Remember these after-shoot teaser shots?
Welllll . . . after all these months, Delia just posted the video for our members!
I’m glad she sat on it for awhile . . . it’s fun and rewarding to see how she edited what we shot after forgetting so much of it. I really love that it’s a whole role playing scene with a beginning, middle and end with a bunch of shots.
I hate it when Daddy sits with his nose in a book and ignores me! I mean I should get his undivided attention ALL the time! I tried to remind him how bad I need petting and cuddling but it just seemed to make him mad. Finally he got fed up and made me get in my cage while he went out. He made me read this fascinating book while he was out but I got too sleepy and had to take a nap. He seemed a little upset when I didn’t know what the book was about. I got my ass spanked hard for that! Daddy sure was mad but he let me make it up to him with a nice wet blowjob! He plowed my ass good and hard and shot a big load of hot white gooey stuff all over my face. It was so yummy! I hope you enjoy watching. -Delia
I’m proud of us shooting it totally on the fly without any idea beforehand of what they might do. I was dirty-old-eccentric-man-boss-director and made them do a lot of things that were time-consuming and annoying . . . and I’m proud of how it turned out with very little time, tiny budget (we bought Delia’s bodystocking & dinner out with us for James), and the help of friends (Ms. Savannah‘s amazing space, and James Maverick’s beautiful willing talent on top of my wife’s). It’s not perfect, but it’s fun and pretty fucking awesome considering our relatively limited resources.
*total access to her site, MINE, and all of her pre-transition content
*two other scenes Delia shot with James last year: her first boy-girl hardcore was with him, and a hot Daddy & pee scene with her
*to help us make more sweet homemade porn!
We’re trying to budget for a trip to Vegas to have Damien shoot Delia & I together, and would LOVE LOVE LOVE to be able to hire James for real to shoot more with us. We had a barter thing with him but he’s always working so hard when we see him that he can’t actually afford time to claim his reward. WE SHOULD BE PAYING OUR CO-STARS TO MAKE PORN WITH US . . . the porn we make (and that Delia’s been having other people shoot) is special and unique . . . I’d love for it to get even awesomer (and to be able to fairly compensate people who work with us, and have enough time with them to make even better stuff) with the support of more paying fans.
I’m not sure why it’s taken me this many years to figure out that if I do have a type, that type is DEPRESSED.
Almost all of the people I’ve been romantically involved with have been people who’ve struggled with significant depression.
I could sit here and try to analyze why this is / has been, but maybe the most important thing for me to recognize right now is that THIS PROBABLY DOES NOT HELP ME WITH MY OWN DEPRESSION –and– I AM NOT HELPING THEM WITH THEIRS / may very well be making theirs worse.
Actually I don’t really know if that’s entirely true. What I do know is that I feel really sad, tired and incompetent today. I’m disappointed in myself and my own behaviors and weaknesses. I don’t feel hopeful about finding a solution, but I know I should continue to seek help. But not try to find it in (or expect healthy solace from) new (or old) relationships.
Personally at this point in my life I think the best thing I can do is focus on more things I can be (or already am) good at. And romance doesn’t seem to be one of those things I excel at, or make other people feel excellent at.
For one thing, if I don’t feel awesome about my work performance, I don’t feel really awesome about myself at all, and from there it’s just a downhill fast-growing shitball of low self-esteem for me. I really want my extra-marital romances to enhance and inspire and feed my work, but mostly what happens may be that I get consumed by and exhausted in my own obsessive love vortex of deprivation and drama that distracts me from productively working and puts a lot of stressful pressure on the people I love.
Or maybe I just didn’t get enough exercise over the past week. And stuff. Or maybe I’m just still learning, and that’s okay.
I wasn’t surprised to read about Robin Williams’ passing (long after putting this post in draft mode, so that’s not why I felt depressed earlier today). Just surprised by how many people are “stunned” and “shocked”. I felt a kind of grim relief for him knowing that what must have been an exhaustingly hard and crazy daily existence is finally over. When I read people online responding to his suicide with well-intentioned pleas to reach out for help if you feel that way, it comes across (to me) as really insulting to him as a person and dismissive of huge parts of his legacy. And clueless about what that kind of depression feels like.
After I wrote that stuff up there / way later tonight: I feel way better. People are nice to me, and I probably don’t suck THAT hard at romance and work and being nice and stuff. After all, I *have* been known to perform pretty sweet romantic rimjobs! But only on people I think are really REALLY special.
I am lucky. And I hope all of you are, too. Even LUCKIER!!
And if you feel like killing yourself, I will not be one of the people thinking condescending judgmental thoughts about you. Unless you do it in front of your kids, and then I will think that part was a pretty shitty asshole thing to do. But I still won’t think I’m better than you. Just luckier.
Looking at Taurus looking at a book of pin-ups:
Looking at Taurus looking at a book about queer pulp:
My favorite part: the hello kisses that felt full of love and nothing outside of being so happy and excited to see each other.
