TastyTrixie.com

Archive for the ‘voyeurism’ Category

We shot a whole set of bushy pictures specifically to recreate one yummy vision of my bush visible beneath the hem of my short red skirt:

HNT: bush below short skirt from behind/bent over

I can’t overstate how fucking hot that image is. It could never get old/unsexy to me no matter how many variations of this pose and similar ensemble I were to be exposed to.

You can check out more Half Nekkid Thursday pics for this week here (links are in the comments).

Here are a few teaser thumbs to give you an idea of what the whole set is like up in my members-only area:

showing off my muff for members

I’m not hairy right at the moment, but I will be again (and in the meantime will shoot more “smooth” stuff for people who like it that way while also trying to keep things furry with stuff we shot during hairier times). I would like to get enough shaved content shot and queued up that I could have time to grow everything out again ALL THE WAY including my armpits and alternate between hairy and smooth updates because I am genuinely aroused by a variety of body hair “styles”.

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Note to members: we have camshows and members-only chat scheduled Friday – Saturday. Speaking of chat and cams, we’re in the process of making some slow improvements to our main spycam plugin. For now the only visible change is that we’re using “our” chatroom on that site now, so our members-only chats will be held there right on site. In the past that site was leased to other members-only areas so we weren’t able to “steal” their members by talking about our own sites. For now that’s not a problem.

In the long run we hope to have at least two or three different versions of that site (one for camgirls’ members, one for affiliates to promote and one non-compete version for leasing) and get the software and user interface improved to make it profitable again. We are still in the planning and fundraising stage and there are still quite a few unknown factors and variables. Overall, though, we’re very excited about the possibilities of realizing the long-overdue potential of our favorite adult spycam site. Fortunately we are not doing it alone; Mina and Joe are equally committed. UNfortunately, all of us are already attempting to do way too many jobs so we can’t focus nearly enough attention on this particular project.

Our spycam and behind-the-scenes portal for our members, SpyOnUs.com, for example, is now a big hot mess that I’m not sure how to fix. I hope to tidy up a few things before Saturday’s chat session, though.

How long can I feel this super groovy? I hope a looooong time! The memory/deja vu/hopeful-excited-magic feelings I mentioned last week are still here and I feel GREAT. So great that I’m almost worried that I’m losing my marbles and trying to figure out what to attribute these good feelings to.

Is it the B vitamins? The D’s? The pressure being lifted from IRS after being forced to resign myself to accepting and even embracing whatever bad things might happen? Our deliciously mild winter (that could fuck up the winter olympics in Vancouver if the Pacific Northwest doesn’t get more snow)? Getting rid of DirecTV and reading more and enjoying each other more? Our new sound therapy machine with the delta wave inducing sounds (I usually dream so much that I don’t get deep dreamless sleep: a symptom of low serotonin levels/depression)? Is it that I’ve lost some weight? Is it going to twelve-step meetings? Is it just that I’m reading more and I FUCKING LOVE TO READ?!?

I don’t know, but IT IS GOOD! So I’m going to try to enjoy it and not worry that there’s something wrong with me. Goes to show how unhealthy I’ve been for so long that when I feel terrific for more than three hours I think maybe the sky is falling.

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I picked up my new weighted hula hoop today for more high jinks on the spycams! I also have a bollycardio dvd that we rented which I’ve only gone through once and am looking forward to doing more of. It’s jolly/silly camwatching goodness.

Speaking of camwatching goodness, we enjoyed some fucking yesterday and I hope our voyeurs did, too.

*****

On Friday and Saturday we had a great visit with my sister, brother-in-law and nephews which contributed to my heightened sense of awareness and positivity. Hanging around a three year old and an easily-delighted baby with a huge grin and dimples is like bathing in a clarifying happiness. Music sounds better, everything looks newer and more interesting and mysterious, and I have an excuse to read books aloud that were read to ME when I was little.

And hey, on top of that there is all of this boundless LOVE. On top of just loving those little guys to pieces, the amount of unconditional love I get from them is totally amazing. I’m forced to love myself more just being around them, in part because they do not see flaws but also because I want to always model un-self-conscious confidence to them; they make me love  myself more.

