Fuzzy Secretary Santa

You wanna take pictures of a scantily clad phone sex operator for fun? Although my plea for a photographer on FetLife was not much more sophisticated than that, an aspiring erotic photographer by the FetLife handle of "Quicksilver84" took me up on the offer anyway, and we spent a few hours this afternoon taking pics of me.

Although not as luminescent as my 40th birthday photos in Vivian Ronelle's impeccably lit studio, I was happy that Quicksilver captured a few great moments. It should be enough for a month or two to feed this blog, and to send to callers (I know I know, I'm months behind on thank-you follow-ups, I'm sorry...).

My plan right now is to break the pictures out in three separate posts, but just in case I get lazy or distracted, here were the three concepts:

First, "What are you wearing?" has been answered a lot lately with "my fuzzy pink bath robe and slippers, plus undies" so I thought I'd provide a view into what that looks like on a good day:

Robe, slippers, undies

That's me in The Red Room, with the rope lights at the place where the wall slants on purpose, ready to be wrapped up and snuggled, or unwrapped and... well, that part's up to you.

Secondly, I was long overdue for a good secretary look, and I have a caller with a thing for textured tights, platform heels, and a good ponytail to grab, so I dug back into my memories of my white-collar professional days for a look that started off like this:

You wanted something, sir?

By the end of that outfit, the strapless corset and tights were fully exposed, and the use for the ponytail was glaringly evident to anyone paying attention.

Last, but certainly not least, Mrs. Claus got a bit of an update for 2011.

You've been very naughty

Oh, gracious. That is... ummm... quite an update indeed. She seems a bit ... angry? Power-hungry? Eager to find a target for that flogger? Maybe it's best if she goes back to checking her list.

Thankfully, I remembered to ask for at least one good horizontal shot because Kiwi Candy asked me for a new banner. She's re-doing her listings and her blog ... again... the woman seriously puts the rest of us to shame with her work ethic, bless her darling little slutty heart. So I popped this together for her:

I think it's warm and friendly and playful and inviting, but I'm much more interested in what you think of it - I'd love a comment or an email telling me whether or not you would click it if you saw it in the wild.

Overall, there were some lessons learned: I need to re-think the lighting in my Red Room, I probably shouldn't wear red things in The Red Room, and I should let the photographer help me put my stockings on next time, since it turns out it's kind of a thing with him.

All in all, it was a fun, affirming afternoon with a charming young man. (He's 27, so he's just young by comparison. I didn't do anything illegal, don't worry) Productive fun was had by all!

Lingerie Bar

Lingerie Bar in The Red Room

My sister came in to help me unpack the last two days. It was amazing to hang out with her relationally, of course, but she's also a whirlwind organizer. Not only did we get the kitchen and guest room completely settled, but she created the Lingerie Bar.

I knew I wanted the Fuckatorium 3.0 (aka The Red Room) to only contain sexy Galiana things. Necessities, therefore, include: a couch (I learned the hard way a couch is comfier than a bed for lounging with a computer for hours), laptop (for blog posts, email, Twitter, and catching up on others' sexy blogs, like Kink In Exile who mentioned me this weekend - awww thanks Alisa!), sex toys (they're in here, but not yet unpacked), and, of course, lingerie. No sexy space is complete without lingerie, right?

A few awesome folks got me housewarming Amazon gift cards, which I used to buy, among other things, an adjustable garment rack, intending it for Fuckatorium lingerie. When it turned out we needed the garment rack for my non-lingerie clothes (I overflowed the tiny century-old closet), my sister immediately saw the possibilities in the shower rod we had replaced (I love curved shower curtain rods - they make the shower feel so much roomier). Why not hang the shower rod from the angled ceiling to act as a clothes rack?

A couple of hooks, a bit of bondage rope, and voilà, the Lingerie Bar was born! I love it sooooo much.

As I hung everything on the awesome new fuzzy-grippy hangers my sister generously provided me, I relished the memories that drifted up: photo shoots, play times with lovers old and new, evenings on cam, evenings shooting videos, the delight of opening gifts, and the look on my husband's face when we were first dating and I knocked at his door wearing *that*. Delicious.

Why yes, that is a shoe rack next to the Lingerie Bar! And yes, those are new strappy silver heels I expect to wear soon, since they match the new silver headband... Not that I've been hoping the Fuckatorium can pass for a robot lab or anything. Pffff. Don't be ridiculous.

Speaking of ludicrous, that splash of plaid is definitely not a skirt headed for a barely-legal babysitter fantasy video anytime soon. That would ridiculous - I'm 41 years old, I could never pull that off, not even in braids if I were sucking on a lollipop.

The same goes for that red cheerleader skirt and pompoms if I were wearing pigtails... Absurd. I mean, nobody would ever fantasize about their middle-aged wife surprising them with a flashback role play, I'm certain of it.

And that satin nightshirt I've had since college, who would want to see a video of me demonstrating how I masturbate myself to sleep while wearing that?

It's not even worth considering putting a lacy bra and panties, a garter belt, and stockings under that feather-lined vintage-inspired robe to discuss my preferences and techniques when I'm wearing a strap-on.

I'm hoping to shoot more video in this new space... it seems I have a decent start on inspiration, doesn't it?

