were!