Maybe that’s what’s going on with me lately . . . better brain chemistry. Getting better sleep. Getting rid of the television — maybe having more oxytocin like from being around my nephews and my sister, but also from cuddling Delia and really being TOGETHER in bed instead of just staring at the tube all of the time. Maybe I’m just being flooded with a lot of girl juice: the loving, bonding chemicals, not necessarily the sexy ones.

Cuddling never used to help me fall asleep — it was more something I liked to do for a few minutes BEFORE unsticking bodies and going to sleep on my own side of the bed. Bizarrely enough, I’m actually finally starting to understand how great if feels to fall asleep nestled up to Delia. If I get in her armpit with her arm around me and my nose on her upper tit, I now get an instant jolt of SOMETHING I’ve never had with anybody else. Seriously, it’s some kind of a drug injection that I do think has something to do with oxytocin. Whatever it is, it’s BLISS. Tranquilizing and emotionally/sensually stimulating all at the same time.

It’s still sort of weird and foreign to me so I mostly continue my years-entrenched habit of nestling into my own don’t-touch-me space to sleep, but I think I’m going to try to get more of that business more often. I might need to work on my initiation technique though which consists of awkwardly trying to lift her arm up and demanding she “let me in”.

Once upon a time in the eighties I read a story in Cosmo about a woman who got stuck on a plane sitting next to a guy who whipped out a porn magazine in flight, putting her in a Very Uncomfortable Position.

There was a pretty good piece in The Washington Post about the same thing happening with porn on mobile devices (stupid WP makes you have a login to read, sorry). Normally most coverage of publicly-consumed porn is really biased and weird, but they did an okay job of it: TECHNOLOGY INCREASES CHANCES TO SEE PORN IN PUBLIC.

Listen. I will defend every adult’s right to buy porn, to make porn, and to think whatever taboo sexual thoughts they want, but when you shove it into someone else’s face, you’re sexually assaulting them. You are forcing them to engage in a sexual encounter with you and your fucking porn without their consent. Is it to the same degree as actually jacking off on them on a plane or frottaging(sp?) them on a train or taking your own dick out and shaking it at them? Of course not (and I totally understand FANTASIZING about doing all of those things or FANTASIZING about those things happening to you), but I personally would press charges against someone who did that next to me. It’s unacceptable.

Of course, I say these things having been resentful at times when I wanted to pull up a NSFW blog or my own site when we’ve been on the road and in internet cafes and had to limit myself or do a lot of alt+tabbing, but that’s a far cry from the guy in the story who started watching hardcore, audible porn with not only the woman right next to him, but HER KIDS, too. The thought of it honestly makes my blood boil and my imagination to immediately go to a place in my head where I’m kicking this man’s teeth in and beating him about the head with his fucking laptop.

The shocking part to me is how many people (let’s face it, mostly MEN) think they’re entitled to publicly entertain their dicks wherever and whenever they want. How can you POSSIBLY think that’s okay? AND WHY ARE THEY GETTING AWAY WITH IT? Frankly I think we’re all obligated to publicly humiliate (to an extent that goes beyond what some of them are probably after in the first place) and legally dog these idiots.

Is there a grey area where I’d be more forgiving? Yeah. I know sometimes when you’re rowdy with another person at dinner or something you might flash some pictures on your cell phone at your buddy and someone might see it from a distance, but when your bubble is touching a stranger’s bubble either physically or audibly, you just do NOT insert sex into said stranger’s bubble. If you’re many seats away from anybody and nobody can HEAR your porn, I think that’s less of a big deal. If you make a valiant effort to hide it when someone approaches, I think that’s okay. And personally I wouldn’t care if someone masturbated next to me on a plane as long as they didn’t expose themselves or touch me or make eye contact with me and they did their best to hide it.

I think that I’ve masturbated under a blanket on a plane just to relax so I don’t know . . . maybe I’m drawing my lines in very subjective ways. I know I’ve had conversations in restaurants that were really graphic, loud, and could easily have made people uncomfortable but I think I’ve never done that with kids around. I hope not, anyway. Plus, I *love* listening to other people have conversations like that. UNLESS it’s guys talking trash about women or anybody calling people names. I have been known to ream people out for that. But it’s still different to talk about a sexual encounter and have people overhear you than start HAVING a sexual encounter with your porn and force people near you to have it with you, whether you intend to or not. And when your loud conversation disparages and insults people it’s kind of the same thing; you’ve drawn total strangers into your bullshit in a hurtful way.