Settling In

I realized today that I've been doing something extraordinary for the past ten days: settling in.

I think my time in Houston never felt permanent enough to feel like I had settled into any kind of pattern. I remember a stretch of four days where I felt a calm sense that I knew what to expect, and I didn't have any looming, unknown, massive tasks. Four days out of seven months is not a fantastic record.

But we plan to be here in the great plains of central Illinois for at least a couple of years (where the sunsets have, I must admit, been far more spectacular than I remembered... I think it's a ploy to lull me into a sense of welcome. It's working.). Hopefully, we'll be in this same quirky, slanty, cozy house with the nice neighbors and the gorgeous trees.

So now that most of the functional unpacking has been done, as well as enough decorative unpacking to make the place feel like it's ours, I'm finding a pattern emerging:

* Early mornings on weekdays, since the hub has to get up anyway, he feeds the dogs and lets them outside, then puts them back in their crates to let me wake up on my own rhythms. On weekends, the dogs get morning routine from whoever can't sleep through them whining at us anymore, or from whoever needs to get up to go to the bathroom first

* When I wake up, I've continued a thing I started in Houston, which is: snuggle time on the couch with the dogs. I set aside about an hour to wake up slowly, sipping caffeine, making a coherent to-do list for the day, playing iPhone games, and giving the dogs the freedom to choose the activity: I always say yes to tug, fetch, and tummy rubs during snuggle time, and eventually I am rewarded with two dozing lap-warmers. Snuggle time ends when they inevitably bound off the couch to investigate a neighborhood noise and I need to stretch my legs and get my day started.

* My days have been mixed. I've tried to group together times when I had to wait for return phone calls, service or repair people, or freecyclers to pick up our packing boxes, because waiting on things like that means it's impossible to log in for phone sex. When I've had appointments (between 10am and 4pm Central time), I've given the pups rawhides and left them safely on the other side of the baby gate in the dog-proofed downstairs, while I head upstairs to The Red Room (aka the Fuckatorium 3.0) to lose myself in delicious fantasies.

* From 4pm to 8pm has become family time: the dogs need dinner and an outside break, the hub gets home for an hour or less of domestic chores, then we have dinner and unwinding together time, possibly mixed with more snuggle time on the couch, and then I lose him to his very steady girlfriend The Internet, with all her fun things to learn and ridiculous memes to giggle over, or to his primary lover Video Games, with all her things to build and strategize and shoot, and I head back up to The Red Room to log in. Eventually, sleepies overtake me and I stumble downstairs and crawl into the bed he's been keeping warm for me.

It's a lovely rhythm. It feels sustainable and calm. It protects enough time and energy for my primary romantic relationship, provides enough affectionate touch to keep me sane, and yet leaves plenty of time and energy for all my other connections: friends, family, and the gorgeous lush playgrounds where I luxuriate with callers.

And luxuriate I have... I've discovered a distinct advantage a roof-slanted room: when I'm lying on the couch, I can anchor one foot against the wall-ceiling angled above me, which lets me buck my hips up in a really interesting way.

Ooo, and I had an extraordinarily happy re-discovery of my Feeldoe: it was the only "dildo" I could find one day on a call before I unpacked my sex toys, so I used the long end of it to fuck myself while using the short egg-shaped end to press against my clit (that's the side that is inside me when I use it as it was intended, as a strapless strap-on). And holy overload, Batman, the sensations are an amazing mimic of the pressure against my clit during missionary fucking if a lover is grinding his pubic bone into me. Which I love. A lot. It's my new favorite thing to feel when I'm masturbating.

The room seems perfect to hold my sexual energy, the couch and desk chair offer lots of options for comfy positions whether I'm typing or fucking, and the glare-free lighting is easy to spend time in. It seems perfect so far.

Welcome to the next season of my life. I think it's going to be wonderful.

Crooked Little House

Casual in The Red Room

The walls aren't straight. The floors aren't straight. The tub in the bathroom struggles a bit to drain because the floor is almost as tilted as the tub. We sleep downstairs, in part, because we're a tiny bit concerned that one day the top of the house might decide to pay a friendly visit to the bottom of the house.

I'm talking about my new home, as of October 1. It's charming and adorable in that way that century-old homes can be, with a spider-web-filled basement and not quite enough electrical outlets, but fun architectural moldings around the archways downstairs and a cozy wrap-around porch for warm weather neighboring.

The upstairs was clearly an afterthought: attic space enclosed when someone made a bit of cash, all the walls tilt inward along the roof slope, and possibly done before building codes were quite as rigorous as they hopefully would be today.

None of this concerns you, except the part where I hung up rope lights in the new Fuckatorium for diffused lighting, set up my desk, set up the couch, and then saw... wait... why doesn't the rope light line up parallel at the top of the screen? And why is one end of the couch further away than the other end from the rope light?

This investigation led me to discover out that the floor is subtly crooked enough that the picture doesn't line up square unless I prop up one side of my desk. Oh, hi, door wedges, I'm so glad now that I unpacked you already, and that you no longer have to live in the junk drawer.

The Fuckatorium 3.0 is not quite ready for a prime time video just yet. But the picture above was indeed taken tonight in the new space. It is 9 feet wide at the floor, 18 inches wide at the ceiling, 22 feet long, and painted a deep, sexy, brick red. We call it "The Red Room". It is a crazy, insane, bizarre space. Perfect for me, don't you think?

