For a Friend

 A very good friend uses one of the photos below for her Facebook banner, cropped, unfortunately, to avoid Zuckerburg's police censors. I searched for all of the images in this photoshoot by Kelly Segre (https://ksegre.com/), but could only find these three. Posting them just for fun, for my friend.

Everything Old Is New Again

 

Returning to Venice Beach after working on a feature film in Vancouver for six months, I had just enough money to keep up my portion of rent in a shared apartment, make my car payment, pay my insurance, and buy groceries. I was making it, sort of, as a wannabe cinematographer in an industry where men mostly worked behind the camera.

In 2009 Hollywood, if you were "breaking in" to the industry and you were lucky, you waited tables. The tips alone were vastly more than a paycheck working in a retail shop or as a receptionist in a production office.

And if you got lucky enough to work in one of the upscale places that required a uniform consisting of a black leather mini skirt, fishnets, a push-up bra, and an unbuttoned white shirt, you could get by financially. I was doing okay, but the economy was just recovering from the great recession (bank bailouts) and everything in southern California was expensive. I wasn't getting any production work either. So, like everyone else I was looking for additional work and income. 

Having been on a sound stage for six months in Vancouver, I was as pasty white as I had ever been. It felt strange to not have any tan lines. In my black and white outfit at the restaurant, I looked like a porcelain doll with a messy, very European looking shock of unruly red hair. At least, that is what the young photographer told me as he tipped me generously and included his business card in the folded cash.

I called him. He and his wife were starting up a web site to feature amateur, first time models. Nudity was required, but there was no sex save some teasing shots with other girls. Only models without representation (an agent) would be hired and pay would be fair, but not at professional rates. We agreed on two full days of six hours each for $350 a day. That turned into three days ($1050, woot!) yielding five sets of "girl next door" photos and one glamour set.

The photographer's wife was a make-up artist with an indie production company. Her work was exceptional. Before the shoot, she talked me into going blonde. I hesitated, but she split the cost of the bleach and dye job with me. She was right. My look changed completely with a relaxed, slightly strawberry blonde color. The hairdresser, one of the gayest and sweetest guys I've ever met, tossed in a free cut and style "because I can't send you away unfinished!" This deal was working out well.

I've never been shy about being naked in front of others, so I thought the shoots were going to be a "cakewalk," not that I've ever seen a cakewalk. I figured I would just strike some poses as I had seen on softcore porn sites.

The couple explained this was exactly what they did not want. They envisioned me in various stages of undress in simple outfits -- skirt/top, shorts/tee, a swimsuit -- acting a little shy. It was supposed to be me my first time, so I should "smile and be coy." It was harder than I thought. But as time went on we kept shooting, talking, and enjoying how to have fun with the setups. The only time I was a tad uncomfortable was shooting the full-frontal shots and low angle shots that captured my pussy in loving detail. Otherwise, we spent a lot of time making up my "story," the phony bio that would accompany my photos.

The last afternoon the final shoot, the "glamour shoot," took place. I brought a black corset and some pretty lingerie and the photographer's wife provided a few gowns and such. She directed the shoot. I must share that I have never felt prettier than I did that afternoon with her directing me, making me feel glamorous, desirable. Those photos are my favorites for those three days. One or two of them I have even shared on Facebook and other places.

At the end of the last day, they paid me -- in cash. There were no contracts, no photo releases, no receipts, no social security numbers, no nothing.  We had been shooting in a model home in one of the Hollywood canyons, so the address of where we shot was only a real estate listing. They promised to send me a flash drive of the photos they would use and the URL of the site when it was online. They lived up to their promise. I liked the final results, but, at the same time, was grateful that because of the new hair color, style, and exquisite make-up, that the photos were of a super cute girl next door who, remarkably, looked a lot like me.

A year later the web site disappeared. The photographer's phone number never worked again. I found his wife at her production company and asked what was up. "Honey, forget that episode." she said, "he's moved on."

Over the years I occasionally searched to see if the photos had resurfaced. Occasionally, one or two turned up on obscure sites. I was never concerned.

But this week, I was messing around the dark web, for educational purposes only, of course, and stumbled upon a Russian search engine that could find every single photo of me. I could search by image or text description based on the "story" we had imagined for me. The engine found the photos time-after-time. As a test, I performed some searches for other things, people, that should have been buried and hidden on the web long ago. The results were scary: accurate, voluminous, with additional references and similar items.

I'm not worried about the photos getting around the net. My hair and make-up then, and, now, my increased age (yes, I have wrinkle or two) give me more than adequate deniability. And if I ever get a new pixie cut, I'll be completely unrecognizable.

