Tuesday, 31 March 2020

31st March 2020

Today I've chosen something deliberately arousing, shocking and almost illegal in its audacity.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort
Yes... wide open spaces... people walking, yes... walking... even people in GROUPS, mingling freely, laughing, enjoying freah air and close company!

This was actually me walking up Cat Bells at Derwentwater in 2010, just prior to becoming a sex worker.  I remember it was bloody windy, so much so that my ears ached that much I had to use an extra hat borrowed from one of my co-walkers to keep the cold wind at bay. Yes, even I enjoyed walking in a group that day, talking to people closer than two metres away... bliss, I tell you, sheer bliss!

Itt was an exhilarating walk, though, and views from the very top over Keswick and Derwentwater itself were exquisite.  Here, have another one to fantasize over, as I'm feeling generous today...

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort
Afterwards it was drinks that The Dog And Gun in Keswick, with a unique pub feature of a living carpet of (very tired post-walk) dogs.

Monday, 30 March 2020

30th March 2020

Ah, Wendy House.  For those not in the know, this was a monthly 80's New Wave/Goth/Rock event that was based at Leeds University.  It was always a great night, and very friendly.  Always lots of great outfits, including some 'tame' fetish attire.  The music varied, and one minute it would be early Eurythmics or Soft Cell, then it would be Marilyn Manson or Rammstein blasting over the speakers.

I had some very memorable nights there, as there were always lots of lovely ladies present who were very open to experimenting the different flavours of life, shall we say...

This was taken on the dancefloor in February 2011 by a pervy friend who seemed to like the fact that my outfit displayed my sheer panties.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort

Sunday, 29 March 2020

29th March 2020

This one was a self-portrait, taken in 2004.  I still have the leather corset, and it's certainly seen a few fun nights.  The thigh boots are long gone, though.  I replaced the strap-on a few years ago after the harness broke in mid-use!

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort

Saturday, 28 March 2020

March 2020... What Shall I Write About...?

Well, how the world turns.  A few weeks ago all I was bothered about was my aching back and its unfortunate consequence of an unsated libido.

Now, the world burns in a collective meltdown of fear, cold sweats and pain, thanks to that bloody virus.  All plans on hold, countries in stasis and limbo, and people left with an unknown future.

It goes without saying that sadly I am not currently working - the risks to all for breaking the advice from scientists, healthworkers and the government are not worth it.  At these times we must think of those most at risk in our communities, for that is the bedrock of a 'civilisation' - not survival of the fittest, but survival of the weakest.

My own plans for the near future have all been put on hold.  Fetish clubs and photoshoots have been cancelled, and like everyone I know I just hope the measures and damaging effects are short-lived and produce the desired outcome for us all.

Like most people, I am totally powerless over this thing, and there is very little I can do to help anyone really, apart already doing shopping for friends that are very vulnerable to the disease.  Oh, perhaps one idea is this...

...I'll trawl through my thousands of personal photos going back nearly twenty years and see if I can put one up a day until this madness ends.  It'll keep me a bit busy and might provide some amateurish photography fun for you, too.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort
This was very kindly taken by 'friends' (I will use the term very fucking lightly, after the photos they took) after I'd crashed out at a private BDSM party all the way back in 2003 - that's seventeen, yes SEVENTEEN, years ago.  In my defence, I'd been partying, drinking and whipping for around ten hours when my body finally demanded some bed time.  The latex skirt perished a few years later - but I got my wear out of it for fetish Domme sessions, at least.

Sunday, 1 March 2020

Looking Back

When I started as a professional Dominatrix many years ago I had lots of Dommes tell me that I must have a section on my website that stated what gifts my submissive guys could bring me - it was a 'perk of the work'.  I thought it sounded a little... grasping, a little needy, but realised after some time that for some sub guys it was an important part of the 'transaction'.

When I moved into escorting I had similar advice from other experienced working girls - get something on your website that tells people what you want.  I felt the same as I did about Domme gifts - it was a bit unnecessary, and however you worded it it, it just sounded... cheap.  However, once again I found for some gents it is again an important part of the visit, and although I've never made a big thing of it on my website I will admit that sometimes I've been a little over-awed by some gifts.

One lovely guy has, on occasion, brought along some amazing leather pieces for me to wear and keep - boots, dresses and jackets.  They are always top quality, clearly not inexpensive and bloody damned sexy.  The fact that he remembers my clothing sizes is a rare thing, in my experience - some of my old boyfriends (when I had them) would struggle with that one - and is as touching as the gifts.

I've been given lots of beautiful flowers, some lovely chocolate (once again a charming gent remembering my unfortunate dairy allergy!) and some spectacular dessert wine (from my sexy choccy-chap, who knows I like sweet stuff).  I've also had some truly fabulous single-malt whiskies that have built up a small but well-enjoyed collection in my cupboard.  There have also been sex toys and lingerie that have been a pleasure to experiment with.