I just showed my husband the tilt in the floor. He helped me figure out the most level place for the couch. Then he said, "Great. I have a wife with rare neurological vertigo, and I picked out a crooked house for her to live in..." and then looked a little sad. So I recited the poem "There Was A Crooked Man" while getting the dogs to dance along to the rhythm of the words. Now it will be stuck in our minds forever when we think of this place, I'm sure.

I have noticed that sometimes I have to figure out if I'm dizzy or if the floor is just funny right in that spot. It's oddly comforting when it's the floor. My brain might eventually just go "awwww fuck it" and stop trying to balance me altogether..

Most importantly, the rope lights + the red walls make me feel all cozy and dreamy and sultry in here. The decorating concept this time around is "bare minimum" - I won't do anything in The Red Room except be Galiana. My non-lingerie clothes, my guest bed, my jewelry, etc is all elsewhere this time around. The Red Room is just for video and pictures and phone calls.

I look forward to you dropping by!

Stuff to Buy Reorg

I have reorganized my Stuff to Buy page (Stuff to Buy) so now the main page has info about custom pricing, but then splits into three pages to list things for sale: MP3s, Photo Sets, and Videos.

Even though I only have 2 MP3s available at the moment, it still had to be the first page because I needed them to be alphabetical, even though videos sell better for me than photos MP3s. I am slightly annoyed by my own impracticality on that issue...

I'm sure you've noticed the flurry of pay-to-view announcements lately on my blog. The truth is, I had a few things holding me back from producing more content: My "Stuff to Buy" page was a mess and it made me cringe to add things to it, my ordered list of what to do to publish new content was a mess and it made me cringe to follow it, and I had a backlog of stuff I'd already shot that was in various stages of having been produced and it made more sense to me to finish those before I started others.

So I have now finished publishing all the pay-to-views (PTV) that I had started, although I have a few more to announce on the blog (I wanted to intersperse with other types of blog entries as well so the blog isn't solely comprised of pay-to-view announcements). But the hard stuff of editing, listing on NiteFlirt, etc, has been completed.

I swing back and forth: sometimes, I feel like I should just stick with the phones, because it's simpler to get sexy and log in than it is to make content. Then I'll sell some content when I'm away from the phones and feel like I should continue to provide those other revenue streams for myself.

It's all opportunity cost, right? If I spend my energy on my PTV content, I would probably lose my phone sex audience. My phone sex audience likes having stuff to buy, but there aren't enough of them to support making content unless I spend energy promoting my pay-to-view content. It's complicated.

If I were to keep the Fuckatorium in a video-ready state all the time, it would be easier. But I let the dogs play tug-of-war with ropes in there, which fray and leave strings on the carpet. And I have piles of clothes in various levels of put-away-ness (laundry is my nemesis!). And I'm not sure I'm happy with the way the room is arranged for video to start with...

The tortured life of The Girl Who Never Thinks Her Stuff Is Good Enough, right?

Regardless of all my insecure whining, I would appreciate it if you would drop by the rearranged Stuff to Buy pages and tell me if you find them easier to use now. And also, you know, if you want to tell me that seeing all those thumbnails of me drives you complete insane with lust, I'd be up for that, too. Thanks!

Dear Galiana

Dear Galiana,

Since the temperature in the Fuckatorium 2.0 is roughly 7 degrees cooler than the rest of the upstairs, please try not to suddenly develop a drinking problem and dribble ice-cold diet coke over your flimsy lingerie.

Love, Galiana

My Hair Loves Houston & Other Observations

I just took this picture of myself:

... and had some observations to share with you.

* My hair loves Houston. It always has. My top 1000 hair days have been in Houston. Those wavy loose curls are from shampoo and conditioner only - no other product. That is what made my girl friends hate me in the 80s.

* When I don't get enough calls, I get bored and start playing with my camera. It was a slow night. Look what you made me do! Shame on you, you should be deeply, deeply ashamed of yourselves.

* My head does not glow. There's a lamp back there.

* The Fuckatorium 2.0 gets chillier than the rest of the upstairs. I should fix the vent, but instead, I just tossed on my favorite sweater, because I've recently seen ALL my clothes, since I packed and unpacked them, and I knew exactly where it was, and it fit with the whole comfy lazy vibe of the night.

* I'm learning how to use the mirrors with the cam, so you can see my back and front at the same time. I expect my experience to continue to grow, and for the resulting knowledge to cause a re-arrangement of at least some elements in the room.

and last, but certainly not least:

* I look damn happy on my knees.

Fuckatorium 2.0, Blog Post 300!

I have set up The Fuckatorium enough for me to re-open my cam listing, and this is my 300th Blog Post! (queue streamers, horns, ticker tape, merriment and mirth all around)

On 300 blog posts: Considering I started blogging Aug 15, that's a little better than 40 blog posts per month... which is probably too damn many, but I've learned to accept and (usually) love my chattiness. I am proud of many of the things I've written here, and I have been touched again and again by the responses of people who have found the blog.

