Welcome to the jungle

November 30, 2004

The blogosphere is becoming ever more crowded and ever more interesting: my friend Toby has decided to join us, and just started up his own One Life, Take Two.

He has rechristened himself Jefferson, because he�s a transplanted southerner, and they like their Jeffersons down there. So out of respect I�ll be changing his name here as well. It�s just the week for that. If any of my other real lifers don�t like their pseudonyms, I say shaddup. Or start your own blog and you can be Ballerina Watusi for all I care.

Because I am an attention hog, I recommend that you start out with reading part 1 and part 2 of his side of the sex party last Tuesday. Interesting cross-referencing.

Speaking of cross-referencing, we are also working on a separate blog that exists solely for the purposes of providing a clear cast of characters for you all. The blog will be contributed to by myself, Jane and Jefferson, because so many of our conversations look like this:

�Oh I remember him � I fucked him at that party.�

�No honey, you were watching. I was fucking him.�

Insert any combination of the two of us into that conversation.

And since this is basically an administrative post, I�ll add this too: in the next two and a half weeks, I�ll be wrapping up my first semester of grad school. This is both exciting and terrifying. I have a lot of (mostly fun!) work to do, but chances are that I will still be posting quite regularly, because blogging is the best procrastination EVER. Hopefully I will also be getting some relief from all my hard work � and by relief of course I mean fucking. In the meantime, you can expect increasingly bonkers posts from me, which hopefully fall along the lines of “cute” and “hilarious” not “so lame I’m not reading anymore.”

Posted by Dacia at 03:47 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Naming names (a PSA)

November 29, 2004

Some of my more astute readers may have noticed that over the last few days, there has been a subtle but definite change to my name, from Dacia Ray to Audacia Ray. This shift honors my namesake a bit more, while doing something else as well.

A ways back, I was contacted by the husband of the legally named Dacia Ray, and they were none too pleased about my use of the name. My options in dealing with the situation were basically: make a name-changing compromise or tell them to fuck off.

After a lot of pondering, I decided to go for the name change option, though the fuck off option was duly considered.

The thing is this: the legally named Dacia has been getting flak and assumptions tossed her way about involvement with my work and my adventures (some might say misadventures).

In pondering the fuck off option, I was thinking: well, shit, I work hard too. Writing and doing sex is legit stuff, I should get plenty of respect instead of scorn. Rarrr!

But in pondering the name change option, I realized, sadly: of course sex ruins lives. I hate that, but it’s the truth, and that’s what got me into using a pseudonym to begin with.

You can still call me Dacia (just not Dacia Ray), but please don’t write lots of comments stating your opinion of whether or not I should have told the Rays to fuck off. I’ve made my choice, and I think it’s a good one, all things considered.

If any linkers would be so kind to adjust their links accordingly, it would be greatly appreciated.

Posted by Dacia at 09:26 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

I'm a catty, jealous bitch

November 28, 2004

Just because I’m in a successful open relationship does not mean that I have banished jealousy from my life. In fact, it seems quite the opposite.

When I was in a monogamous relationship (almost 5 years!) I never got jealous of my boyfriend spending time with other girls. I thought it was funny when one night, he called me by another girl’s name in his sleep. I didn’t get pissed when he’d come home late and tell me about the cute girls at the bar, because he always came home to me.

Maybe it’s just the intensity of my feelings for Dirck, or the fact that certain online communities make it easy for me to check out the girls who are hitting on him, but seriously sometimes I just want to yell, scream and send bitchy emails that say: stay the fuck away from my boyfriend! A lot of it is just this feeling that these girls just aren’t good enough for him, but some of it is also that I fear he is dating girls who I see as having serious red flags, who are going to get really attached to him and make his and my life more complex and annoying. But, explain it away all I can, some of it is just flat out, seething jealousy.

And this is the thing - I can intellectualize this feeling, I can process it, I can… whatever. But it’s still there, and I don’t know what to do with it. I have to tell him flat out that I’m jealous, and ask him to do things to reassure me and make me feel secure. But I hate the jealous feeling, and I hate having to admit it to him, because I fear that it makes me look crazy and emotional, two things I despise.