Then there are gifts that take you by surprise - such as those a gentleman brought recently.  A couple of small bottles of my favourite perfume (Boudoir), which is sadly no longer made and therefore very difficult to get hold of, and something else as rare and difficult to get hold of... a vintage Fiesta magazine.  At two and sixpence (roughly £2.50 today), it was probably an expensive thing when printed.


Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort - vintage Fiesta magazine.
I'm unsure of the year, but at a guess it's mid to late 1950s or very early 1960s.  The photography is not slick but remains delightful and charming... the girls look, by today's pornography standards, quite innocent, coquettish and almost twee... but in their day I bet some of them at least were already breaking those society boundaries that state how 'ladies' should behave.  The writing is equally low-key, and never once displays the ladies in overtly sexual terms. 

I'm no stranger to Fiesta magazine myself, of course .  Back in the late 1990s I was on the front cover and had a, pardon the pun, rather large spread inside.




Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort - Fiesta then and..well, then.

 Interestingly, this was also £2.50 - over the 40 years between the magazines either printing got cheaper or selling sex did.  Back then, when I was modelling and table/lap dancing, I read many articles about how it was all a route to prostitution, rather like soft drugs always leading to heroin addiction - I scoffed, of course, and yet, here in 2020, I've been a sex worker for nearly a decade.  Were those critics of the sex industry right?

I doubt it, despite seemingly the perfect case for their argument.  I think it's more that some people just aren't cut out to tread a normal path through life.  I think the sex industry, whether modelling, web-camming, dancing, domming whatever, remains the perfect choice for some people, as it did me.  Believe me, I did try my hand at various 'civvy' jobs, but I just didn't fit.  Taking orders from incompetent managers?  Nope.  Gossiping about the latest TV/pop stars with the other girls?  Nope. Adhering to company policy on acceptable behaviour and dress... you can guess that one.

No, I'm afraid I was never cut out for that life, which makes me wonder about those ladies from that old Fiesta magazine.  Those ladies, if they are still alive, will be pretty old now, of course, and I pondered on how their lives turned out.  Did they become 'model' citizens, becoming 'decent' housewives, raising a family and remaining faithful to their husbands as was the usual path?  Or did they find the modelling a path to a more subversive and sexual way of life?

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort - a Deliteful Dexi spread.
Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort - Fiesta, 1990s.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort - Hi, I'm... er, Lou?
As I look back, I certainly have no regrets and life has been a great adventure.  I was chatting in the local bar recently to a colleague whose life had turned out quite 'safe'.  Married early, brought up a family, every year a holiday to their caravan in Wales.  She was envious of my very different life, but each choice no doubt brings its own treasures, its own trials, tribulations, challenges and delights, and pains.  I'm happy I took the path less trod, though.  And speaking of pains and looking back...

... already this year I've mentioned one downside regarding my work - the repetitive-strain injury in my arm.  It's a hard one to explain to people that don't know what I do - luckily it's easier passed off as computer-related rather than the truth, which is lots of getting fucked doggy-style, lots of 69's and lots of cock wanking and sucking.

Sadly, it transpires that making a living working on your back comes with its own RSI apart from a bit of arm strain.  It looks like I've joined the large number of escorts with back pain - it is a common theme, it seems, looking on a few forums.

So this week I aim to be visiting a chiropractor and getting some massages of my own for my painful back.  I wonder if it would be rude to ask for a happy ending..?


Sunday, 2 February 2020

Sex On Fire

Like many professionals in different spheres and careers, I'm proud of what I do and believe my work brings something positive to a sometimes sad world.  I know there are many that would see that viewpoint of 'sex work' as wrong and that my chosen choice of career immoral, but I'm happy to take the pass less trodden and enjoy my career, aiming to be as good as a I can be at it - like a professional.  But, like most professionals, stuff still goes wrong and that aim of providing an erotic, sensual and seamless interlude in the day of a visiting gentleman stands endlessly on a cliff edge - sex, at the best of times, can be a etiquette mindfield to give a De Bretts author nightmares.

I've had some instances in the past that rear their head in my memory.  In that long hot summer of 2018 I spent, to be honest, a fair bit of time sat outside my local cocktail bar enjoying the blazing sun.  One weekend, there was probably a little too many cocktails and a little too much sun, ending up with me suffering a rather sunburned scalp. It wasn't a problem until the Monday, and a visiting gentleman and I got down to the business of some thoroughly enjoyable sucking and fucking.

However, once the energetic fucking began I found myself being literally fucked up the bed and against the headboard.  As my sore scalp began to rub on the coarse headboard  I experienced a new burning sensation that sent bolts of pain on the short journey from sunburned scalp to brain.  Without my lover noticing I tried to ease back down the bed, pushing down against his thrusting hips to try and move our entwined bodies away from the headboard.