On the Fuckatorium and cam: I wanted my 300th post to be special, so I spent the day finalizing my space, and I did a little video tour of the finally-set-up-enough-to-unveil Fuckatorium 2.0! Exciting!

(important note: The sound quality on the video is not as good as the sound when you call me - I promise. But I was tired of mucking with the sound and already 2.5 hours behind schedule, so I went with it.)

I hope to eventually transcribe the video and edit this post with that, but for now, I hope you can hear most of it.

The important things are: the Fuckatorium 2.0 is set up enough for me to feel comfortable in it, it's a big room, I have a mirrored wall which are hiding closets full of fun clothes and gear, I have a bookshelf full of sex toys, and I have my bed.

Oh, and I figured out how to show my feet close-up without straining myself (a big improvement over the setup from Fuckatorium 1.0).

Now that this is (mostly) done, I can already feel the energy returning to do all kinds of thing with my web site, my listings, my blog... Seriously, all of my productive energy has been focused on this for the past three days: getting this blog post up with a video and turning my cam listing back on, and yet, while the video was still compressing, ideas starting popping into my head.

Dear Galiana: Please relax and enjoy yourself tonight instead of bopping directly to the next thing without taking time to celebrate, you goofy dork. Love, Galiana

(footnote: my first caller of the evening was phone, not cam, but he was willing to indulge me feeling celebratory, so now I feel like I've had a toast with the best champagne to christen the place... thank you)

Happy happy me!

Back On Phones, and Stories from a Move

After last night's calls, I was surprisingly not obliterated today (in fact, I got most of my clothes unpacked, some laundry done, and some keys duplicated), which means I am comfortable saying that I am back on phones.

The calendar is back up-to-date-ish with my approximate expectations for log-in times.

My cam listing is still inactive, although I hope to activate it next week. Setup in the new Fuckatorium is well underway -- the furniture is in place -- but I want the whole room settled and free of boxes before I cam again. I know, I know, you don't care if I have on makeup or what I'm wearing or if there boxes in the room... but I do, and it's important to me to feel like I am offering my best.

Besides, before I re-start my cam, I want to do a little "Welcome to the Fuckatorium" video / pictures to kick it off right in the new digs. The way you start a thing makes a difference, and I want to start it right.

So. How was the move?

Even though we were surprisingly well prepared for the move, given how little time we had to plan and execute it, the day of the move (Mon Feb 28) was the worst move day I've ever had. We were on track for an okay move day when the movers realized they should have brought a bigger truck. We ended up going to U-Haul and getting another truck, with a tow dolly for our car, so we could fill the second truck, my husband could drive it, and we could tow our car behind the truck.

That unfortunate miscalculation had several unfortunate consequences:
(1) the put-stuff-into-the-truck(s) portion of the move took almost 8 hours, instead of the 3.5 they had allotted, so the day got much longer, and we were all much more tired.
(2) it cost us an extra $200, which theoretically, the moving company "paid us back for" but the move took so much longer than estimated that it didn't feel like it
(3) instead of riding comfortably in the front seat of my car with the two dogs in the back seat (where normally they fall asleep on longer trips), the dogs were on my lap in the U-Haul, pressed against me, shaking and whining, so I spent 3.5 straight hours attempting to calm them instead of resting.
(4) my husband had to concentrate way harder to drive the U-Haul towing a car than he would have if he'd only been driving a normal car, so he was more wiped out when we arrived than he hoped to be.
(5) the jockeying of vehicles at our destination was far more confusing than it needed to be; we had stuff in our car, my father-in-law's pickup truck, the U-Haul, and the movers' truck, and what got unpacked when turned into a grand old time-sink of a conversation.

All in all, I collapsed -- perhaps only partially figuratively -- with the dogs about 11:30 pm, with only about half our stuff in the new place, while my husband stayed up with the movers until they finished at 2 am. TWO A M. /blink /blink ... we were supposed to be finished around 4 pm...

So that wasn't a fun day.

And yet, much fun has been had along the way. My family, my in-laws, and most of my friends are easily amused and readily amusing, so the packing and unpacking processes have been filled with much merriment.

The best example: when I assured my father-in-law I could drive the U-Haul back to the house, despite my vertigo, by saying, "I can do anything for 15 minutes," he got a naughty twinkle in his eye, then politely said, "I ain't touchin' that line..." Yes, it's creepy for your father-in-law to sort of flirt with you, but he wasn't being creepy, and he wasn't flirting, he was just keeping himself from taking bait that I had set up so well that it almost hurt him to avoid it. Most importantly, though, it made me laugh hard on a rough day. 

The place is great: the closets are all about twice as large as I remember, the rooms and back patio are all bigger than I thought they would be, and the relatively low ceilings feel cozier than I thought they would. The neighborhood is full of fantastic restaurants, and handy shops of every kind are within blocks. Yay for urban density (we were in more suburban residential sprawl, where almost everything was at least 15 minutes away).

The unpacking has gone well: my uncle (also now my landlord) did a bunch of cleaning and gardening stuff, so everything looks fantastic. Plus, he gave us the run-down on our neighbors, their dogs, and nearby shops, and showed us all the quirks of the townhouse. My mother and sister have been here to help, so the bathrooms, the newly christened "Sleepatorium", my husband's office, and the Fuckatorium are all functional, and well on their way to being fully unpacked. The downstairs is still a wreck, but we've had enough food brought over to be okay even if we take the weekend to get the kitchen unpacked.