I’ve also been known to have very noisy sex in apartments and not been modest at all about closing curtains when I’m naked or fucking in my own home to the point where I’ve been chastised by property managers and I don’t think people should have to be quiet in the summer when they’re fucking with the windows open to let in cool air at night (god, I love that sound). But I still think that’s different — there are walls, even though they’re penetrable and rendered mostly symbolic, that symbolism is something every civilized person should be able to recognize that establishes distance and literally marks the boundaries of what’s inside and private and what’s out. It’s an entirely different thing, however, if you stand in your window or  your yard making eye contact with schoolgirls as you’re masturbating. That is ENGAGING people and forcing them to participate in your scene. NOT OKAY. Same with listening to loud extreme porn where a neighbor or passerby could hear the sounds of people in pain or engaging in kinky roleplays (I wish I could find the link to a story about someone calling the police on his neighbor because it sounded like he was raping/killing a woman when in actuality he was “just” watching violent porn for hours at high volume). On the other hand, I think it’s perfectly allright for people to masturbate in their cars on their lunch breaks or whatever, with or without porn, as long as they’re not standing up through their sunroof and ejaculating on their windshield or making whatever they’re doing and/or watching visible to people close by.

Then of course I have to admit I’ve exposed myself in public places, mostly for pictures but sometimes just for the pure fun of it. Again, I’m worried that I have a double standard even though I’m 99% *convinced* that when I’ve done it it was DIFFERENT . . . safe and wholesome even when sexually suggestive. Somehow I just don’t believe a nude Trixie is threatening or dangerous or harmful, and I especially don’t think anything is “assault” if you are in a park or something but attempting to be discreet and someone stumbles upon you. If you’re lurking in some bushes, though, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to come along so you can expose yourself to them, then THAT is fucked up. I have masturbated in a library, but I didn’t *want* to be caught, so that makes it okay, right? I mean, I would have been mortified if I’d gotten caught! But for some reason I feel perfectly content telling everyone about it, even my friends only an hour after the fact.

So what about the way I have explicit nudity and sometimes sex acts on the front page of some of my sites (like this blog) without a warning page? Is that just as bad? Of course, I still think that’s different. Is it just because it’s ME and what I want to do? I don’t think so. People who don’t want to see porn can block my sites and I have also added metatags to make it easy for my pages to be identified as adult. Also, I’m not SITTING DOWN next to strangers in public places and making them watch and listen to movies of me masturbating and fucking. Anyone who sees me online still has the control to close their browser.

Then again, I’ve taken my top off on a hot day when driving in heavy traffic. I still had my bra on, but I *so* wanted to take it off and felt very irritated that I could get in trouble for that. I still do. I don’t know how anyone could have a problem with rush hour boobs. Or rush hour masturbating. Just don’t LEER at people, you know?

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The whole time I’ve been writing this, comparing these different scenarios, I’ve been torn. I want to be honest with myself and challenge myself to think critically about whether or not my boundaries and judgments are consistent, correct and safe BUT I wonder if by doing that publicly, I’m letting everyone off the hook and confusing issues that are actually very clear.

I could mull this over all night, about how it’s different to shove sex in someone’s unwilling face in a confined space versus being off-trail in a state park giving a pal a handjob when someone stumbles upon you and you quickly try to cover up and the other people are easily able to turn around and go the other way. I could sit here and list all of the reasons why it’s BEYOND inconsiderate to make other people watch/listen to porn (and why it’s especially wrong, I’m afraid to admit [and simultaneously uncomfortable with my hesitation to boldly say], when a MAN does this to a WOMAN and/or kids).

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Confession: some of the phone sex calls I’ve taken and gotten off to hardest were from guys with this “problem”, or who at least fantasized about acting on those urges. Guys jerking off in their apartments watching the girls walk home from school in short skirts. Guys jacking off in the parking lot and exposing themselves to their coworkers and other ladies just trying to drive away. Guys sitting in internet cafes with hardons.  I mean, pretty much all of the stuff I get off to hardest is taboo stuff I’d never want to happen in real life.

So how do I feel (almost) completely comfortable saying that if I caught somebody doing these things in real life I’d kick in their teeth, BUT when someone confesses it to me on the phone I just coyly call them naughty, FEIGN shock and disgust, and furiously masturbate myself to orgasm?