Posted by Dacia at 08:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

My jerk off cave

Last night I had an impromptu dinner and hang out session with my ex, who I’ve known for seven years, dated for almost five, and is a pretty awesome friend all ‘round. Though of course he knows that I’m a sex-obsessed perv, he doesn’t know the whole story (the group sex, the whoring, the blog, the naked on the internet stuff).

Recently I’ve been contemplating telling him everything, because it’s weird to have such a close friend not know the full story. Though I know that he wouldn’t stop talking to me over it, I do think he’d be weirded out, as he is made uncomfortable by a lot of sex stuff. I know that, in many respects, that’s his problem, but I still hesitate to come out to him. It’s something of an ongoing dilemma.

Last night, however, was a good test of his tolerance, because like I said, our get together wasn’t planned, so we had dinner and then strolled back to my house to watch a movie, smoke some weed and drink some beers. On the walk back, I kept picturing the various pieces of incriminating evidence lying around my place: A bag overflowing with condoms. Various bottles of lube on the bedside table. My Hitachi. My Dacia business cards. And let’s not forget, heaps and heaps of PORN.

I’ve moved my apartment around since the last time he was here, so he had to have a look around. Basically, I have my computer and bookshelves in the living room, while the bedroom has enough room for only sleeping, fucking, and watching movies. After selecting a movie, we flopped down on my bed and he noticed the mountain of porn surrounding my tv, dvd player and vcr. It became obvious that by “watching movies” I meant that I watch copious amounts of porn: when he pressed some buttons on my dvd/vcr, it promptly spit out a porn vid and a porn dvd.

We had a good hard laugh, and he dubbed my bedroom my “jerk off cave,” with some good-humored derision.

Posted by Dacia at 01:24 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

This consumer's report: Seasonale

November 27, 2004

I’ve been on various birth control pills for about five years now. I started out on OrthoTricyclen, probably one of the more popular pills because it is low in estrogen (which does not make it any less effective) and can also help to reduce acne. The big side effect it had on me was that it make my D-cup tits grow another cup size - and it also made them weirdly firm and painful to the touch. So Ortho didn’t last too long. I then switched very happily to another low-estrogen pill, Alesse, which I was on until last spring, when Seasonale made is debut on the scene.

Before Seasonale, I’d done a bit of research (though this article is almost taken word-for-word from a Seasonale press release, for the skeptical) on continuous birth control, and had been taking Alesse continuously for sixth months, with a break every three (after consulting with my doctor of course). This means I wasn’t using the period break of a week of sugar pills, and so menstruating less often. Seasonale is a pill that you take continously, taking a break to menstruate every three months - and though many women take other pills continuously and have for years with the blessings of their doctors, Seasonale is the first to be advertised and packaged this way.

There has been a lot of hype and fear about how continuous birth control just isn’t natural - well folks, there are a hell of a lot of unnatural things we do to our bodies (like, oh, consume dairy products and genetically altered foods), so to this I will say - do your research and pick your poisons. The big arugument for continuous birth control and the realignment of thoughts around this issue is the fact that when the Pill was developed in the late 1950s, it was created to give women their period for espoused “cultural reason” and these have stuck. Seasonale is definitely awesome for women with dsymenorrhea (extremely painful periods) and has also been recommended for sufferers of endometriosis. And of course it’s great for girls like me, who just dislike having the monthly visit from Aunt Flo.

My first three month cycle of Seasonale was ok - I had some spotting during the last three weeks but then I had a horrendous period, with heavier bleeding than I’ve had before. I’ve just completed the second cycle, and this time around was much better. I had some premenstrual cramping but I’m totally spoiled by the rarity of my period, so you should probably shouldn’t listen to me about that. As any new pill, it’s supposed to take two cycles for your body to adjust.

I would say that the biggest argument against trying Seasonale - other than being suspicious of it generally, which is reason enough if that’s how you feel - is the price. I believe the sticker price is $120 for a three month pack, though most major health insurance carriers are now covering part of the expense (cost to you $60 on Oxford, $50 on Aetna). Depending on what your prescription copay is, it might not be financially worth it. The other option, which is how I got on it, is asking your ob-gyn for a sample pack or two, as most docs are interested in hearing feedback and can hook you up (I speak from experience on that one).

