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Archive for the ‘arousal’ Category

Last night I asked Delia which song of the eighties she thinks is more brilliant: Van Halen’s “Panama” or Duran Duran’s “Rio”. I’d love to hear which you prefer or respond to most and why:

I personally don’t want to live in a world without either one of these songs. I fucking LOVE them. I grew up more of a Duran Duran fan, but I didn’t actually appreciate Rio until I grew up.

Maybe I’ll tell you which one I like best after I read some comments comparing and contrasting and singing their praises.

If you’ve never seen the movie Salmonberries you may not have heard of this FUCKING BEAUTIFUL song, so OH MY GOD — here you go:

Is it possible to watch that with a morsel of chick hormones and not be like, “PICK ME, KD — PICK ME!!! I WILL OPEN MY DOOR AND EVERYTHING ELSE GAHHHHHH-hahahaha-CRYING HYSTERICAL TEARS OF INFATUATED DESIRE!!!” ??

Anyway, if I remember correctly the film was incredible, too. Not in a high-production kind of way, but yeah. I miss the days of indie lesbian films. So compelling and awkward.

I masturbate differently in webcam shows for a large group than I do for myself or for private shows.

During group camshows I have a whole hour to draw out the experience. I put on a little makeup and usually wear something that allows me to do upskirts – little nighties, slips, miniskirts, etc. If I have enough time, I love wearing hosiery, especially opaque thigh high socks which is what I wore today: long, tight, stretchy, dark brown socks under a hippy-style sundress with a smocked top which is great for showing off my cleavage and tits.

Because I’m not being paid by the minute to fulfill requests by viewers, the “action” in my group shows is aimed to please me (and, incidentally, other people who have my particular tastes), all slowly paced to fill out the hour. I’m not super-entertaining, I just slide into a groove and enjoy looking at myself doing things I wouldn’t otherwise do: smiling at myself in the camera, and just making myself do shit that makes me hot, like exposing myself in taunting, mostly-softcore ways. I get very mesmerized by myself, like when I show myself (and everybody else) my creamy thighs parting to expose my hairy cunt with that beautiful contrast of the dark socks. I don’t know what it is about that contrast, but it’s fucking irresistible to me. I can watch myself do that over and over again.

We had more time than usual between shows this month so it’s been about three weeks since I enjoyed one of these long sessions; doing these long shows every other week or every three weeks is perfect for me because, without knowing it, I really build up a desire for them. My clit’s had a break from extended time with the hitachi magic wand and it’s been awhile since I really took a good look at myself.

Today I decided not to shower, putting my dirty hair in pigtails instead. It’s been four or five days since I had a shower and maybe only two baths (last night and some other time) during that time. For three days I wore the same pair of sticky, hot-smelling panties. My bush is getting really filled-out again, and every time I go to the bathroom I sniff the crotch of my underwear and play with my cowlicks that come together and curl up where my lips meet. The musky smell of pussy-hair steeped in cunt-sweat is part of what I love about not shaving.

Anyway, it smelled so good today during my show, I just kept petting it and bringing my hand up to inhale, over and over again. Deep breaths, totally drugging myself on that woman-sex smell of myself. I fucking could not get enough of it, smelling it, and watching me on the monitor, stroking myself with my light-pink clit poking out between my dirty-blonde fur and those SOCKS pulled up on my thighs making everything in the middle look so fucking naked and whorey.

I remember the first time I ever rode on Highway 1 through Big Sur, not being able to get enough of that hot sage smell. It doesn’t smell like pussy exactly, but it’s addictive and elevating, like ascending to heaven and being on some other unearthly level in between the ground and meeting God’s secretary while He’s away. I feel the same way about the smell of my musky bush, like if I were to immerse myself in it far enough I would wind up in some other place of knowledge and luxury and a decadent form of peace.

Today while I inhaled I realized the scent on my fingers reminded me a whole lot of crayola crayon wrappers. Not exactly like that, but similar. I always wonder where that Really Perfect Pussy smell comes from, like what the secret recipe is for it to be that perfect all of the time. Was it steeping my hair in dirty underwear so long? Was it the hot apple cider and cashews we had before bed? Was it the flax seed and evening primrose oil? Was it having PMS? Was it the mingling of a favorite lotion with the cunt smell to create a perfect pussy-church combo?

I came three times today with one of the orgasms augmented considerably by the call and response of me being ridiculously horny for myself and crooning, “oh yeah” to myself right before Jimi Hendrix said “oh yeah” at the beginning of Red House. Then . . . brilliant guitar and that was all she wrote.

*****

Right after my show I still felt a little hypnotized. I took a powerful piss, then stumbled into the bedroom where I felt a hot gush of liquid burst through my cunt. I reached down to touch it and came out with beautiful, crimson blood all over my fingers with more than enough left over to streak down my right thigh. I haven’t had such a dramatic start to my period in years.