Overall, we feel loved and supported by our family in the area, grateful for our new home, and excited about this new phase of our lives.

As long as I don't have to step foot outside in July or August, we'll be good!  :)

Moving Right Along

You may have noticed that I've been sporadic with my logins in February. I'm finally ready to tell you why: there's a 90% chance that I'm moving to a different city. And if we move, there's a 70% chance it will be at the end of the month (30% chance it will be some time in March).

The circumstances and timing of the move aren't ideal. And moving is never fun. Thankfully, I've moved a lot in my life, and I'm pretty good at it. But this is the first time I've moved with vertigo, so it's a bit of a stress to wonder how much that will affect me.

The good news is, I'll be much closer to my awesome family (mom, sister, nieces) who I love spending time with, so I will be gaining a lot of support and fun. And the other good news is that the place we're (almost certainly) moving to is owned by my uncle, and he's giving us a hell of a deal on a great space. And we have friends and family already scheduling themselves to come by and help us pack. I'm seriously and thoroughly blessed.

Thankfully, my husband and I have the same perspective on this move: we want to greatly simplify how much stuff we have, partially for the feng shui, but more so that we can let the dogs roam freely unsupervised in the new place more often. Here, we have too many tempting chewable things out in the open which are serving no good purpose for anyone anymore. Moving is a great time to get rid of those kinds of things. So although it will take work to sell / give away a bunch of stuff, it should simplify our unpacking process greatly.

I've said time and time again on this blog that I won't log in for phone sex calls unless I'm in a sexy mood. It does my callers no good for me to be half-assed, and it does me no good to do the job if I'm not having fun. Since I will continue to only log in when my sexy tank is full, I will be continue to be unpredictable for the next 3 weeks. I'll update the calendar as well with my best guesses, but they're likely to be wrong a lot. 
I'll probably mostly be logged on for phone sex in the evenings. As always, I'm happy to take specific requests for log-on times, especially during the day, because it is 10 billion times easier to get sexy for one person who I already know to be sex than it is to get sexy for the generic anybody who may call.

Now you may be thinking, "Oh, gosh, I don't want to bother her - I'll just wait until she's settled in to her new place to call again." With all due respect, that's a horrible idea! Because when I have summoned my sexy, I can guaran-damn-tee that I'm in the mood for some hard-core escapism, fantasy, and luxurious sensuality. Don't deprive me!

Nothing clears my mind of worries better than dropping into someone else's sexual energy, whether it be a raw spank-me-pull-my-hair-toss-me-against-the-wall romp, a deep relaxing erotic hypnosis trance, a fantasy transportation to another space and time, me focusing on your service, or a slowly-building tease and release. All of those help me drop out of the cares and concerns of my daily life, and all of them give me energy in return. So by all means, when I'm on, call me.

If you happen to have the urge to offer to help me in other ways, the best gift is an Amazon gift card (sent to galiana @ ymail . com). I always want to get a hundred little things to furnish a new place. For example, I never take brooms or mops with me to a new location, because I don't want to bring old dirt into a new place. The only foods I'll move are spices. Inevitably, I need a new shelf somewhere. I'll probably ruin several blankets and sheets by wrapping things in them... the list goes on and on. You've moved, you know.

Now, if you've been following me closely, you may be asking, "Why did you choose to open a cam listing right before you moved?" It's a solid question, and I'm not sure I have a solid answer, but here's my best guess at the mysterious, nebulous meanderings of Why Galiana Does Strange Stuff:

Up until the day we decided to move, I needed to live as if we weren't moving. It's easy for me to get trapped in the future and forget about living today, and I work hard not to do that to myself. Call it "be here now" or "stop and smell the roses" or "do not borrow trouble from tomorrow, for today has enough troubles of its own"... I work hard to live the life I have today without being paralyzed by what might be tomorrow.

And more specifically/logistically, it was good for me to set up the Fuckatorium for cam, because it was a fantastic chance to figure out what I needed in terms of lighting and shelves and non-distracting, color-balancing, high-contrast-with-flesh-tones background colors. I will almost certainly makes some changes to the setup in the new Fuckatorium, but it was really great to have a version one that has worked so well. 

(Side note: someone found my blog recently by searching Google for "fuckatorium" - how awesome is that?)

On a purely emotional level, the performance anxiety of doing cam was significant for me until I did it for 2 nights. As I said to long-time friend "The Omnivore" during our Valentine's Day call, I can't photoshop on cam. I can't pick which moments to leave out. There's no filter. And I was nervous as hell about it. Thankfully, I had existing callers who were SO nice and SO affirming (thank you!), and a couple of new callers who went well, too.

So now I can let go of the anxiety about cam, and instead look forward to having something that be awesome and fun and new to focus on when I come back online full-steam. I mean, I'll still log on in the next few weeks, and probably be on cam a few times. It's easy for me to see myself wanting to clean up and get all girly and pretty after a day of sorting and hauling and scrounging. (Note to long-nail fetishists: I'm pretty sure I won't be your girl until late March, sorry)

Sometimes I have hunches about the next period of my life, and I had a hunch that this "winter" (Jan/Feb/Mar) would be a time of massive transition for me. Thankfully, the transition seems to only be about where I live. I'm just losing a house. I'm not losing my marriage, or any more of my health, and nobody I love is passing away (knock wood, of course). So all things considered, this is the easiest kind of massive transition: it's work, but it's not trauma. Whew!