I don’t think I’m (a big) part of the problem, but I know a lot of people would beg to differ.

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The Washington Post article kind of blows off this behavior as just “too much information” or “socially inappropriate” or shaped by our mobile device culture making people self-absorbed, inconsiderate shitholes (TRUE), but I still think it’s much more sinister and criminal than that in ways that the men MIGHT not get (or totally DO get and that’s part of the thrill). And fuck if I have the patience to explain it right now. Let me know if you want me to, though, and/or if you have some links to people who already have and/or if you want to take a stab at it yourself.

It boggles my mind how I can peck out this many words and still leave so many dangerous gaps.

Last night we shot a bunch of fun, costumey, Halloween porn. Here are samples from each of the photo sets:

Me, dressed up as a maid in vinyl (we’ve never done the maid costume so we’re WAY overdue for this one):

Busty in PVC french maid costume.

Delia, dressed up as the Queen of Hearts (with cool feathery eyelashes, I’d like to point out):

And a sample from my “Scary Hairy Pussy and Halloween Hemorrhoid” set, one I’ve wanted to do for a very long time (well, not the hemorrhoid part — that was just a happy accident):

After we did all of that, we got into bed and fucked. It was sweet. And juicy. And also fairly well-lit and audible for our voyeurs watching on our spycams, so there! Our photo shoots are pretty tame by today’s porn standards — very tease oriented, usually — so we often build up excitement during the process.

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.

I couldn’t resist looking at the beautiful man-body chopping wood next door so I did something I think (I thought?) is really, REALLY wrong: I took sneaky pictures of him without his knowledge or consent. And now I’m doing something even MORE wrong: I’m posting one of them here:

He’s not our neighbor, he just delivers and chops wood for our neighbor. And I HAVE to watch him do it, because the guy is incredibly beautiful. Not his face, just his whole old-fashioned working-man’s body with that wedge-hourglass shape. The thick pants with the shiny metal details, the gloves, the white tank top, the cap, the scraggly mullet and those pale muscles built up in the shade and from working outside when it’s raining, because it rains all the time where he works. He’s like an 80’s version of the guys in old propaganda posters like these:

I have always been in love with watching men do physical labor. Even though I felt sort of dreadful about it, I was compelled to run and get the camera. I stood in the kitchen and snapped a few pictures where he could have turned around and seen me. But before that happened, I ran into the bedroom and took pictures of him through the crack between two panels in our shoji screen so he couldn’t catch me watching him through the magnifying lens of our camera. My desire to capture his image forever outweighed the voice in my head reminding me I was doing something wrong. Something I’ve seen/heard of other people (men) doing that sickened me, but that memory didn’t stop me from doing it myself.

You shouldn’t spend time on fetish-oriented forums online if non-consensual voyeuristic photography (and other stuff) bothers you. You’ll find out things that you just don’t want to know and see things you weren’t meant to see. Like pictures of used maxi pads guys steal out of public restrooms or photos a foot fetishist surreptitiously took of his neighbor’s niece’s bare feet while their family unwittingly enjoyed a barbecue in their driveway. The woman was probably in her twenties and the guy who took and shared the pictures described his sneaky method for capturing them and the type of camera and settings he used and how he managed to not get caught.

The freaky part is the way these people usually don’t even acknowledge the line they’re crossing, or worse, act like they’re ENTITLED to snagging these things that belong to other people. Of course, half the time someone with common sense will challenge these people or point out the err of their ways, but most people don’t bother to post any opposition, instead just showing their appreciation for what the voyeur-thief has “created”/salvaged for the members of the board. Or they will critique the spoils, like the guy who complained that the neighbor chick with the bare feet was so fat, how in the world could the spy-photographer possibly think anyone would be interested in seeing her or be aroused by her himself? So not only is this woman with the arched foot and a BBQ rib in her mouth being displayed on the internet without her knowledge or consent, she’s ALSO having her weight criticized. AWESOME, right?

I pretend that I’m not quite as bad as these sociopaths because I know what I’m doing is wrong. But I guess that actually makes me worse because I know it’s wrong and I’m doing it anyway (and those guys on the forums might know it’s wrong too, they just don’t waste time making a big show of acting guilty about it the way I am in all of my gross hypocrisy).