Last week I was in a hurry to have an orgasm, so I went to *quickly* find a free amateur video of some stranger (ANY stranger) jerking himself off. This video, “A Tribute to Jodie”, looked like a winner so I grabbed my eroscillator, shoved it under the waistband of my sweats, and pressed play.

The “tribute” part of the title gave me a good hint what I’d be watching: a guy at home with his webcam recording himself jacking off onto one of his favorite photos of a camgirl or pornstar. I’ve seen these things before and have always been fascinated by them.

LET ME REITERATE: I was not in the mood to be choosy about selecting the video; I wanted to get off as soon as possible with anything remotely visually stimulating and obscene. As long as it was a closeup of a guy jerking his cock, I didn’t care. For a quick cum, homemade jerkoff videos are surefire winners for me because they’re usually the right length: they get right down to business with no distractions. Even better, there’s an extreme element of voyeurism for me especially when the guy is using a toy (like tiny fake pussies) or in some way sharing a method that is in some way humiliating/exposes more about him than just his cock. I love seeing a guy’s private masturbation ritual. The tribute thing? If I were a guy I would try to keep that secret and would be *totally* embarrassed to admit, let alone SHOW MYSELF OFF, doing it. Because it seems so humiliating to me, I *love* watching it. The notion that some guy is so fucking crazed by his desire to get off that he will DO something so ridiculously contrived and teenage-insane makes me incredibly hot.

Having said that, the LAST thing I want is for someone to record such a tribute to me if they’re planning to inform me of it/beg me to watch it. Noooooooooo, please! NO! Don’t ever do that! If you do, don’t do it expecting me to masturbate to it or tell you that it made me hot. The best you can hope for is that I’ll laugh and thank you for doing me the “honor”. Being put into a situation where I will feel *obligated* to watch it and issue a polite response (or even worse, a big description of how it made me masturbate) would totally ruin the whole thing for me. The whole point of masturbating is to DO IT ALONE, whenever you want to, without having to interact with someone. I do not want other people picking out my masturbation fodder for me because I will get all tense thinking the person expects me to drop everything and go wank. When I masturbate? I do not want to feel obligated to anyone or under pressure to perform or to flatter someone else (especially when they’ve done something as grotesque as defile my image by splattering it with their cum). I don’t want someone watching me while I take my two fully-clothed minutes slouched in my site with my hands down my sweatpants. The last thing I want is someone emailing me over and over again, “have you watched my tribute to you yet? I can’t wait for you to see it!”, or, “oh darn! I missed it! Can you do it again so I can see? After all, I recorded that JUST FOR YOU and I want to see you cum to me while I cum on you! Thanks babes!”

TORTURE!!!!

The whole hot thing about watching videos like these is that they *are* kind of gross. I *don’t* want to be there. I *don’t* want a stranger’s ejaculate on me. I *don’t* want to synchronize our orgasms in real time. The whole point of watching porn, for me, is to NOT be involved with someone else. I can’t lie — there’s definitely a freak show element to the whole thing, and I mean “freak” in the most normal sense of the word; the solitary freak we all have/are when we’re alone (and if you don’t have that freak element to you? I totally cannot relate).

I know all of this sounds crazy given that I have been broadcasting spycams since 2002, so obviously? People DO watch me masturbate! The thing of it is (and always has been) that the reason I do a lot of what I do is because *I* am a voyeur at heart. I offer these things because they are what I seek, not so much because I am an exhibitionist (which of course I *am*, a little, but not to the extent that I’m a voyeur). I know I would like to catch someone at her desk, awkwardly masturbating and not acknowledging me at all. I do not want it to be sexy or a “show”, I want it to be authentic and authenticity is often measured in my book by how ugly it is. The more unattractive it is, the better. As the masturbator? I expect the voyeurs not to try to engage me during this process. It’s *private*. That’s the whole *point*. It’s not supposed to look like porn, it’s supposed to be real, and for it to be real, you cannot interrupt or inject yourself into the scene.

One of the things that continues to be a challenge for me as a webwhore is being able to share my turn-ons without making them sound like an invitation OR an insult. I’m a very solitary, private person in many ways, so I sometimes get overwhelmed trying to preserve alone-time; I wind up going too far in my attempts to maintain distance, to the point where it backfires on me and sometimes hurts people’s feelings. How do I explain that I love watching guys jacking off on ink-rippled homemade print-outs of naked chicks or faces with their mouths open, but that when I masturbate to this I don’t want to turn it into an interactive event? How do I then qualify that to say, “UNLESS you’re paying me to interact with you while you do that, in which case it’s totally hot!” (which is true; if you pay for my time, providing I have ample amounts of it free, then I *prefer* doing shows where I get to watch someone else masturbate; I just don’t want to do that when I have a sudden 2-5 minutes when I desperately need to bust my own private girl nut).

*****

I drafted the above entry almost a year ago and never finished/posted it. Like a lot of public posts about “what makes me horny”, I feel compelled to ruin the hotness by outlining boundaries to preserve what’s left of my . . . personal space, I guess you’d call it.