So, to summarize: My log-ons will be flaky for the next 3-4 weeks. I look forward to being all moved and settled in to my new phase of life. And I look forward to you catching me when you can in the meantime!

From Last Night

Testing the awesome new cam last night, I changed into my amazing new retro/elegant lingerie from Secrets In Lace, including a robe with ostrich feather trim that I wrote about here.

I can't share the video because after I adjusted the angle, you could see blankets on the floor and other distracting stuff in the margins... and it took me WAY too long to get the garters done, and when I did them, I my fingers weren't facing the camera anyway... and the pillows seriously need replacing...

I have a problem with perfectionism. /cringe

Thankfully, I don't have a problem enjoying myself in the moment.

Proof of that statement: a screen capture from the unusable video:

That's the new robe. The new shoes. The new setup. The new cam. And in that one moment, I think it happened to all be working quite nicely, thank you. 

Tonight: set up!!'

I got the ca-aaam! I got the ca-aaam!

But because my mind works in mysterious ways, I can't plug it in until the room is ready. I thought I'd be able to do it halfway, but no.

So I probably won't be online tonight unless I get an email luring me to something sexy, but if you want to talk to happy me full of positive energy-moving, write me!!

Galiana In Virtual Oil

My husband paints sometimes to clear his mind, usually digitally with a pressure-sensitive touch tablet (WACOM). The other day he took a pic of me with his phone and then paint-ified it for fun:

Galiana In Virtual Oil

Before he took the picture, he had me shift my top lower to show off my boobs. I told him "thank you" on your behalf already :) 

Now I have an "oil painting" of myself up in my Fuckatorium! So fun!

Delicious Distraction

Yesterday, I was all un-sexied because of concern about my mother's health. (update: she'll be fine - she talked me out of traveling unless they decide to do something invasive - right now she's just sitting in the hospital, bored, hydrating, and waiting another day to see if it resolves itself) I spent yesterday worrying myself into a frenzy before about 5 pm, which was completely unhelpful.

So to try to knock myself back into my normally happy place, I spent the evening chatting online with friends, doing laundry in case we need to travel, reading posts from PSO forums, browsing through others' phone sex listings, and making juvenile comments on friends' Facebook posts (one friend's entire post was "boobs" to amuse her son ... was I just supposed to leave that alone? of course not).

By about 10 pm, I was starting to feel a little clearer mentally, and a little more relaxed emotionally. I considered logging on, but decided not to push it.

And then in walked my husband, in his suit. With no shirt on under it. The black one. The one with the awesome smooth lapels that makes the suit almost look like a tux. He was trying it on because we might have a suit-worthy event if we do travel, and showing me that it fit him a little better than it used to.

Oh. My. God. Did it ever. My hands and mouth got all twitchy, and my tummy got all flippy, and I crawled across the bed to show him the effect it was having on me. One kneeling fluffer blow job later, we took the reconfigured Fuckatorium bed for a test ride -- turns out it is the perfect height for him to fuck me while kneeling beside it, with my legs wrapped around him and my ass almost hanging off the edge. And when that happens, turns out it hits this completely juicy spot inside me.

It was a perfect quickie - long enough for me to have a big, tasty, rolling orgasm, but not long enough to drain me of the energy I'd recovered. It was like a fuck-snack before bed. I slept better than I had in days.

This morning I woke up mulling about the sexy stories of mid-day naughtiness from my office cam buddy, hoping I can talk Doc into topping me today even though I shooed him away yesterday, wondering if I'd been too hard on a humiliation-seeking sub last time we talked, and where the hell is Agent Jones because my intrigue and espionage meters are getting dangerously low. And how to write the suit-fucking into the blog to give readers ideas...

Oh, hey, look at that, I'm back. Whew. I guess you can't keep a good Inner Slut down!

So today, I look forward to as many deliciously distracting calls as possible to keep my Inner Worry Wart at bay!

(Side note, thanks tons for the well-wishing notes from yesterday. Super super sweet. /sniffle)

Fuckatorim Re-Organization

I take phone sex calls in the guest bedroom, which is now known as "The Fuckatorium" in our home.

The bed used to have a wooden headboard / frame that my parents got when they moved back to Texas after his service in the Army, which means it's possible that I was conceived on that bed. But the support boards are a tad too short, so they kept falling out, which caused bizarre lumps and bends in the bed, so spending extended periods of time in it started to hurt my back.

So we pulled the box springs and mattress off the frame and got a memory foam mattress topper, which made the bed infinitely more comfortable - tremendous success. But we put the bed in the corner under the window, which caused glare, and it made it very awkward to fix the mattress topper when it starts sliding off the mattress (which it does daily).