Anyway, since I know a lot of women are curious about Seasonale but don’t know a lot of ladies on it, I thought I’d share my experiences. But remember: these are my experiences, and someone with a different set of hormones will likely have a different experience (which I’m happy to hear about). Consult your doctor and all that responsible stuff.

Posted by Dacia at 02:40 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Personal dynamics

November 26, 2004

So, a bit more on Tuesday evening�s adventures�

Really, I managed to tell most of the good stuff in my post on Wednesday, but as always I�ve been busily thinking away about the dynamic of the evening and the way that everything panned out.

With sex parties, as with everything, practice makes perfect. Over the past year, Dirck and I have been to a number of parties of various sizes, and I think we�re finally starting to get our groove on a little bit. Our biggest successes have always been at very small events where we know everyone; when we go to big swinger parties, we usually retreat full of hate and self doubt. Toby�s party went well because it was a nice combination of people we knew and people we didn�t, in a comfortable and familiar atmosphere.

My only big beef about the party was that it was supposedly a bi-male party, and I didn�t see any of that going on. Perhaps this is because I was in my own private state of cock reverie, but I think that there were also two other factors in this: 1) there were a larger number of girls present than there usually are and 2) one unsavory newcomer loudly proclaimed that he would need ecstasy in order to �gay it up.� The combination of the lures of tits and pussy and the general uncoolness of homophobia can definitely make a tentatively bi boy want to keep his dick away from other guys, I suppose. Sad for me though, as I still have not seen the elusive boy-on-boy action.

Dirck and I are learning the ropes, but of course there is the ever present doubt � mostly from Dirck.

On the cab ride home, he brought up a fear that I thought I�d been able to banish: he thinks that he is holding me back at these parties by his mere presence. Because willing girls are sometimes a rarity in the sex party scene, I know that I am a hot commodity in that sense. Dirck believes that if I were to go it alone or just disregard his presence while he�s there, I would have a lot more fun and get a lot more laid. While in the purely objective sense this is probably true, it�s not at all what I want. Sure, hot sex is what I�m after, but I really want to be at these parties with Dirck � it�s something particular to him and my feelings for him. I want to share the experience with him, not just have him there as back up. I really tried to explain this all to him, but for some reason he has this wall up against understanding it. Its frustrating, and I definitely have done my best to prove � with both words and actions � that this is true for me, but ultimately I guess he has to warm to it himself.

Posted by Dacia at 01:53 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Lick-by-lick*

November 24, 2004

I was the first to arrive at Toby�s, which meant we had time to catch up while scattering candles, condoms and lube in all the right places throughout his apartment.

Of course, the next to arrive was my ex Jake with a date in tow. This turned out to be fine � we hugged each other hello, did some general updates on our respective lives, and it was no problem. Things didn�t even get awkward later when we were naked � Jake, Thomas and Toby were all very respectful (the first two probably just because of fear) and didn�t try to get in my, er, not-pants.

After everyone was there, with drinks in hand and conversation rolling, Toby stage-whispered to me, �This is the part of the party where everyone is wondering, when do we start fucking? how does that happen?� We debated on the best tactics to get the ball rolling, and he declared that he likes to pick on the weak ones, the folks who will take their clothes off at the drop of a hat. He pointed to a guy who is a regular, and instructed him to follow. So of course Dirck and I went along too. I peeled down to my skiivies and quickly realized that I was the only girl in the room, so I returned to the living room to recruit. The girls didn�t seem quite ready to go, so I returned to the bedroom, where Dirck gave me a solid, ear-drum blasting spank.

Now, many of you may recall that generally, I am not particularly interested in doing naked-type things that don�t involve my girl parts, or the parts of some other girl or boy. But for some reason, last night I was really keen on getting spanked.

This was not a problem, as there was a hot girl who was very happy to administer a thorough spanking. I grabbed onto one of Toby�s bookshelves (securely part of the wall), pointed my ass at her and let her have her way with me, as Dirck pinched my nipples and pulled my hair. She knew what she was doing � she even stopped a few times to check in with me and introduce herself. After she was finished with me, my whole ass was nice and red and warm, and I needed to take a minute to recover.

Orgy tip #1: Get an ass trashing. Let people feel the rosy warmth of your freshly spanked ass. Then make out with them.