I can pretend I’m conducting an experiment or research. That I’m a writer. That the end result of provoking thought about these important issues of privacy, consent, and all SORTS of interesting things is worth the negligible or nonexistent “damage” I’m doing. And after all, it’s a really REALLY grey area, right? I mean, how many people would even think me taking and posting the picture of the axe man is wrong if I didn’t tell you that *I* think it’s (maybe) wrong? And this isn’t really a blog entry about that guy, it’s about me or the collective us and the image is actually a snapshot of me — the voyeur — and my thoughts, not him. It’s entirely possible to intellectualize it that way. He could be anybody. You can’t see his face. No one will ever know who he is. Probably not, anyway.

And would he care if people DID know? Maybe he’d WANT to be credited and known far and wide as The Woodsman Who Got Trixie Hot. Of course, that brings me back to the obvious trespass of not asking for his permission to photograph him in the first place, but speaking of consequences, *I* certainly don’t want to pay them. I don’t want *him* to know he was chopping wood next to TASTYTRIXIE and therefore knows about our websites and where I live and can tell everyone how to find me (I’d have to tell him about our sites in order for him to give INFORMED consent, though that disclosure would be out of ethical, not legal obligation; you don’t have to specify where or when something will published on a consent form, just that you as the photographer have all rights to the photos which legally you don’t REALLY need to do anyway since in our country the photographer automatically owns the photos, not the model). I don’t want to tell a big strong stranger with an axe and a cock that he gives me a boner and I want to take pictures of him — LOTS of pictures. Well, I do sort of want to tell him that, but I know it’s not such a good idea/could cause problems. He might be weird or scary or even if he isn’t, then our neighbor (a decent neighbor, not our scary neighbor) would know about us and that would make everyone on the block uncomfortable. Most of all us.

If it were my actual neighbor out there making me hot chopping wood, I wouldn’t have taken the pictures. Because that would be violating the good neighbor code of pretending each other doesn’t exist. And I certainly wouldn’t take pictures of his young daughter! Even if it were to record how she trespasses on OUR property, walking just three feet past me sitting in our window. Well, maybe I would (for proof of trespass only!), but I wouldn’t post them on the internet. But maybe only because I’m a pornographer and could get in trouble for it just by virtue of that fact.

When I pondered these things aloud to Delia, she doubted my assertion that if it were a woman out there, hanging laundry or washing a car, I totally wouldn’t have taken the pictures. She’s probably right. After all, I took this picture (without her knowledge/consent) of a hot redhead fishing because she had a really great ass:

It’s the kind of picture you can get away with taking in public and even sell prints of in local galleries that don’t have any artistic standards. It’s the kind of picture no one (except other wankers) would bat an eye at as long as you keep up the appearance of it being completely innocent. Even though I know that I took it purely out of sexual/sensual interest. And I know that any straight man with a camera would have taken it for exactly the same reason (or to prove to himself that he wasn’t) whether he would admit it or not, and there are tens of thousands of men with cameras with hobbies or professions doing exactly that. I know a lot of people who take completely g-rated innocent-loo
king pictures and jack off to them later even if they didn’t intend to when they snapped them.

Part of me feels justified in posting this because there are so many writers and artists and reporters and network television stations getting away with doing so much worse with absolutely no compunction. It’s only people like me who openly call ourselves pornographers who are recognized for exploiting and objectifying others even though we play be much stricter rules and are faced with much harsher penalties for violating them than any other industry would be. But that train of thought is just another diversion from asking myself how *I* would feel if my neighbor were peeping through a crack in the blinds taking pictures of ME doing yardwork or thinking he’s not home when I sunbathe naked on our deck when actually he’s hidden behind a tree and rubbing his crotch against its bark. Of course, I’d feel totally different about it if I had a teenage son or daughter being spied on. But the guy chopping wood is clearly an adult. And he wasn’t sunbathing naked. And again, I don’t think I’d care if my neighbor secretly stood in his kitchen taking pictures of me as I walk around OUR kitchen at night topless (which I do sometimes with the blinds open, not because I’m an exhibitionist but because I just don’t care) as long as he didn’t hang them in the post office with our address printed on them or something.