I've been mulling how to reconfigure. Here were my goals:

• no window glare when I'm working on my laptop, from the bed or the desk
• more surface / shelf space within easy reach of the bed for: 
• sex toys
• drinks and snacks
• my laptop
• my bone phone, back up bone phone, iPhone
• iPhone charger so I can lie down and play games and charge the phone all at once
• my desk for when I have to do paperwork, or just want an ergonomic change of position 
• trash and a recycling bin 
• candles and lamps, because sometimes I pretend that I can decorate and make things pretty ... it's a start 

I think I might have figured it all out!

The bed is now away from the wall enough for me to wedge myself into the corner to fix the sliding mattress topper. Such a relief!

The sheets are one color of maroon, the top blanket is another maroon, and the blanket in the middle is green. Feel free to get me an Amazon gift card for hundreds of dollars to buy coordinated linens, but until that happens, I'm going with what we have that feels comfy instead of what looks good.

The grey towel on the bed is because I love fucking and masturbating on towels - they are easier to wash and put away than sheets and blankets, and cheaper to replace if you ruin them. So the towel is in case I leave a wet spot when I masturbate, or need a spot to lay a juicy vibrator after I come. Honestly.

The nifty sewing table on the right somewhat overhangs the bed so I can easily reach more surface space from the bed, either lying or sitting. It's got a bone phone on it. It will be a great spot to quickly put my laptop when I get up (phone rings, I need to get up without dropping my laptop, shut the door, take a big swig of water, and make sure my notes spreadsheet is open on my laptop because if I don't write down the name I'll forget it... so efficiency matters).

The shelves on the left have most of their surface area facing the bed ...

So much shelf space within easy reach! I'm so excited!

Top left to right: candle and lighter, then Hand/foot lotion for when I remember to pamper myself, and probable landing place for ponytail holders and hair clips. Then bone phone and iPhone charger on an extension cord (I took the pics with the iPhone, but normally it will be between the lotion and the bone phone).

Bottom left to right: orange "beginner" size butt plug, purple bumpy rabbit vibrator, teal waterproof vibrator with a pointed curved end, fat red vibrator with a g-spot curve, pink egg on a stick vibe, bamboo spoon for paddling, condoms and gloves for easy cleanup after anal play, adjustable nipple clamps on chains (two sets), medium-strength clothes pins, and lube.


That's just a small part of my toy collection, though. The rest are here, in their new home:

A big plastic bin with well-labeled bags by category. Visible are backup ropes, insertables, cuffs, other clamps and clips, and the first aid kit. Under there are floggers, Vac-U-Loc toys, strap ons, more rope, more vibrators, leashes and collars, and supplies for cleaning and care. I bought almost all of it when I was single in my early 30s. It was kind of a hobby for a while. /blush

Next to the toy bin are a trash can and a recyclables bin. It'll make it so much easier to be a lazy but ecologically responsible snacker. 

Last but not least, the desk and "wall decoration":

I didn't want to put the headboard / footboard in the garage because it's not climate controlled, so now they're decorations! Right? Or clutter? Hard to tell, so I'm going with "decoration". But the desk is close enough to the bed so I can leave my laptop plugged into the same outlet in either location, which I hope will encourage me to shift spots more often.

Hopefully I thought of most things this time, and I won't feel the need to restructure it again.  Also, hopefully I'll get at least an hour notice if anyone needs to stay there to clear out the sex toys.

Thank you for partaking in the November Fuckatorium Tour!

Why Not Cam?

I've had requests to get on camera (very flattering, thank you!), but I am not yet ready to do so, so I thought I'd explain the bazillion things I want to have in place before I begin. And while we are paying our bills and accumulating some savings on good weeks, we haven't rebuilt our savings to the point of covering a full month's expenses yet, so I won't spend big money on new toys until that goal has been met. Safety first!

(Donations via tributes or Amazon Gift Cards are happily accepted to start a Cam Fund if it's important to you. Sizable donations would certainly speed the process. But I'm not holding my breath - I haven't attracted "sugar daddy" energy so far, so it seems unlikely a Cam Sugar Daddy will magically appear.)

To start, I need a better camera. HD quality. With remote zoom and panning, and the ability to attach a grip or tripod. The ones recommended (via Consumer Reports, Amazon reviews, and informal feedback from other cam operators) run several hundred dollars. What I have now is just the camera in my laptop, which (1) doesn't offer me a lot of angle choices if I also want to be able to see what's happening (2) gives off a creepy blue glow that reflects in my glasses and makes me look like an alien robot - which if awesome if that's your thing, but it's not for most of you (3) has okay picture quality, but not good.

Then I need a real live land line, instead of Voice Over IP, so my voice calls aren't competing for bandwidth with the camera. I could direct voice calls to my mobile phone, but that can be dicey; it would be better to just get a physical land line. We built this house not expecting to need a land line, so this house has literally never had a land line installed, so it would require extra installation charges. When I started phone sex, I didn't want to invest too much in it in case I didn't like it (obviously unnecessary caution there), and it was easier and cheaper to set up VOIP. 

Then I need to decorate the Fuckatorium. It's stark right now. Decorating is not my forte. At. All. I like feng shui for decorating because it gives me a direction so I don't have to choose from the overwhelming feeling of being able to choose anything in the whole world. When my living and working spaces have been decorated, my mom or sister usually did it, and although my sister would love to help, she hasn't been up in ages, and although Mom is supportive, I just can't ask her to go that far.