What scares me is the incredible power and accuracy of that Russian search engine. It creeps me out enough that I will not be going on the dark web again anytime soon. And, I've already done a complete sweep of my system for issues. I have two firewalls and a rock-solid VPN. I hope that was enough to keep the Russian engine from cataloging my hard drives!

Be safe out there on the web.

I Was Going to Try It!

If you've read any of my blog posts you know sometimes my exhibitionist side gets the better of me. With COVID-19 the opportunities to show off are limited.

I was going to try an adventure Ellen Arroway suggested on Facebook this week.

When Ellen posted the GIF, I thought about where I might try this given that most venues are closed. I'm extremely careful about where I show off. The place is all-important for safety as well as finding an audience that can appreciate a well-planned flash.

So I decided on a little pizza place that is owned by a family and is run exclusively by the sons and one daughter. They have a setup now where only two people are allowed in the restaurant at a time to pick up pizzas. The family works behind the counter and plexiglass together, all wearing masks. They require customers to wear them too. They all know me and greet me by name. I may have worn a skimpy outfit or two there before the virus, teasing the sons a little.

I popped over for a pizza wearing a dress and a cute little red thong that would have made a perfect mask. My plan was to enter, then make a scene about forgetting my mask, then do the panty trick.

As soon as I got in the door I said "Oh no, I forgot my mask," the owner, a barrel-chested teddy bear of a man, shouted to me, "Free ones by the door, Sparks!" I looked and sure enough, there was a box of masks on a small table. Blushing, I put one of the masks on and picked up my pizza. So much for that adventure.

Still feeling the itch to show off, I wore a very old pair of Wicked Weasel shorts to walk with Sally (Jeep Girl) this morning. She noticed the skimpy shorts immediately but didn't say a word about them for the entire walk.

She did, however, tie a knot in her t-shirt exposing her midriff and rolled the waist of her running shorts down two folds when we got to the arroyo.

I couldn't help but think, "Small moves, Ellie, small moves."

But no, not to worry, we're becoming fast friends. I won't be stupid and go further than that with a married woman. It occurred to me, of course, but women can be "cute and powerful" together without being lovers. Right?

Finally Cooling Down

Finally, the temperatures are coming down! It will only be a balmy 100° today.

It was cool enough to walk with Sally (Jeep Girl) today, so we met at 6:00 a.m. She didn't show up in a white dress, nor did I. It's probably wise to wait and see if she brings that up again.

We decided to walk to another area of the mountain park today that affords a nice bit of shade in the early morning. Our walk was mostly a quiet one. It was nice to enjoy even the slightest cool air and the companionship of my new friend with no obligation to force the conversation. She did mention that she still arrives about an hour before our walks for her "alone time," listening to music, surfing, the 'net, or reading. She said her husband is still sleeping when she leaves, so she gets over an hour of quiet just before we meet. But, she also said, she looks forward to our walks and hopes we can keep them up after school starts. I simply agreed.

<dear diary moment>
Forgive this, but I'm having a "dear diary' moment. I was tickled when Sally expressed an interest in a "white dress" moment -- slipping off thin excuses for dresses so we could walk nude together in the arroyo. I'm not sure if this is only an expression of desiring the joy of being naked outside or a hint that she is interested in being naked with me. She's married, and, as far as I know, straight as an arrow. I haven't told her I'm bi and that she makes me shiver. Further, in no way, no how, do I want to jeopardize our friendship.
</dear diary moment>

Yesterday, I splurged and bought a misting system for my patio. It's a series of tiny misting jets on a thin hose that hangs over your patio to provide some cooling on the hottest of days. I have a feeling it will come in handy for the home-schooling class I'll be doing with Trouble and her friends. With the mist and an electric fan, we should be able to survive the outdoor class until the weather cools in late September. I've been working on the class schedule with Trouble's mom. We think we have a plan.

Trouble and her friends seem genuinely excited about home-schooling as they have no interest in the miserable face-to-face plans the public schools have in mind. They miss boys though and that concerns me. Moms are trying to find a way to let the girls have a safe social life and practice social distancing at the same time. I shake my head and can offer no earthly idea of how that might work. How do you keep high school teens from, well, being high school teens? I've written about how easy I was in high school, so I have no experience with abstinence what-so-ever.

I've rambled too long today. Thanks for reading. I do like to get feedback though, so please don't be shy.

Back to the Arroyo

Today's high will be 110°. Ugh.