Meh. Now that I think about it, I really don’t care. As long as someone stays on their own property (not sneaking onto mine or a stranger actually stalking into the neighborhood to spy on us or putting on an obscene display of masturbating and shooting cum into our yard) and is only taking pictures of what I do outside or with the windows open then who cares. It’s kind of fucked up, but not a huge deal. It’s not like I’m lying in wait every day, conducting surveillance on everything that our neighbors and their visitors do.

After completely overthinking this, I absolve myself from guilt. It’s harmless and legal. But I guess if I give myself permission to be an opportunistic voyeur-perv-photographer that means I have to stop being shocked and offended by other people who do the same thing. I’m reluctant to do that.

Here’s a couple with a sleeping bag and no picnic basket that I shot entirely because I knew they were setting out to lie down together and *do things*:

If I hadn’t admitted that and had posted the picture somewhere else, like on a stock photo site using woman-approved keywords like “young love” and “spring romance” (and cropped out our cracked windshield & wipers giving away that I’m like a dirty old man doing a drive-by) it would probably be perceived in a totally different way. It would just be a bad snapshot. But because of who I am and what my site is and my confession that I’m a voyeuristic pervert who sees sexual potential everywhere, it seems more DIRTY and exploitative than it really is. What if a local television station were doing one of those weather “stories” about how people were still going to the beach even though it’s overcast, and those two lovebirds were in the background? Would the station be committing an evil deed? If not, why does it seem so evil when I do it and admit that I see erotic potential? And why would it seem so much grosser and more evil if I were a man instead of a woman?

Bah.

Speaking of double standards and being a horny woman, check out this post by Goddess Glory where she describes her friend getting mad at her for drooling over a waitress’s ass at dinner:

“. . . my mind was completely focused on fantasizing bout our waitress’ beautifully ginormous ass sitting on my face, cutting off my air supply.”

Have you been waiting for hot stories about our trip to Portland? While I did feel like I was in a perpetual state of arousal (shooting Delia always does that to me), the most action I got was from listening to the people fucking in the room next to ours.

At first I was nervous when they arrived while we were dirty-talking during a Delia-as-schoolgirl video and felt like they and the bellboy must have heard everything we were saying. I imagined the words “slut” and “cum” and “stop teasing me and show me what you’ve got in your panties!” echoing down the hallway.

Half an hour later I realized it was all good and maybe an appreciated dose of inspiration when I heard what sounded like crying on the other side of the wall. Of course, being the weird little voyeur I am, I hopped out of bed and ran to the wall to listen to a chick’s rhythmic whimpers and a man moaning quietly. And “oh yeah, yeah”s.

The next day we wound up leaving our rooms at the same time they did. For some reason I’d imagined the woman was going to be an Asian girl in her early twenties — I pictured her looking like Sierra on Dollhouse and the guy fucking her as a puffy white guy in his early thirties. Of course they didn’t look like that at all. They were about five years older than we are, the woman short with dark curly hair and sharp, smart features and the guy tall and dopey with shaggy hair and a bandana.

It’s weird how we populate our default images of “couples who enjoy fucking”; I’d never have conjured those two up in my imagination, but seeing them it did make sense. It was also weird riding ten flights down in the elevator with them, never acknowledging how we’d heard each other’s intimate moments. I know it wasn’t the kinkiest thing they’d done and it wasn’t the kinkiest thing we’ve done, but still . . . it seems pretty kinky the way people check into hotel rooms and fuck in them and hear each other fucking in them just a few feet away, overlapping sex sounds and depositing DNA in all sorts of places that housekeeping might miss. All those boxes of hotel rooms and all the cum dumped in them by strangers. There were visible food stains on our comforter — it looked like barbecue sauce — and I can’t help thinking about all of the remnants of human fluids from total strangers inhabiting the room. Layers and layers of spunk.

You never hear people acknowledge this weirdness of paying money to sleep and fuck where thousands of other people have fucked and jacked off. I find that very bizarre in a country where people are obsessed with sanitizing everything and showering once or twice or three times a day, but they think going to a nice hotel is like sitting in the lap of luxury instead of a germ and sperm depository. Like the people next door — before they fucked, one or both of them took a shower. To be clean for fucking and letting total strangers listen in. It’s not that I personally think hotels are disgusting cesspools of nastiness — I realize the bedding and towels in nicer establishments are hypercleansed for our protection and I embrace germs up to a certain point — I just think the double standards are weird with so many people being OCD about supercleaning everything and protecting themselves from germs that they never talk about hotel rooms as cum dumps.