Decorating the Fuckatorium also includes finally deciding how I want it functionally arranged. It's not set up completely right for my use yet, and I've rearranged it three times already. I need a lot of stuff close at hand and well organized just for phone calls, much less cam: of course the bone phone (and the recharging backup phone), but also my cell phone in case I get texts or personal calls, my computer to take notes or watch a camera during calls, sex toys, a spot that's not on anything wood for sex toys to air dry if I've recently washed them, a drink, snacks... and ideally all of that would be within reach from a variety of positions so I can ergonomically shift all day. 

Paint and light. Right now the walls are a light beige color, close to the color of my skin, which washes me out to nothing, so I need to repaint the room before decorating. And then after I paint, I need to figure out lighting: how to get good enough light so nothing is hidden in shadow without being blinding or throwing off my ability to fall asleep... I perk up in very bright rooms, so if I did cam late at night in a well-lit room, it might literally shift my sleep patterns by hours. I'm not trying to be difficult, I swear, I'm just trying to be honest about how my body responds to light.

Then, true confession: I do not usually lounge around my home in makeup and lingerie. I do often lounge around completely naked because I'm lazy and I like being naked, or in just 1 or 2 pieces of clothing (like a bra and a long-sleeved button up shirt) that I tossed on when the dogs needed to go out that morning. But getting on cam means I would have to actually think about how I was dressed.

And wearing makeup more often means I'd have to get more disciplined about skin care. I have sensitive skin, but it's not dry. The natural oils keep it looking young, which I like, but the sensitivity means I break out like a teenager unless I give my face careful attention at least twice a day. And if I leave makeup on overnight, like if I casually fall asleep in the Fuckatorium, I'm fighting my face for a week to soothe it back down. I'm 40 for goodness sake, why am I still dealing with this? 

Last, but certainly not least for me, is figuring out how to do phone sex in a way that I still enjoy while on camera. When I've played on web cam with out-of-town lovers, I can get so distracted by watching my own goofy expressions that I sometimes forget to just relax and enjoy myself. I close my eyes a lot during sex, to concentrate on the physical sensations, and let those sweep me into a place where I'm not thinking as much, where I'm just feeling. When I open my eyes, it is easier to get back to a place where I'm too much in my head.

The same is true during phone sex, but even more so because I tend to close my eyes and go to a whole new place. I remember one call where he just said we were in a hotel room, but I could see every detail: the crisp, white sheets, the privacy sheer window coverings under a heavy layer of light-blocking fabric, the urban view out the window as if we were hundreds of stories high, and the raised bed, so it felt as though I was floating on the top of the world with him.

I don't know how to do that and also be aware of what I look like on camera. And I don't know how to have phone sex without doing that. I mean, guided masturbation makes sense, and that would be super fun on camera, sure, but when I try to figure out how to accomplish any kind of fantasy or role play, I get kind of baffled.

So. That's the super-long explanation of "Why I Don't Do Cam... Yet." And hopefully, if you do use the services of women on camera, you will now appreciate their offering more fully!

Big Black Cocks and... Dishwashers?

Someone on the phone today asked me where my Big Black Cock was. And the winner for "Potentially Least Sexy Answer Ever"... the dishwasher.

For a while, it lived on the washing machine, but it still had that new-dildo smell, so we decided to round up all the dishwasher-safe toys and wash them all.

Some are Vac-U-Loc attachments (the white ribbed thing near the top is an awesome Vac-U-Loc handle so you can get a better grip on them and keep them a little stiffer).

The blue thing on the right is a Feeldoe, which I enjoyed using tremendously, the few times I've used it. 

The black and silver handle near the top is not a sex toy; it's a steak knife. Obviously we were comfortable that the anti-bacterial toy cleaner (and, for most of these toys, months/years of not being used) had done their job.

This, I am somewhat embarrassed to say, is only a small portion of my overall toy collection, most of which I amassed when I was single in my early 30s. I was experimenting! I had expendable income! It seemed reasonable at the time... but now it seems a tad excessive, honestly. I don't want to throw anything away because a) they don't recycle, and b) what if I want something else just like that some day?

I've thought about laying everything out for pictures by category, with stories about the individual items if I have them, but haven't gotten around to it yet. Would that be interesting or just time-consuming and self-indulgent?

Regardless, at least now they're all clean. And, thankfully, a little less pungent!

Acting and Phone Sex

Sure, I act sometimes on phone sex calls.

I have acted like a princess-ey bitch who thinks men are losers, and any cock less than 10 inches isn't worth my time. I have acted like a mouth-breathing bimbo, deeply confused by the BDSM gear in the special room I found while babysitting. I have acted like a nurse so overpowered by the beauty of the cock before me that I had no choice but to drop to my knees to worship it.

But my finest moments of acting are when I simply maintain the momentum of the conversation without making it grossly apparent that I just knocked over my drink. Again.

Apparently I need to reconfigure the fuckatorium one more time. Further adjustments are in order.

P.S. Did I ever tell you about the time when I was an IT Manager, spending the day with a new employee for orientation, and in the process of gesturing emphatically, I knocked over her coffee mug onto her in the morning, and then in the afternoon, knocked over her soda can onto her? No? Well, it's kind of relevant to this story. Maybe you can see how.