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Archive for the ‘gifts’ Category

Hoped to finish editing and building this gallery of pictures, but I bit off more than I could chew today with all the other stuff I was doing (working on a project that’s been overdue for YEARS). Anyway, here’s what you (members) have to look forward to:

Looking sweet in white panties & lavender nightgown.

The nightgown was a gift from Nugget so I’m eager for him to get to see the full set of pictures (including pleasurable usage of a pretty silver silicone dong)! I’m so far behind at life though that I guess it was unrealistic to think I would catch up on everything today.

I still need to take a day off for myself this week (or wait . . . this MONTH/year) and tomorrow is really the only day I have. I’m petrified to try it though, because it might make Tuesday and Wednesday suck ass. But they’ll probably suck ass anyway if I don’t take care of myself, so . . . whatever.

I will be incommunicado tomorrow for personal reasons (phones OFF, not checking email, not interacting with anyone but Delia), and the rest of the week for work reasons except for what I post on my site and on twitter.

I should also be getting my period tomorrow or, like, NOW. I really really really hope so, anyway. REALLY.

Wearing only the necklace my 5-year old necklace picked out for me for Christmas:

Natural nude Trixie in winter light

I love this art pendant . . . it’s bright blue with an elephant blowing bright pink colors out of her trunk.

My boobs & Christmas necklace

The sound it makes around my neck and against my clothes when I bend over and stand up again is of a magic toy or a cheap pocketwatch or some kind of emergency medicine. I never would have picked it out for myself, so I really love the surprise of cherishing this treasure.

Pom-pon socks for Christmas!

Taking off panties (LOTS of panty shots in this set!)

See that big wrapped present up in my picture? When we were at the drugstore looking at all of the wrapping paper I thought that silver wrapping paper with the peppermint swirls was perfect but there was one thing I couldn’t figure out:

Me, to Delia: I like this paper and it will look good with the red curtains, but why does it have these big letter “H”s on it?

Maybe the funny part is that is that I thought the paper was perfect for a porn shoot prop and didn’t even realize that the word “HO” was printed all over it until Delia explained it to me.

*****

Here’s Delia getting ready to shoot THESE PICS (which I think are cute as hell, don’t you?) while watching the Madonna “Sticky & Sweet” tour video (and the blog entry is important in addition to the pics; Delia talks about some of the other stuff that’s been going on at chez webwhore):

Delia distracted by Madonna.

Anyway, I’m about to record a vlog for my members then we’re finishing wrapping Christmas presents and packing to spend time with family. Hope you have a rich and fulfilling Christmas!

Get all of my Plump & Juicy Porn PLUS Delia's Site!

Bug necklace dangling near Trixie's ample cleavage

Delia knows exactly what kind of thoughtful presents to give me; she brought home the most awesome present for me:

Scorpion gift box

Nevermind what’s inside . . . the box is super cool!

Opening my little bug box

Look at the shiny, iridescent beetle necklace my girlfriend got me!!

A symbol of true love!

There is a special reason why this pendant made Delia think of me; once upon a time I was a beetle breeder.

In elementary school I was always interested but totally lost and intimidated when teachers sprang special projects on us like building rockets, making volcanoes or constructing cameras out of milk cartons. It’s like I was always absent on the days that the secret instructions were handed out telling us to bring money for those brown motors or maybe it was always the OTHER class that got to do those things. I think the mealworm project studying beetle life cycles was one of those things the OTHER class got to do that I was totally jealous of.

So I did the mealworm project at home. Purely for fun.

My mom would never let me have a pet snake so I guess bugs were the next best thing. Not that I was ever totally unafraid of spiders and such, and I *hated* moths, but I was also fascinated by insects and all the little dark nooks and crannies and tunnels they could explore.

I consulted with my friend Ruth (she was in the OTHER class) to determine what supplies I needed: jars with airholes, oatmeal, apple chunks. I captured my own beetles from the base of our old apple tree in the backyard. It grossed my out a little, the way they skittered around so quickly, but I viewed overcoming this fear as a healthy challenge and soon grew to enjoy the tiny tickles of their little black legs scurrying up my arm.

I thought my ability to unflinchingly let bugs crawl on me was an enviable trait to cultivate that would impress people, like when nobody else in my class wanted to hold and stroke a small, velvety black slug during a field trip to the zoo. I don’t remember why the fuck this zookeeper was teaching us about slugs, but I do remember feeling that I’d found a niche where I could jump straight to the top. So what if I failed at rockets and wanted to cry on field day? I could save face by being an imperturbable slug and bug handler! Plus I kind of liked making girls scream and giggle.

In no time I was observing beetle life in all of its stages. The alien-looking pupae were the most disturbingly mesmerizing. I had to increase my containers to hold all of my grubs, pupae and mature beetles. I didn’t have enough covered jars so I just used different bowls from our kitchen and loosely covered them with plastic. Pretty soon the bedroom I shared with my sister started to smell like dusty oatmeal and decomposing apples, but in my role as omnipotent overlord of the beetles I could watch the beetles’ frenzied mating. They were exposed and vulnerable, driven by instinct to procreate in the open on beds of Quaker Oats.