Lover took this as a sign to fuck me even harder, and it soon felt like someone was holding a blowtorch against my head as headboard and scalp regained contact.  I began panting, then moaning with each thrust of lover's cock, which he took for as pleasure, and spurred him on to even more energetic thrusting.  My cries with each deep thrust of his hard cock, looking back, were easily misunderstood... oh, oh, oh, oh, Ohh, Ohhhh, OHHHH, OHHHHH, OOOOHHHHHH...

At least the session ended well - I persuaded my chap to change position, and we both ended up coming with me riding him cowgirl style.  I was a bit more cautious for the rest of the week, though!

I've been fucked off the bed a few times, too, ending up in an inglorious heap on the floor when my gent and I have lost ourselves in the moment - professional... maybe not, but funny, yes.  The less said about fanny farts the better, of course... some sexual positions at the wrong time can just push air where it's really not wanted.  I know some guys like that kind of thing, but when it's not intentional they can be a bit... er, unsexy.

Other factors can come into play, too.  Window cleaners arriving at the sex boudoir window, delivery drivers arriving at the door.. and some interruptions are entirely self-inflicted.

Like this week.  With my gentleman visitor on his way, I lit some nice aromatherapy candles to help with the mood.  My man arrived, and we headed to the bedroom.  After a very lovely session of intimate 1-2-1 fun we were laid on the bed afterwards and, somewhere distant it seemed, an alarm began to go off.  "Is that a fire alarm?" asked my lover.  "No, it's just the check that the management company do," I replied, seeing no panic required.  The shrilling noise continued.  "That really does sound like a fire alarm," he said again.  "No, it's fine," I reassured him,

About a minute later, and with my partner still insisting there was something wrong, I got up and walked into a smoke filled hallway, and the fire alarm was screeching away in full panic mode.  After a second or two of shock  - I found the cause of the smoke.  The match that I'd used to light the candles with had broken off and my aromatherapy oil burner had caught fire, which in turn burnt the wooden chest that it was sat on.  It was a rather undignified end to a very nice session, and certainly not the professional, calm, sensual experience I was hoping to achieve.

So, things go wrong, but I'll continue to be the best I can - which is providing hot stuff in the bedroom, not the hallway.





It's also time for a website update - once again my favourite photos from the last six months have been updated on my Gallery Page - www.dexidelite.com.  I hope you like them as much as I do.

Sunday, 5 January 2020

2020 Vision And The Wrong Prick

Happy New Year to my readers.

Firstly, I'm aware that it's been a while since I posted - November was the last one, actually.  It summed up 2019 for me - started with much hope and, well... fizzled out in a dismal greyness.

I was, in truth, glad to see the back of 2019.  The year had seen the passing of a few of of my friends, the most recent in the build-up to Christmas itself, so the holiday season mood was a bit overcast.

On a better note, New Year's Eve turned out to be a twelve hour blast - drinks (a few mocktails in there, to spread out the alcohol intake!) with friends was a sure-fire way to swill away the bitter end to the year, and I finally arrived home at 6.00am, sparkly dress (and, for once, panties) intact and silver high heeled sandals still on my feet.

So, ready and waiting for 2020... which actually started with a prick.  A big hard one.  A prick that probed my inner working like no other, reached areas that no other had and made me almost pass out after 15 minutes of impalement by a charming and swarthy gentleman medic.  No, not part of a plot for a hammy sexploit wherein the heroine gets some 'special treatment' at the hands of a well-hung white-coated doctor on the creaking metal bed in an examination room - something far less sexy in reality.

Let me go back to Dec 2017.  Now, I'm not sure if it was being fucked doggy-style endlessly, the wanking of many cocks or just frigging myself off at random times, but I managed to get tennis elbow.  For those not in the know, it is an incredibly painful heat down the forearm, making any movement involving putting a strain on the joint and muscles unbearable.  It slightly hindered my fun/work, as the aforementioned wanking and doggy-style fucking became difficult, but somehow I got by.

However, the tennis elbow, despite following physiotherapy advice, hung around like Tony Blair at a Labour party conference - unwanted, unloved and very bloody annoying.  I couldn't shift it.  Finally, in late 2019, after two years of suffering, an appointment with a consultant for a possible remedy was finally forth coming.  So, just a few days ago, I hauled myself out of bed and made it to the required hospital ward for 7.15am. 

Two hours later, I had blood taken, the plasma and platelets separated, and re-injected into the joint of my left elbow via a long, thick steel needle.  Painful?  Hmm... yes.  Fuck yes.  Any deviant thoughts that 'may' have been scurrying along the dark sides of my imagination were well and truly blown away once that white-hot pain seared into my brain.

The pain is slowly subsiding - I can only hope that it does the job.  There are other pricks that I'm looking forward to seeing being impaled on in my full-length bedroom mirror, and no doubt a fair few steel-hard shafts that I'll be relieving of their load this year.

Aims for this year - I've already got a few things booked... some fetish, some retro/vintage, and hopefully some fell-walking - it's been too long since I've hit the hillsides, and I miss the delights of our lovely countryside.

I hope you have all have a glorious 2020.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort - Happy New Year.