This morning at 5:00 a.m. it was already 85° when I met Jeep Girl (Sally) for our morning walk. I've noticed we've both changed from wearing cotton shorts and tops to more ultra-lightweight, high tech running shorts and tank-tops that are also wicking. It only takes a few minutes of brisk walking to work up a decent sweat because we also have some monsoon moisture in the air. We're sopping wet by the time we reach the small wash that leads to my secret arroyo. Today is the day I shared its location.

"I'm going to show you a special place I found for walking or just getting away from almost everyone..." I said, "...I've only seen one other person there, ever." Sally's face lit up, "lead on, Sparky!"

As we approached my arroyo I explained that I found it originally by following a bobcat who, apparently, didn't mind because it seemed to pause occasionally to wait for me. I told her about my walk in the white dress and the old cowboy who suggested I pack a pistol too. She chuckled, "I guess we could wear a small gun belt under a loose smock, but I've never felt in danger out here."

I smiled, thinking, I haven't either. Besides, there are lots of rocks about, just in case.

When we got to the break in the rocks that led down to the arroyo, I stopped cold and gasped, "Holy fuck!" The recent monsoon downpours had flashed the arroyo and left a new bed of sand and gravel at least a foot higher than the old stream bed. It looked new, almost like a highway. And there was not a footprint in it, not even an animal print yet.

The sand and gravel were remarkably stable and packed solid so it was easy to walk on, albeit, a bit noisy as our shoes crunched the new surface. We talked easily, softly, off and on while listening for birds and other critters. The conversation was rambling here and there and came back to the old cowboy. I purposely let it slip that I had taken my dress off and was walking nude that morning to see how Sally would react. She laughed at me and said, "It's a good thing the cowboy was a geezer."

"I like to get naked out-of-doors when I can," I replied, again probing for her reaction, "it feels good. If somebody sees and I sense an issue, I just pop something on. Never had a problem."

She kept walking, looking down, in thought I believe, and finally, softly, I heard, "hmmmm." So I dropped the subject and we walked in silence for some time.

The sun peaked over the mountains to the east and started blasting us as if a furnace door had just opened. We agreed to make for her jeep, its air conditioning, and a power-ade. Soon we were in the jeep letting blasts of cold air chill our sweat-soaked clothes and skin. Sally offered to drop me at my casita instead of me walking home as I usually do. I was tempted, but seriously need to keep up my exercise routine, so I declined. "I'll take you up when it's 95°," I said.

As I was getting out the jeep to head home, she said, "Sparky, is that story of the cowboy, the white dress, true?" 

"Yes, it is," I replied.

"And you've never seen anyone else in the arroyo on your morning hikes?"

"Nope, just desert critters. That far into the park, everyone sticks to the established trails."

A mischievous look spread across her face. "Mind if I try that with you? I mean, no funny stuff."

I looked at my new friend. She seemed as bright and as cheerful as I had ever seen her.

"I don't mind at all, see you tomorrow," I said and turned to walk home.

After Sally started her jeep she drove slowly out of the parking lot, past me with her window open, waving. I shouted happily, "I don't mind funny stuff either."

Pussy Revisited

Yesterday's post received some interesting reactions. Several friends were surprised at the "openness" of the photos. Thinking about that, I realized my penchant for "open" photos might relate to my playing doctor with my cousin for so many years when I was a young girl. We'd explore, get close, talk about what we were seeing. Will have to give that more thought.

In the meantime, here are several examples of photos I think my Facebook friends expected. I enjoy this style too because they are somewhat exemplary of the kind of exhibitionist activities I enjoy.

Pussy

There was a marvelous photo posted on Facebook this morning teasing me about some of the near-nude uploads that have gotten me banned there repeatedly. It was titled "Wet Pussy" and was a funny pic of a kitten, soaking wet, in a bathtub. One of my friends suggested I needed to see it.

That brings me to the subject of today's blog post: Pussy, real girl pussy, not wet kittens. 

When I was 10 years old or so I discovered a cardboard box in our garage that contained years and years of early Playboy magazines that belonged to my father. I spent secret hours looking at the pretty models. It occurred to me that in the older issues the photos did not show pubic hair much less a pussy. However, by the mid-seventies issues, pubes and slits were being shown. My dad didn't have Hustler or Penthouse, but these went further than Playboy and included what became known as spread shots. Could not get interested in the "nasty," wide-open stuff. Was very interested in the "pretty," teasing photos, ones that preferably included a smiling, happy face.

Yes, when it comes to my bisexual preferences, they include soft-core porn, including pussy pics, and lipstick lesbians. Call me shallow, I am fairly lightweight in this regard.

Okay, so here goes, the most explicit post I've ever done in this blog. The following are what I consider to be high quality photos that I like to look at. I hope you agree. Leave me a comment one way or the other.