They were also developing genetic defects because of inbreeding. This was a lesson the limited research of the OTHER class never got around to learning! I tried introducing new beetles to the population, but the rate of abnormalities increased. Soon there were albino beetles, pupae with black lesions, slow-moving beetles that failed to thrive and aggressive, kamikaze beetles hell-bent on escaping the bowls of oatmeal.

One day I looked at the bowls full of beetles spread all over my desk so close to our beds and was suddenly horrified by them. I could learn no more from them and they were on the verge of mutiny.

I had to get rid of them FAST before they overran the bowls and poured out in black waves (dotted with albino white) all over our bedroom. I pushed open a window and started flinging beetles and oatmeal outside. I couldn’t dump them quickly enough . . . they were trying to climb back up the wall outside to get in and seek revenge! I kept throwing bowl after bowl of beetles in various stages of life out of the window, shrieking when they clung to the bowl and started climbing up my arm. I cruelly flicked them off with my fingernails, trying to launch them as far away from the window as possible.

It would have been perfect if I could’ve graduated to snakes or lizards because then I could have fed my beetles to them instead of wasting them all like that. Once, when I was a little older, my mom got mad at me when I screamed after reaching into a bag of potatoes in our dark pantry and pulling out a few maggots on a damp spud. I wish I’d have had the presence of mind to point out her hypocrisy, having the balls to chastise me for reacting to a handful of maggots on our food when she had a snake phobia precluding me from having the best pet of all: a beautiful legless reptile to hang around my neck while reading.

Busty buglover still wants a snake!!

Believe it or not, this is not my only story about bug-keeping. I’ll try to tell you about my other bug endeavors one of these days. . .

Warning: this post might gross out some people, so if a certain word in the title makes you uncomfortable, the rest of this entry will probably heighten your discomfort:

I SO enjoyed my nightgown camshow last month (and had an awesome one the day before, too). I wore a long nightie that always makes me feel SO sexy and SO pretty and such a feminine tease. Someone I worked with years ago gave me three Eileen West nightgowns I never ever would have bought for myself, but now that I have them I want a dozen more:

Big Boobs Look Plush Under Pleated Cotton Nightgown

I guess I just really like the feeling of white lengths of cotton flowing all over my body with no panties or bra (like my long white May Day dress).

Pretty lady in long cotton nightgown looks like a sweet mommy tucking you in.

I *especially* like the way these nighties make my jugs look so generous and mobile and soft with the pleats adding more fabric to accentuate them bursting forward. So so ripe and full.

Modest and non-nude, but suggestive and succulent

In my show it was like poetry, talking about being a lady in a long nightgown, and what ladies in long nightgowns like to do and how their pussies get so wet underneath their long long nightgowns. I felt so pretty and iconically feminine, like if Victoria magazine included porn (never gonna happen, I know). Don’t you just want to push that white cotton up-up-up? And see and smell some soft, furry bush?

Free pics of me from a few years ago in a similar night gown: http://www.trixie.com/tgp/Trixie/see-through-nighty

It’s gross I guess, but I also love how skinny my arms and legs look wearing this nightgown. It’s the most feminine interpretation of skinniness, I think. Everything looks so long and pretty and gracefully awkward compared to everything in the middle looking so abundant and juicy.

It made me want to log in to the pay-to-view camsite I’ve been working and make all the boys want me to be their pretty mommy in her modest white nightgown. It’s such a familiar mommy-in-summer look, the soft cotton wafting faded mommy perfume and hugging hands reaching out on long arms to drawn you in. There’s nothing overtly sexual about it except that it’s all ALL all woman, and the modesty is the most naked you might get. A silhouette if the light is right, a sour-sweet stubbly armpit, some long pale leg if she gathers it up a little to step through the dewy lawn to get the paper in the morning.

It’s a look that provokes powerfully confusing strong feelings in a lot of people of both innocent love and taboo lust.

*****

That day we had more people in members-only chat than we’ve had in MONTHS, which also boosted my spirits terrifically. And really everything started looking up on Thursday when and after we fucked (don’t you think this is true?).

Sleepy mommy-type's big Victorian "dirty pillows"

*****

If you want to get me a similar nightgown or inexpensive night slip to fill out my pretty mommy wardrobe, I have a couple ON SALE on my wishlist! It would be nice to have a couple of new drowsy sleepytime gowns to wear this summer.

*****

I hope to blog more later about 1) the camming I’ve been doing and 2) my own shame, discomfort and conflicted feelings about role plays I get off on.

An affirming read (one of many lately) on recognizing that trying to do it all is TOO MUCH, and making a goal of doing less:

. . . they have decided to not work at the limit of their ability. they are not interested in finding the line that is their maximum output except to be sure that they are much below it. they have decided not to do everything that they could.

“and so” she said “we’re going to see what comes out of the space we’re allowing for”.

this has sat well with me. it is a breath before i eat. it is the light splayed across my wood walls in the morning. it is not trying to do everything i can. even though i’m excited by all the permutations, it’s about looking inside myself to decide the next movement rather than thinking about every possible way i could do everything all the time.

i think i have probably let people down. i still struggle with guilt. i freak out and bolt for maximization at least once a day.

but i’m trying to give my life wiggle room. just barely.