The post-spanking make out session allowed me to lure two girls into the back backroom with me and Dirck. At this point, let me just lay claim to the fact that I get, shall we say, enthralled when there are lots of naked boobies and touching and nice things, which makes it difficult to perfectly reconstruct these moments. Let�s just say: there was some naked stuff happening.

This naked stuff led into Dirck and I fucking the hell out of each other. And, although I absolutely love watching people fuck, when Dirck fucks me, my whole world closes in, and he is all I know. This is a little jarring when there are other people around � when I came to after a while I realized we had gotten a bit of an audience.

And I was thirsty. So I made my naked way to the bottles of water (seasoned orgy-giver that Toby is, he is always stocked with the water, snacks and safer sex supplies) and got to chatting with one of Toby�s regulars.

Orgy tip #2: If there is someone you�re interested in, compliment them. This is totally not creepy, and gives the object of your erection (uh, I mean, affection) an easy in and an easy out.

I was interested, so I rounded up Dirck and took the two boys into one of the bedrooms. Almost instantly I dropped to my knees for a rather full mouthful of two cocks. I am impressed with my level of coordination, because I believe that in addition to conquering two cocks in one mouth, I am mastering the art of sucking one cock while delivering a handjob to the other. At different tempos even!

All this cock sucking added up to me deserving continuous cock from two different guys � they really fucked the hell out of me, and it was so fabulous that I definitely have a case of scrambled eggs today.

Now let me explain this crass slang, developed by Dirck and I to describe a distinct sensation. You see, the female orgasm causes the uterus to contract. Repeated and ferocious orgasms make this only more so, so that the uterus is strong, like an iron fist! (Or something like that). In my case, intense and repeated orgasms make my uterus feel tired and worn out and my lower regions feel sore the next day. Hence, scrambled eggs.

But oh yes, I want more.

This post is preposterously long. I have more to say (don�t I always), so I have to do this:

To be continued�

*Title courtesy of a comment from Garrison Steele on yesterday’s post, demanding so-called “lick-by-lick details.”

Posted by Dacia at 05:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Cast of characters

November 23, 2004

So as to avoid what tomorrow may be a lot of explaining interrupting a good story, I will do some explaining right now.

Tonight, Dirck and I are attending a sex party thrown by my dear friend and former boss, Toby (reportedly he does not like his assigned pseudonym, so there may be some argument over that). He throws these parties twice a month. Initially, they were parties for bi-curious men, but have grow a bit in other directions. There are, I am told, usually up to 15 people at these parties. I have never gone to one, for a variety of reasons, including the fact that maybe it is weird to go to sex party hosted by my former boss. After much discussion, we’ve decided this is ok, and maybe even extremely cool.

That’s not the complicated part though.

Jane used to go to these parties. She started going back when she would be the only girl there, and she would enthusiastically encourage the bi-boys to fuck each other while she beat off to the scene. And she would fuck them also, but she would not fuck Toby.

At one such party Jane met a boy, Thomas. She took him home and taught him some new tricks. She brought him to a small gathering at my house last spring, wherein he fucked my then-roommate Darren. Thomas and Darren fucked a lot after that. I’ve never fucked Thomas (though I’ve fucked both Jane and Darren), and have on several bourbon-fueled occassions been inexplicably mean to him. Rumor has it that he still thinks I’m cool.

Another boy who is a recent addition to Toby’s parties is Jake. Jake is an ex of mine. He has also fucked Jane and dated Darren for a while, and at the last Toby party, there was some mutual cocksucking between Jake and Thomas.

Still with me? It’s a little outrageous, I know. You can see why it requires a backstory.

The thing is, at Toby’s party tonight, Thomas and Jake will be present. I sent an email to Jake yesterday (we haven’t spoken in a year) saying hi and that I won’t make things awkward if he doesn’t. I don’t think things with Thomas will be awkward. I am planning to stay away from the bourbon.

Sit tight kids. Hopefully I will have entertaining things to report tomorrow.

Posted by Dacia at 02:48 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Carpal tunnel

November 22, 2004

Recently, I’ve been waking up a few times a week with serious pain, stiffness and cramping in my wrists (especially the right one), fingers (especially on the left hand) and soreness in the muscles of both.