Do you really think they sanitize the television remotes and all the little things you touch that traveling businessmen sully with semen? And how about all of those decorator pillows (especially in bed and breakfasts) that you yourself have stuffed under your bare ass during or after a fuck? Am I the only one and other people just don’t fuck in bed and breakfasts or make sure to say, “no honey, not on the decorator pillow — it will be hard for them to wash”? Personally I just think, “I wonder how many other people have gotten their fluids on this thing with the brocade upholstery.” Other times I just count all the stains that remain, visible to the naked eye, like the semi-washed-out spots of blood on the bedspread at the LAST place we stayed and the crusty spots on the carpet. Or how about the blood on this wooden toilet seat (which DID totally gross me out)?

On top of the illusion of cleanliness, I’m fascinated by the illusions we have of privacy, or maybe the willingness Americans have to accept and embrace a total LACK of privacy not just in hotels but in general. I knew exactly when the people in the room next door woke up — I could hear him draw up the mechanical shades and give her a wake-up spanking. Why don’t we demand thicker walls? I’ll never understand that. And security recording camera feeds of the four of us in the elevator together, pretending we didn’t know how we used each other’s genitals the night before.

I wonder how the couple next door expected us to look and if they were surprised by the reality of us.

*****

Unfortunately our friend Krissy came down with a sore throat last week so we’ve postponed Delia’s shoot with her. It will probably be better on a longer trip anyway. I do not understand how people can travel and shoot and get to appointments on time and tan and get all their nails and hair done AND visit with friends and go out and have fun — we didn’t do anything except walk around Portland and try to find reasonably-priced yet delicious places to eat (we failed most days, except I did love a certain sandwich shop in an office building with a delightfully surly cashier).

I also spent an extended amount of time lurking in the aisles of Rite Aid eavesdropping on a not-at-ALL-surly cashier being extraordinarily kind for at least ten minutes to a mentally-ill homeless woman who had a lot of questions that weren’t altogether unreasonable:

Sir? Listen, sir — you can probably tell I’m missing a lot of teeth and my mouth hurts . . . do you think this food is soft? Because that’s a lot of money and I’ll just be throwing it away if I can’t eat it because it’s too hard . . .

The guy seriously fondled the bag she handed to him and tried to explain that he couldn’t make that determination because it was entirely subjective. She also had a lot of questions about pickles and cucumbers and tried to engage the man behind the counter in that age-old debate pitting sweet pickles against dill. It was heartwarming. Unfortunately I missed out on seeing someone steal a couple cases of beer the next day — Delia was the only one who got to enjoy that scene.

Anyway, we had great weather for traveling, bought some new ponytail-holders and shot some good content. We did not go to Powell’s or down the street to Mary’s or visit any friends or enter any sensory deprivation tanks, though. Maybe next time.

*****

Here’s Delia’s post with sample images from our little trip.

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.

Tomorrow our friends Julia the Naughty Teacher and her photographer are coming over for a visit, which we’re really looking forward to.

We won’t be shooting, just hanging out and chatting; we really need the social time and they’re willing to drive all the way out to our peninsula location so the least we can do is try to get our house to look less like a pig sty. It’s getting late and we still have a lot of cleaning to do, so I decided to post a “no frills” version of The List (of all the people I’ve fucked) tonight along with a guest gallery from Julia, and will publish an additional, more detailed version of The List whenever I’m able to implant the first layer of augmentation in the form of details, links, and video commentary.

While Julia and her photographer are here some of our cams will be down so they will be comfortable. Then we are going to be gone on Thursday so Delia can make one last deposit at the sperm bank before she goes on hormones (we’re taking a break from trying to conceive) and we’ll also deliver a late birthday present to my sister. We’ll also be gone part of Friday for Delia’s laser appointment. Next week I’ll be hosting hyperchat, though, so members will have many opportunities to hang out with me in chat.

VOYEURS: sorry about the PMS – I know it’s not very relaxing to spy on someone screaming and swearing and scowling and barely managing to not throw, kick and break things, but that’s life. I tried to treat it with exercise and got out of the house to blow off some steam; it helped a lot and I enjoyed it, but hormones are stubborn fuckers and I have to let loose before the next three days of interacting with others and/or being away from home where I *have* to control myself.