Wearing my sports bra that smashes down my boobs and string bikini panties with my bush peeking over the top, self-shot in a mildly fun-house mirror that we LOVE because it elongates & skinnifies us juuuuuust enough to look like we’re more slender than we really are:
See how much bigger my boobs are LIVE on TrixieCams.com
My breasts actually look much bigger than they appear in this photo … and I’m going to show you WITH oil and/or lotion in a gold show or two this afternoon on TrixieCams.com!
Catch me LIVE for $3 to $5 … sign up now so you’re ready to go as soon as I jump on!
I want to have some softcore fun (with a slight possibility of things escalating to anal masturbation, but NO PROMISES on that 😉 showing off my big naturals and just getting friendly, and proving I’m still alive and well!
If you’re too excited to wait for me or if my show(s) leave you with blue balls, there are lots of other people on TrixieCams to have fun with (including my wife, DeliaTS).
And my blog and site are NOT dead … on the contrary; there’ll be more soon, I promise!
Delia made an “emergency” trip home yesterday because of this:
The day before (test strips 1 & 2) I had the thick clear egg-white-like goo, but I drank a lot of water so maybe the tests looked blank because of that. Then yesterday I had pinchy cramps on my left side and stuff.
Because of my tipped uterus & the way my cervix points up, this position actually isn’t good for me to try to conceive (having hips THIS elevated actually isn’t optimal for anybody), but I did it just for fun and because it felt good after already spending a long time in other positions trying to bathe my cervix in semen.
dimly lit creampie
The other (optimal) positions were: on all fours (with Delia continuing to fuck me from behind for a long time after she came), on my belly, on my belly with a pillow under my hips.
She wants to do it again today. It’s pretty interesting, her getting more testosterone back after this many years blocking it.
We’re having a super happy time today. We slept, we stretched, we prayed, we planned, we’ve done some work and we’ll do some more. We’re listening to jazzy Christmas tunes while I do dishes and she cooks scrambled eggs and bacon for lunch. It’s raining and after we eat we’re going to go run around in the shadowy wet winter woods.
Yay! Delia just shot an HD video and set of pictures of me naked in the backyard, showing off my hairy bush and armpits.
The light was great (though hard to work with on her way down) and dry-summery, and Delia used it to really highlight my blue eyes.
It was fun to shoot something that wasn’t reliant on fetishizing clothes; as you know we *love* the details of panties, blouses, skirts, nightgowns, nylons, socks, and more, but then we feel like we have to get EVERY IMPORTANT SHOT OF EVERY SEXY DETAIL of the striptease and the feminine fetish garments that it takes forever and there’s always some disappointment that we missed an opportunity for a close-up of something, or an erotic moment of a certain stage of half-dress that it’s kind of . . . arduous. This shoot was a fun break from all of that, just focusing on my naked self outside, and the hair fetish.
I love today.
After a late lunch, I had fun picking out one poem to read from behind a fence – it wound up being this one: Harpoon for the Dreamer by Michael Hannon:
Definitely resonated with me right away. I have been having nightmares about that monkey child whose parents ripped its arms off in a tug-of-war argument at Woodland Park Zoo for HOW MANY FUCKING YEARS NOW??? I wish I hadn’t been reminded of it, but I guess that’s poetry for you. What he says about finding freedom of expression and to emote within the confines of structure and boundaries is also very true to me.
It’s too bad (I think, anyway) his site doesn’t list or link to or sell his books. Is that something poets do to make their work totally epehemeral? I don’t get it. Oh, wait . . . here’s some books. You know what? Maybe that’s not even the same fucking poet!! Oh well. I’ve spent way too much time researching this anyway. I don’t know why the internet makes it so I feel this obligation to link to somebody’s work, but it doesn’t give me enough information to link to somebody’s work without doing hours of research. If this were a conversation I’d just be able to say I read this interesting poem and it made me feel things and that’s cool and stuff and I wonder who this person is and I tried to find out but when I did I wondered if it was even the same person and oh well who fucking cares. And I thought I was really managing my time well by not trying to read ALL of the poems behind the fence, but look how much time it took to just YEAH I TOLD YOU I GOOGLED HIM AND YOU COULD GET THIS FOR $40 ON AMAZON AND THE GOODREADS DOESN’T SAY WHICH BOOK THIS HARPOON THING WAS IN SO I WHAT???? I TOLD YOU I DON’T KNOW MAYBE HE’S A DOUCHEBAG!! BOOK OF FLOWERS ****WHAT****??
So the internet is frustrating and so is poetry and can’t you understand why I hate talking on the phone? I want to go make some cryptic drawings outlined in nonsense words. I’ve fulfilled my quota for the week but I’ll try to squeeze another hour or night in tomorrow but I’ve already had two people today say JUST FIVE MINUTES and CAN’T YOU JUST HANDLE ONE HOUR???? Noooooooooooooooo she can’t.
Actually, if this were a conversation you would have said WHY DON’T YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY AND TAKE A DEEP BREATH nine sentences ago.
What Delia could see of me looking down from our window:
Looking down on a naked lady
What I could see looking up:
Peace be with you!
Is everyone having a fresh, soft, HAIRY summer?
For more views of our summer this week, here’s a belated non-nudie pic post for Sunday.