Not long after that I forgot that I don’t know how to not be an asshole, even with an alarm clock that should have reminded me not to be. I don’t have the skills. And that I have waaaaaaaaaaaay more babyish emotional needs and demands than I feel proud of.
I want to be loved with impractical ferocity and patient reassurance. I want the way I devour you with the full force of my gaze to feel good, not scary.
I want to be good at all of this, and I’m not. The past year has taught me that. I fucking suck at it. And pretty much everything else. Which is something I need to work on alone. Or just not . . . inflict myself on others. I want to be safe and reliable and healthy and admirable. And I’m not. I want to be NICE. And I’m not, except very inconsistently, which is just cruel. Unpredictable people suck ass for people who need more safe happiness.
Not sure what gear to put myself in . . . spending tired time with Delia in Seattle.
I wanted that red scarf with polka dots up there, but I took a picture instead of buying it since I just wanted to concentrate on what I was there for, which was enough of a set of tasks to thoroughly occupy me. And because I need to not blow money willy-nilly on polka dots! One of my favorite things about camera phones and cheap digital photography is being able to wishlist and archive things instead of making impetuous or packrat-y decisions to consume / buy / hoard stuff.
We were going to go to the gym together tonight, but now I think we should just go to sleep.
I haven’t cammed much over the past year or so. We put doing scheduled free shows for members on hiatus, and I haven’t done much pay-to-show camming in a good long while.
It’s taken awhile to notice a few ill effects of doing less camming. I recently realized that although I’m not getting as many headaches, MY PUSSY / PELVIC FLOOR MUSCLES may have suffered from not massaging my insides with big dildos and long masturbation sessions with vaginal and anal penetration.
Also: CAMMING FORCES ME TO SMILE AND BE ENGAGING. Many times I did not want to log into a scheduled webcam show, but found my mood SIGNIFICANTLY improved afterwards in spite of a poorly-timed poop being delayed and other work being interrupted. Just because I had to make my voice and face be alive with a bare minimum of friendliness. And SEE myself being . . . okay.
There I am, in front of myself, being human and not altogether unpleasant.
Depression is often a problem for me, so getting on cam can be an excellent pick-me-up.
When Taurus couldn’t come spend the night with me last night due to an unexpected work trip, I decided it was a perfect opportunity to get back on TrixieCams.com.
I got all set up to work in Delia’s usual workstation, not at all sure the lights and webcam and equipment and software and connection (and I) would function properly, dragging in some toys and basic fetish clothing from the cabin, but things worked out pretty seamlessly and I got busy surprisingly quickly upon logging in (pretty fucking awesome considering how little I’ve worked that site).
Spending more time alone and very very little time interacting with people means I can go all day without talking to anybody except Delia on the phone briefly. That’s awesome in so many ways, but I think it’s exacerbating my tendency to be depressed. As a long day alone winds down I often feel . . . like shit. Overwhelmed and like everything I try to do is totally fucking futile. By the time night falls I sometimes loathe myself and feel like I’ve failed at everything I tried to accomplish, everything I *have* said or done is stupid, and I haven’t made any worthwhile contribution to … anything. Don’t worry about or feel sorry for me, I’m just describing my state of mind for the purpose of comparison – I’m okay/working on it.
So let me tell you how great it feels to be able to get paid to provide a happy service to people; IT FEELS FUCKING GREAT!! When I’m able to stay comfortably busy camming as a hairy over-forty sex worker with zero regulars and no advance promotion? It’s a HUGE boost to my self-esteem. Even if it has nothing to do with me personally and is just a combination of good luck, timing, some other folks tweeting some traffic my way, Streamate‘s popularity, and that I’m privileged as a busty blue-eyed blonde. And that people think women over forty are hot and nice. And hairy pussy is a sought-after rarity in the porn world.
I got to do shows with/for some really lovely people — I *love* when customers show off for me on cam too, and last night was especially rewarding and a good reminder of why this kind of work is awesome; I got to see a few people’s faces POSITIVELY BEAMING WITH HUGE GRINS! Big loads of cum . . . huge fucking smiles! Seeing one guy’s heavy cock pump thick white jizz onto his knuckles and then have him thank me and just share the most elated happy smiling beautiful face? I LOVE IT! And one of them was a beautiful lady with similar boobs showing similar tan/sunburn lines around the neck like mine up there – I got to masturbate with her and listen to/watch her husband fuck her from behind.
I also got to do some of my favorite “sick” role plays (that are really just hilariously harmless and common hot fantasies) AND finally do a show with someone who has been writing to me and trying to get a show for a very long time (well over a year, I think). And because of the nice block session he got and from the very small window I had of him, he looked like his own sweet self . . . and reminded me enough of Taurus in certain ways that I had a huge orgasm while I watched him jerking off. And then he came too and there were more big happy smiles, and I think I should do some more camming tonight.
This is a branch that fell from a tree:
These are my naked boobs as I look towards the tree whence it came:
I was watering plants in the backyard. No breeze. Calm. Still. No voices. No birds. Just a little cracky tumble and it landed on the sidewalk near my cabin stoop. Like somebody high up in the tree wanted me to look up . . . and not see them. Just look.