Last night we stayed up until four watched the last four available episodes of Mad Men and today I am reading for pleasure and having my period and thinking inspired thoughts about videos I could make but probably won’t. My hands smell like sweet and salty foods and stiff girly hair products and thick royal jelly eye cream. This feels a lot better than a week ago when I was wound up (again) thinking I had to do everything and all of it had to be perfect.

Every so often (but not today) I get a whiff of a cosmetic scent that reminds me of some little-girl-science-meets-makeup product where you “mixed” your own lip gloss, creme blush, etc. with tiny white spatulas. It reminds me of how exciting it was to go to World of Toys in Bellevue (where rich people lived!) in the seventies and how much crap Daddy compulsively bought us.

I simultaneously long for my childhood sense of entitlement when it came to pressuring him to buy us stuff and am HORRIFIED by the memory of it. It was pretty cool to actually believe that I could have anything I wanted as long as I could convince him to buy it for me and that everything else could be checked out at the library. I’ll bet if I could put my finger on the smell of that toy-makeup stuff or just remember the name of it I might be one step closer to dominating the world, or at least feeling like all of my time belongs entirely to my own pleasure.

Sooner or later I am going to have to detach from the things I want to do a lot, but less than the things I want to do most and am made to be better at than the rest of it. Sooner or later I’m going to have to recognize the futility of guilt. But today I am still just pretending I don’t feel like a failure because I’m enjoying myself.

Tomorrow I should go on a walk by myself and take pictures of apple blossoms on old trees planted by the wives of dead soldiers.

Today marks one of those milestone birthdays for Delia and I wish I could smother her with everything and more than she could possibly ever want:

To the cutest girl in the world: happy birthday, honey!

At the top of her list of desires? BOOBS!

Delia has hormone titties but wants bigger boobies!

After shooting this set of pictures I had one of those moments I *often* have after taking pictures of her of being completely BOGGLED as to her site hasn’t become world famous and made her rich. Seriously — how can you look at her and not think she should be sitting in piles of cash?!? Not that she even wants that — she’s not really into material stuff, but it torments me that all the money she makes on her site and all but a few of our other checks are made out to me to the point where when we filed our taxes she made so little that I was able to claim her as my dependent (we’re not married, but as we discovered this year, I could claim I’m head of household and she’s my live-in sugar baby or whatever “as long as the relationship is not illegal”).

All of that would be fine if we had any spending money, but no — everything of significance goes to running our sites, paying credit cards, trying to pay taxes, and the usual rent and utilities.

I have no diamond ring for Delia, no trip to Disneyland, no little red Corvette in the driveway with a bow . . . and no new boobs. And this all makes me very sad because I am a sugar daddy at heart and totally want to spoil her.

My birthday is next week (on March 17th) and I decided what I want is to be blonde again. It’s as much a business decision as a personal one; I know I said I finally made up my mind and would stay brunette FOREVER, but in these trying times, BRIGHT and SHINY are better. Now that I have more energy and my hormones are headed back towards the right track I can’t help wanting to be blonde again, too.

If any blonde-lovers want to gift me for my birthday and chip in towards my hair makeover, here you go:

If I get MORE than $200 WHOEVER CONTRIBUTES THE MOST MONEY WILL GET AN AUTOGRAPHED COPY OF THE BI APPLE -OR- BEST SEX WRITING 2008 -OR- BEST WOMEN’S EROTICA 2009 (eep! I still need to blog about that) and if I get MORE than $300 EACH CONTRIBUTOR WILL BE ENTERED ONCE INTO A DRAWING FOR A SECOND GIVEAWAY.

Don’t worry — I will email you first to find out a) which one you want (if you want one at all), and b) where/how you want it shipped. If there’s a tie for the highest contributor there won’t be one (I’ll give people an opportunity for a tie-breaker in that case) UNLESS the tied amounts are substantial (over $150) in which case the people tied for highest contributor will each get a prize. People can contribute more than once, and each contribution will count towards a cumulative total for that individual.

I usually spend between $120 and $150 each time I get my hair colored and cut; it’s not worth pinching pennies or trying to do it myself, I’ve learned. The more money I have stashed away for hair, the more frequently I can get it done (instead of ceasing shooting for weeks because my roots are showing, etc.). This time around, as long as my colorist promises my hair won’t all fall out, I won’t do the blonde halfway, either. I will err on the side of too light before I cautiously err on the side of too dark.

NOTE: NO PRESSURE HERE — I don’t *expect* people to lavish me with money and goodies, I’m just giving those who WANT to the opportunity and the knowledge that it would help a lot. And if you want to send something but don’t want it to be about my hair, here’s my Amazon wishlist or my shipping address if you have something else in mind (yes, I love inexpensive things like cards, bookmarks, used books, music mixes, socks, etc.):

Trixie Fontaine
1240 W. Sims Way #7
P0rt T0wnsend, WA 98368

I thought about making it a competition between brunette, redhead and blonde, but I really think blonde is the right decision for now. I’m looking forward to it, especially after this unusually long, cold winter.