This morning, I figured out why: excessive and rigorous masturbation. I pieced these things together because after sleeping through my alarm and waking half an hour before my morning class, I was angry and decided that the best way to cope with this would be with furious masturbation. As soon as I settled into a rhythm, I thought - ack, that nasty pain is back this morning. And then I realized the pain was in my jerk-off muscles.

Maybe I need to light some candles, listen to some Celine Dion, use some massage oil and take it down a notch, because seriously: ouch. I think I am damaging myself. And without masturbation, what am I? A very very cranky girl. Maybe its time to get that third arm implant. That’s all I’m putting on my Xmas list this year, a full operational third arm, to be located on my left side, slightly below my present arm.

Posted by Dacia at 03:09 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

So many toys...

November 17, 2004

So, it finally happened. I have acquired so many sex toys that I can no longer shut the underbed storage container that is my toy box.

I guess in the range of problems it’s possible to have, this is not a bad one. But it makes the quick grab for a toy a little more complex, as things end up all over the floor, or I get distracted by a different toy. Though I must say, as someone who is typically very indecisive about everything, I always know which sex toy I want to play with.

Over the last few years, I’ve been making a concerted effort to purchase only silicone toys, unless they are super-duper special. Silicone is able to be sterilized (by boiling the toys), which means that they can be kept nice and clean, plus they look prettier longer. The entire reason I bought tongs is so I can sterilize my toys without burning myself.

But now, although I love the fuck out of my silicone toys, I believe I have a new toy obsession: acrylic, pyrex and glass. You know, the really hard stuff. I bought my first such toy this week. It’s made of acrylic, which means that it’s slightly porous and can’t be completely sterlized, so I have to condom it if I want to share it. But its curve is just right to hit my g-spot, and I love how hard it is, which allows me to grip my muscles tightly around it, get a nice PC workout and come reeeeeallly hard. Oh, and then there is the other end, which sends shudders through my whole body when I rub it just two inches into myself.

It probably won’t take you three guesses to figure out what I spent my afternoon doing.

Posted by Dacia at 04:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

My name

November 16, 2004

In the comments section of my last post, I was contacted by a man whose wife’s legal name is Dacia Ray and has been getting asked relentlessly if she has any connection to Waking Vixen. I’ve also gotten a number of emails (not all at once) that I’ve been too lazy to reply to about the origin of my pseudonym. And so I present to you, the story of “Dacia Ray” and how she came to be. But first, I must give you the nerd alert. Okay, you’ve been warned.

A number of years ago, while doing a shitload of research on nineteenth century history of sexuality, free love, free speech and abortion, I came across and fell in love with Victoria Woodhull. She was the first female stockbroker in New York, ran a business with her sister Tennessee Claflin, practiced free love, was a spiritualist, and ran for president in 1872. She created a good amount of scandal in late nineteenth century New York, especially with the paper Woodhull & Claflin’s Weekly, which she ran with her sister. In 1872, Woodhull published an article she’d written exposing a sex scandal involving the much-beloved Brooklyn clergyman Henry Ward Beecher. Harriet Beecher Stowe, the preacher’s sister (yes, and author of Uncle Tom) then wrote a serialized story, My Wife and I, about a rather audacious newspaperwoman who she portrayed as a hussy. The character is a thinly veiled version of Woodhull, and her name is Audacia Dangyereyes.

Since learning all about Woodhull, I decided that if I were to ever do porn or sex stuff under an assumed name, that name had to be Audacia Dangyereyes. So when I first started this blog, it was under the name of Audacia Dangyereyes. My AOL instant messenger handle, audangyer, is the remnant of that. My first blog-related email account was audacia1872, before I acquired my domain name and all that. Yes, much dorkiness to be had.

But then I got my porn review writing gig, and they wanted a more regular sounding name, as mine was a bit of a mouthful. So, some rethinking was in order.

I often signed things as “Dacia,” a shortened version of “Audacia,” plus I liked the fact that the name was a province of ancient Rome that later became Romania. So I chose “Dacia,” rooted in an ancient culture I’m fascinated by, and paying homage to Woodhull, a crazy activist in another time period I love.