The weird thing is that not long after I wrote this my feeling about it changed. I became very interested in the concept of guys jerking off on my pictures and wasn’t sure I wanted to send a message totally discouraging it. It’s something I would like to see without them knowing I’m seeing/hearing it. I do not want to be under pressure to respond to it, but in certain situations I think I’d enjoy that, perhaps if the jerker paid for a phone call for me to (gently but pointedly) humiliate him for doing it. Or INSTRUCTED him to do it again. Maybe on the same picture. Because if I were going to TELL someone to jerk off on my picture(s), I’d make sure he knew he’s not allowed to throw any of these photos away. Instead he’d have to keep every single one, including pictures of other women (with a few men thrown in for good measure). And maybe if his printer ran out of ink he’d have to reuse an already-jerked-on print-out.

This idea became so exciting to me, I began to think I’d like to collect videos of people jerking off on our pictures to post in the members-only area TrixiesHouseboy. Or sending us pictures of themselves (a la Philip Seymour Hoffman’s character in Happiness) in front of a whole wall of damp printouts glued up with cum.

Part of me is telling myself you don’t REALLY want to see that, Trixie. You really don’t. And another part is quite certain she does.

I want to pay more attention to seasonal holidays, the weather, rituals and nature so for the past six months or so a lot of our shoots have reflected my focus on integrating those things into our lives. Tomorrow is Fat Tuesday, a day I would never have had any awareness of if it weren’t for having a magnificent pen pal from Baton Rouge when I was a teenager (if he sees this link and then these pictures I’m sure his eyes will melt in their sockets and dribble down his face in tears of horror — I don’t want to do this to you, really I don’t — I only want your Daily Preciousness to get the attention it deserves!) so here are some of my Mardi Gra-tesque pictures from a set I posted for my members today:

It’s hard to procure a lot of beads when you’re already totally naked:

I think I bear a striking resemblance to the superhero version of myself I patched together here.

*****

The photo set might not win any prizes for creativity or eroticism, but for me it was a major achievement — couldn’t have been better. We shot them last night and I edited and uploaded them within two hours and actually HAD FUN doing it. My mind is still blown by how awesome life is when you don’t feel like crap from fucked-up hormone imbalances. I’m not sure how apparent it is in pictures or on cam, but I feel 500% better than I did a couple months ago when getting ready for a shoot was TORTURE, to say nothing of actually doing the shooting itself. My face and neck were all bizarrely fat (even more than is normal for me — seriously, ONE double chin is cute . . . six rolls are not), my lips were thin, there were terrifying dark puffy circles under my eyes . . . it was sheer fucking painful hell. All I can say is THREE CHEERS FOR ESTROGEN!

When I have a few more shoots I like posted, I will post a putrid gallery I’ve been sitting on that epitomizes how wretched and disgusting I felt. Sort of a before and after kind of thing.

*****

Last night after we did all of that, Delia was “in the mood”. After I spent about ten minutes rambling about my curiosity regarding hemorrhoids and whether or not I have one, she politely asked if I would like to engage in sexual intercourse (probably as a counter to my repeated invitations to her to inspect my anus). I clapped my hands together and cried, “get the lube!”

After that it was actually sexy. You might not be able to imagine how, but you don’t have to. That’s our private joy . . . just between the two of us. And our voyeur cams, of course.

You notice certain physical changes when your hormone balance shifts. Like I knew my boobs would get bigger & more sensitive getting back on the pill and all the other stuff I’m taking/doing.

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.

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!

These pictures of me in a blonde wig outside in the snow with a blue sky turned out almost exactly how I wanted them to be:

I’ll be posting the full gallery of over one hundred pics for our members next week.

Tonight it’s my turn to be the photographer shooting a Christmas gallery and video of Delia. We’re off to a late start due to the severe winter storm warning we’re under here in western Washington; it just started snowing again and is supposed to keep going for the next five days. In our town we’re being hit by stuff coming in from the west AND the south, so it might get really windy. Don’t be surprised if our voyeur cams go down and you don’t hear from us for a time — it will just mean we lost one or both of our internet connections and/or power.

The streets are already coated with ice so Delia made sure we went to the store to stock up on everything we’ll need if we can’t get out for a week. Of course we’ll still be able to walk, but I got a blister on the bottom of my foot a couple of days ago when we had to go downtown and thought it safer to walk than drive; my Payless snow boots are cheap and don’t fit me well so I don’t want to have to trudge for miles to lug home heavy groceries.

We’re staying home alone for Christmas; I’ll miss seeing our nephew, but I think it’s better for us and our whole family if we’re not on the road. Actually, I’m really missing Delia’s family right now; I love spending Christmas at her parent’s house. It’s the only place I’ve been in the past six years where I don’t feel compelled to work. I plow through books, I masturbate in bed, we come down with colds and flu, and somehow it’s just a huge, relaxing vacation (for me, at least — unfortunately, Delia isn’t as aroused by our bedroom being located right next door to her parents as I am).

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

Members CLICK HERE for gallery. | non-members: JOIN HERE for access.

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.