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Posts Tagged ‘fantasies’

While packing up and moving, I rediscovered a lot of jolly useless crap that I’ve hoarded, including these fortunes I saved for some reason:

Rediscovered fortune-cookie fortunes

Guess which one I like best (if I were to choose one to be my REAL fortune or that I actually believe in)?

Definitely not “you will have many friends when you need them”. That one gives me an anxiety attack – total fortune cookie curse. I thought they stopped making those kinds!

I like “you are the center of every group’s attention” marginally better, but again, it sounds like a curse pointing out a strong character defect. It might as well say, “you are an obnoxious narcissist and/or a buffoon.” Like, everywhere you go YOU WILL MAKE AN ASS OF YOURSELF!! Have you ever considered being seen and not heard? Okay, how about if you just take a shower next time because you smell like a stale cookie baked in a butt oven. Decorating your face with your own smegma isn’t as cool as you think it is. And for Christ’s sake, put your tits away and stop talking like a fourth grader impersonating an Asian comedian.

I do not belong to any group, I am simply an object of every group’s derision. There is “every group”, and there is me. I don’t think I have low self-esteem, I truly think that’s all implied by the wording of the fortune.

“Put the data you have uncovered to beneficial use” resonates with me. STRONGLY. Like a whisper of truth from the great computer in the sky, urging me along to fulfill my virtual destiny on the gameboard of “life”. I can feel proud of being chosen to uncover data and succeeding in dusting off this wisdom — these necessary components of information –  and look forward to more being revealed as I take the Next Logical Steps in applying all of it. My future is certain, but I do not know what it is . . . yet. But everything will most certainly fall into place and I will either end world hunger or win a lifetime supply of personal awesome, which I may build in the form of a vault filled with cakesters, lost Patricia Highsmith novels (imagined and written by moi, of course), benzos, and the interchangeable body parts of my robot sex drone*, “Vector” (affectionately named after my favorite affordable fountain pen by Parker, which I will have cached by the thousand).

Despite the allure of that fortune, I’m fated to accept “you have remarkable power which you are not using” as the true script written exactly for me. I could look at it as the forty-year-old’s new age version of all of my report cards stating over and over again that I fail to work up to my full potential, like the punch in the gut every time a family member on Intervention tells the addict, “you could be so much more . . . will you please take this precious opportunity today to be the Person You Are Meant to Be?” I would be like, “why do you think I take drugs in the first place?? Too! Much! PRESSURE!!”

But I don’t know . . . there really is something magical about that little slip of paper saying it like a promise from the universe instead of a disappointed father to his teacher-turned-whore daughter. So even though I threw away the fortunes, I’m going to try to use that one as an affirmation, and every time I say “I have remarkable power which I am not using” I’m going to feel a mountain of sparkling gold coin growing under my feet, strong and heavy, feeling like a reserve of money in the bank that I may withdraw at any time. I snap my fingers then open them a quarter of an inch, and coin flies up in between them! I snap my fingers on my other hand and open them again and a cakester appears in my fist! I tap my tall shiny boot on my platform of tinkling, clanging gold and a platinum-furred gopher appears in my arms!

Then I start the engine on my golden mountain of reserved power and fly across the world as though on a fertilizing-lawnmower hovercraft, gilding everything with my perverse tinkling laughter, and everyone has to put on masks like when Mount St. Helens blew or run inside lest they pollute their lungs with my infectious 14 carat gold ash. Then me and my platinum gopher land at the top of an extremely soft and unbelievably tall grassy hill that we roll all the way down until we land — laughing gold even harder than before — on a pillowtop mattress that floats off into a shimmering blue lake filled with lily pads holding bowls of mashed potatoes and gravy.

*is it redundant or actually just plain inaccurate to call something both a robot and a drone?

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.

Yesterday I woke up NEEDING to fuck after having vivid, happy, kissing and sex dreams about a certain married man and two hot younger women with me somewhere in the middle.

With so much work on our plates I thought maybe my arousal would dissipate after breakfast and I could get cracking right away, but my desire to fuck just got more urgent so I asked Delia to meet me in bed after brushing our teeth and stuff (no, I’m not the type of person who needs everything to be clean, but sometimes it’s nice).

We turned on some music, kissed each other, groped each other, did some grinding, and fucked. Though we eventually wound up coming together in my favorite position with me on top, Delia served up some straightforward pumping in a variety of other positions first which I REALLY NEEDED. Just some rhythmic, direct, insistent fucking accompanied by confused images running through my head of a parade of people fucking me. It’s amazing how into Delia I can feel and so connected to her while at the same time my brain is populated by fantasies of fucking other people, too.

*****

Good news: today Delia’s new site, DeliaTS.com, is officially accepting new members!

Delia's New Site

If you haven’t checked Delia out recently, definitely hit her new pics page and the free video sample (I have a hand, literally, in some of the clips).

We finished it awhile ago but we before announcing it we had to get approval from our payment processor and Visa which takes times. Her new site is a continuation of the old one so I’m not sure how much of a difference it will make to current fans and members (if you are a member to one of our sites now, you automatically have access to this one, too, and all of our others). The big thing for us is that it’s in line with her identity as a transwoman and looks shinier and more up-to-date so we do a better job of accurately selling her. I know, that’s a big turn-off to some people, being reminded that we have to actually make money on our sites, but it SHOULD be a turn-ON; the more successful we are, the more and better porn we can make! Eventually we would love to shoot people for her old sites, both Trixie’s Houseboy AND DeliaCD, but right now we don’t have the time or money. Someday!

I am so much healthier physically than I was a year ago and think we’re at an age and approaching a stage in life where we might become more sexually adventurous with other people. Not right now, but soon. I’m feeling really frustrated mentally and physically because I have years of catching-up to do on geeky webmaster work — unstimulating desk-job stuff that requires a lot of concentration, patience, and sitting still staring at the computer for hours on end. It’s all stuff we need to finish make more money and pay our debts which are all coming to a giant head. I’m having a hard time not complaining about how I really want to be OUTSIDE enjoying my body or INSIDE FUCKING or dancing or doing more creative things with our time than soul-sucking technical stuff, but it has to be done and it WILL pay off. And there will be more fucking soon, I can FEEL it. Just not as soon as I want.

*****

We’ve got shows and members-only chat scheduled tomorrow night (Friday) and Saturday. Members CLICK HERE for our schedule/exact times and to gain entrance to them. Hope to see you there!