I chose “Ray” as my last name as another bit of homage, but this time to the surrealist artist Man Ray. My tattoo is inspired by Ray’s photograph “Le violin d’Ingres,” so I thought that would be fitting.

I like homage, because it gives me a chance to show my respect (and over-demonstrate my fierce nerdiness) but I also take these things and make them mine. How very postmodern of me.

Posted by Dacia at 03:56 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Devour

November 15, 2004

I�ve been writing around casual, wanton sex a lot recently, ruminating on its absence, thinking about being a horny hermit, all these things.

There�s a lot to be said against one time, furtive encounters, especially as I get more experience under my belt (heh heh) and casual sex gets blurred with the paid sex and I lose track of why I�d want to hook up with someone who may or not be awesome for no money.

But maybe I know why: I love the hunt, the pursuit.

And I love the flirt, the tease, the first kiss, the wandering hands, the exploration.

More than that, I love the heat. I love those moments of animal chemistry, the need to devour someone and feel their skin, their response to me.

I know, it�s not like I have this chemistry with lots of people, but � I crave it, the knot in my stomach, the fierce explosion of the raw newness of our bodies to each other.

But, it�s occurred to me that perhaps this feeling has gone the way of fantasy � you know, fantasy, that thing that I think about but don�t necessarily act out. This is sort of new territory for me, since usually my fantasies are short lived: I conceive of something I might like to do, and then I make it happen, because I�m industrious like that.

Posted by Dacia at 09:12 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Lust and hibernation

November 14, 2004

Since starting my MA this fall, I�ve settled into a pattern when it comes to weekends: basically, I hide. Sometimes this hiding out includes a friend, but more often it is just me, in my pajamas, reading and writing furiously.

I�m entering that delightful tunnel-vision time in the semester, where my legs feel funny when I stand up, where I sit amongst a stack of books, scribbling notes, chasing primary sources through the library systems, a little bleary-eyed but mentally alive.

It�s peculiar, trying to create a balance between the brain and the body. I swing along on a kind of pendulum, spending weekends like these or nights up to here with carnal pursuits, sometimes hitting my stride and blending the two.

I haven�t been having as much partnered sex as I�d like � I know, boo-fucking-hoo right? Dirck and I have sex once a week if we�re lucky, but usually it�s once every two weeks. Which in many respects is awful, because I�d really like to be fucking him daily. But life intervenes.

Over the past six months or so, I�ve been thinking a lot about this issue of balance in my life. Essentially, I�m quite the introvert. The complication is that I�m an introvert with a voracious sexual appetite. When I bend more frequently to my lust for partnered sex, I find myself getting cranky about not having enough time to myself. So lately I�ve been dealing with this the old-fashioned way � lots of masturbation, with some pining for partnered sex, but also with the knowledge that having another body around is awesome, except that body will probably want to talk afterwards and won�t just teleport outta here.

As in all things, it�s about balance, and balance is about compromise. And compromise means that brat that I am, I won�t always get what I want, partly because what I want in a certain moment isn�t always what I need. Except with chocolate, where want and need are one and the same.

Posted by Dacia at 01:21 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Illuminata and an encouraging fall day

November 12, 2004

Yesterday, after a bit of hustle and bustle in my little corner of Pornoland, I met up with my brother, who was in town doing music stuff, stuffed myself with a burrito, spent a few hours with Gracie (no handjobs, just playing with her kitties and catching up) and then trekked to Hell�s Kitchen and Art @ Large for the opening for Barbara Nitke�s latest photographs.

I�ve been following Nitke�s work for the past bunch of years, especially since I worked on an exhibition that included several of her photographs of CA porn shoots. She�s been developing a lawsuit against everybody�s favorite, John Ashcroft, and Lisa Vandever (director of CineKink) is making a documentary about her legal battles. So, Nitke�s been very much in my sexual-political consciousness of late, which is nice and all, but all that really pales in comparison to her art.

Nitke has been described as showing the human side of BDSM � I definitely take issue with that turn of phrase, because BDSM is a human expression, so of course there is a �human side� to it. At the same time, however, I can understand (but dislike!) this phrase as operating under the assumption that BDSM is all about mean tops and pathetic bottoms who �whoda thunkit? � have very tender relationships with one another.