Know this: results and consequences aren’t always immediately realized. You cannot reach high enough to see how much you have left to go or to prevent the inevitable or to wrench yourself free.
Yesterday after our nephews left, Delia and I went for a sweaty trail-walk/run . . . with a more driven emphasis on running than usual, which felt fantastic. And also tired us out completely . . . we fell asleep before ten. And slept for about ten hours. Actually I woke up at two and thought, “how the fuck am I going to go back to sleep for another four+ hours?!?” so I asked her if it would be okay for me to watch tv for awhile, but she was having none of it. So I had a snack and managed to go back to sleep.
We had a nice lazy start to the morning together, listening to music, drinking strong coffee . . . and then fucking.
Then I wanted to put on dresses and go somewhere special with her for lunch. Just the two of us.
With us spending so much time away from each other and out and about with other people, I miss just being near each other comfortably not-talking, strolling through town and having special meals together. I want to eat lunch in the summer sun, in public with my wife, with our legs showing.
Instead of going to the snotty French bistro for brunch, we walked through the Farmer’s Market with all kinds of magic food booths and folksy accordion music playing and without much discussion agreed on crab cakes, gazpacho, mulligatawny, and lemonade. The skirt of my dress blew up in the wind and I aggravated my wife by wanting to sit on the curb instead of the grass.
And then we filled up the gas tank.
Pretty sweet stuff, right?
NOTE: Taurus is visiting me on Monday so it’s very likely we will be on cam naked in bed together and stuff at some point(s).
No guarantees ever with our voyeur cams . . . this is all our real unscripted middle-aged poly life. We might have sex in the dark of the cabin or outside, etc. rather than with the nightshot in the sleeping alcove.
Yesterday I started feeling super happy . . . making what I can control about my physical health my current top priority and trying to worry and complain less about everything else, devoting that energy to exercising and taking care of my body IS TOTALLY PAYING OFF! Even though I’m not doing great with the no-negativity part, my body makes me so grateful and happy. It forgives and supports me and I’m excited to keep having opportunities to see what it can do.
I’m super lucky to have the space and time and my hard-working wife‘s support to focus on this small-scale rehabilitation of myself. Having time alone has been key for me to only eat when I want to, thinking only about whether or not I’m hungry, stopping eating when I’m full . . . and reducing my tendency to use food to soothe myself and drown out excess stimuli and stress. Obviously I can’t live my whole/the rest of my life in solitary confinement in order to not overeat (in fact the past few days I’ve witnessed myself swinging back to the other side where I’m not very motivated to eat and feel nauseated by food, but that’s partly because of other stuff like resuming the pill after the week off of it), but for now some of that is okay just to get to a healthy place in my body. My brain is working and feeling way fucking better.
Yesterday and last night I also got a surge of gratitude for all of the relationships I’ve been lucky enough to have in my life, and a strong certain feeling that none of them have been accidents, even when “mistakes” were made that I don’t want to repeat. I’m not saying it’s all a bunch of magic or predestination, but I know my life has been gifted with connected experiences of loving and learning resulting from something bigger than my own individual conscious choices. Maybe the something bigger is each other mixed with coincidence and good timing. Maybe I’m just ridiculously lucky (proof: Delia ).
I’m not saying that all of my friendships and relationships have been perfect dreamy cakewalks, because they haven’t, not for me and certainly not for the people who love(d) me. But I keep learning things and experiencing exceptional things very few people have the privilege and audacity to enjoy.
Some of the most unpleasant parts of the past week involved me gaining perspective to empathize with an ex-boyfriend and understand better some of the things I did that were hurtful. Maybe it’s fucked up and superstitious/religious, but I sometimes am almost relieved (and my faith somewhat restored) when what goes around comes around and I’m taught a fucking lesson. I appreciate understanding people better and being reminded how to be kinder (and more brave and honest with myself), and again feel super fortunate that “the universe” has overall been exceedingly patient and gentle in meting out justice to me. I’ve also been blessed (by my own choices, by luck and by other people’s generosity) that I haven’t had to pay for my mistakes for the rest of my life in any serious way (pregnancy, bankruptcy, life-threatening or debilitating injuries or illnesses, horrible-forever-commitment-chains, etc.).
Recognizing these blessings makes me feel better about getting older and being sort of lost; I’m excited by the possible prospect of how much more I’ll know and understand and be of value in twenty-five years, and I’m reassured that I don’t have to plan, control, force or agonize over everything in my near and distant futures. If I were *only* open to what I could plan for and imagine as good for me, my life would probably be a boring sad tightly-laced sack of shit, regret, misery and hopelessness.
I’M SO FUCKING THANKFUL for my parents at this moment for how loving and fervent and defiantly different they are/were. They are/were not ordinary, and because of that and their constant unconditional love I’m able to keep growing into believing it’s good to be *out* of the ordinary, and to recognize and celebrate that my life as it is right now is fucking EXTRAordinary. With the potential for unbounded joy in excess of all normal people’s expectations or imaginings. I wish for everybody to have the freedom and good fortune to experience this, too!