Fifth Angel and Slave Leslie, III

What I like about her work is that this new batch of photographs goes beyond tenderness, and into a land of exuberance, with the thrill of exploration and fulfillment of desire.

It was a good day, full of food, sunny crisp fall weather, and feeling at home with smart pervs. In so many ways, a perfect New York day.

Posted by Dacia at 06:52 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

I'm a porno pirate

November 03, 2004

No really, an actual pirate.

City Kittie did a superfast turnaround on the stuff I shot with them this past weekend, so if you go to my page, you can see a few of my sample pics, plus a tease from the video I did for them. If you shell out some cash money, you get to see 30-odd pics, plus a video of me stuffing toys in various orifices.

Posted by Dacia at 01:04 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Election Night

Last night I watched the election results with Dirck and his roommate, and we were prepared to make a night of it: we had a shitload of scotch, a freshly baked cake and a stack of porn for when we wanted to take a break from the election madness. And what madness it was.

Dirck�s roommate was really excited that I was playing porn fairy, because now that I can feed him free porn, he lets his collection stagnate until I bring him the free stuff. As we got drunker, he decided to go upstairs and enjoy the porn, leaving Dirck and I to monitor the cake baking. Of course we decided to do some multitasking, with me bent over, bracing myself against the oven, and him pounding away at me from behind. Have you ever tried to take a cake out of the oven with a cock in you? It takes a lot of concentration.

Once the cake was safely cooling on the counter, we turned our attentions to full on kitchen fucking, with him rifling through the utensil drawer (while fucking me of course) and smacking my ass with various implements of cookery. We liked the spatula the best � it was the kind that has small slats in it, which meant lots of sting. My ass still bears the faint redness of a spatula-smacking this morning.

We also made use of his kitchen table, which is the perfect height for him to rub my g-spot to exploding point. Which is exactly what happened � in an uncontainable moment, I showered him, the table and the kitchen floor with female ejaculate. This made the floor nice and slippery, which increased the challenges. So we drunkenly slid around on my come, fucked each other into oblivion, and had a jolly good time.

I�m sure Dirck and I will be thinking of last night when we eat Thanksgiving dinner with his parents at that kitchen table.

Posted by Dacia at 09:01 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Truth in porn

November 01, 2004

On Saturday afternoon, I got naked for CityKittie, a new punk rock porn site that just got up and kicking this past month. And yes, I’ll let you all know when the pics are up.

I’ve always maintained that the thing I do best on camera is sex, the tease and pose stuff just feels awkward to me. This is partly because I’ve never personally understood the appeal of these more softcore images, I want to see spread pussy! But somehow, I’m becoming more adept at this looking cute thing, even if it feels weird.

As much as I support and get off to amateur porn, there is definitely a degree to which the sexualities displayed in any kind of porn just cannot be authentic. The CityKittie photographer and I joked around a lot: “Yeah, this is how I masturbate, in this contorted position, with my back arched like so.”

So I’ve been thinking a lot about whether truth in porn is possible - okay, more than that, can the truth be hot? Because, sure I love it when Dirck and I fuck with me flat on my stomach and him lying on top of me, but shit, it looks painfully boring on film. What feels great often looks really lame. But then you get the other extreme, where things both feel and look lame - here I’m thinking of the lesbian kisses you see in mainstream porn, tongues on the outside of the mouth. Ew and yawn.

Mainstream porn is shot much like any Hollywood movie, with lots of takes and cuts, several cameras shooting different angles, the director giving instructions to the performers, etc. Of course the individuality of the performers can come through a bit, especially with the more experienced performers who have something of a calling card (like Inari Vachs’ slobbery blow jobs). But basically, there is rarely anything spontaneous about the sex, it’s very mechanical. Sure you’re watching fucking, but often the heat of sexuality has dissipated. So, we turn to amateur porn for authentic enthusiasm for sex. But the problem that the amateur stuff runs into is that it often captures the heat but doesn’t show the goods very well. Can real sex be hot porn, or is porn always just a representation of sex and not the real thing?

I have seen some smut that gives me hope, but there is also just so much crap out there. But maybe people less picky and critical than I am are happy with the mainstream porn fare? It’s hard for me to say, since I live in a bubble.

Posted by Dacia at 02:01 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack