Sunday, 5 July 2020

5th July 2020

As I noted yesterday, today is the 100th post and the last of my little 'daily' ones.  One hundred days.  Wow.  It seems like a lifetime ago when I last felt things were 'normal'.  But I've decided, with the kind of firm, decisive stance that the goverment could do with, that something has to change.

So, this week will mark the return to fun for me.  Yes, as of this week I'm properly back in business.  I know things could change again, a lá Leicester, if the government decides that we in the north west are 'misbehaving' and 'not following the rules' and lockdown the whole area again on a whim to 'teach us a lesson', (perhaps coronavirus isn't the only recent thing they've imported from the Chinese - an undemocratic, authoritarian state seems to be the other) but that is out of my hands.  So, the daily posts will finish today, and I intend to try and get out and about at least for some new photos.  In all likelihood the blog will be quiet for a little while as there's still not really a lot going on in the fetish or cultural worlds, but I'll try and do something.  I think we all have to do something to find ourselves again.

I've actually enjoyed the daily posts.  Once or twice I've forgotten to do them (I usually wrote them the night before), so ended up getting out of bed in the middle of the night to write the following day's post... usually half-asleep.  A few working ladies and Dommes I know extolled the 'business plan' of using 'Only Fans' and suchlike for updating photos and, importantly, earning extra cash, but I decided against that, for two reasons.

One... I simply like my blog.  It's mine.  Over the years I've spent probably hundreds of hours writing and editing it... and I'm a bit proud of my little labour of love and lust.  I wanted to keep it alive and thriving, and under the hard days of the early lockdown I knew it would be hard to keep it nourished without a rethink of what I could do with it.

Secondly, without getting too sentimental, I figured there was a chance there would be some people out there that just might be having their own struggles with the sudden descent into the weird dystopian society that the lockdown brought.  If my little posts kept them entertained for only a few minutes each day, it was worth it.  Also, I've been a very lucky lady.  Through my 'vocation' as a sex worker I've met some genuinely lovely gentlemen, who have paid me for my time and delighted me with some fabulous sex as a bonus.  For those lovely chaps, it was a little "thank you - hope to see you soon" payback... well-earned, and well meant.

I hope it's been entertaining - sometimes the posts brought back lost memories, sometimes they were written to vent some frustration at the state of the world, sometimes they helped me relive fabulous moments and reminded me of what is really important.

Today's photo, then, is a little (there is a larger one on my website as the first of my new Picture Of The Week updates) quickie.  The corona-chastity is off, and I'm determined to rediscover and reconnect, high-heeled step-by-step if need be, with the world again.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort

Saturday, 4 July 2020

4th July 2020

Well, here we are.  July 4th.  Pubs (sort of) re-opening, and things (sort of) getting back to 'normal'.  With job losses, both recent and impending, starting to be a concern there is a feeling that things need to change... and soon.  With that in mind, it is probably the time to make my 100th daily post the last.  My intention is to try and get out and about a bit more and hopefully restart my Picture Of The Week theme on my website.

As for stopping... I know I've said it before, but picking a number like 100 to finish on as opposed to, say, 89, feels more complete.  It's an arbitrary number, of course, but we like decimals.  So, for the penultimate daily post, let me pull out something especially explicit. 

Taken just before the lockdown after a rather energetic and very enjoyable fucking session, it may serve as a reminder to those who have missed my company in the recent months.  I bet you can almost smell my perfume, post-fuck sweat and sexy, sated pussy already...

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Friday, 3 July 2020

3rd July 2020

High heeled boots and pussy - who doesn't love that combination?  One from a photo set I did in August 2012, some of which were used for my Adultwork private gallery.  Presented just for you, now, in 2020.

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Thursday, 2 July 2020

2nd July 2020

Back to my wonderful visit to the Aviator hotel in July last year.  I did rebook this lovely place for another visit this year, but something caused me to have to cancel it.  I've already promised myself that I will return though once things are a little more normal - out of all the hotels I've stayed in, it's one of my favourites.


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Wednesday, 1 July 2020

1st July 2020

When I was writing yesterday's post I liked the line 'for your pleasure'... but it took a few minutes to realise what it was.  For Your Pleasure.  The second album from glam rock, space-age, retro-tastic, future-fantastic Roxy Music.  Some of my Stricly Confidential gentleman visitors to my little Dream Home to enjoy my Beauty Queen pleasures might know why this strikes a chord.

I don't have a photo of myself in a slinky dress and high heels with a panther at my feet, with a lounge-lizard Bryan Ferry waiting to whisk me away in a sleazy 1970s Americana automobile (not for the lack of trying, you understand - although I have kissed him...!).  I do have this one, though.  No Ferry, no American car, no airport and definitely no panther.  I do have the high heels and slinky dress, though...

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Tuesday, 30 June 2020

30th June 2020

Me in my leather corset, leather thigh boots and leather gloves.  Another trip down Memory Lane, today.  Acually, it's not.  I've posted previous photos from this shoot on the 19th and 20th May, but have no memories of who took the photos, when they were taken, what they were taken for or if they ended up anywhere.

Anyway, lots of lovely leather for your pleasure. 
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Hmmm... for your pleasure... what does that remind me of...?

Monday, 29 June 2020

29th June 2020

Another old one today.  I found this when looking for my 'nurse' photo from the post for the 25th.  I have no idea who the chap was, but it was taken at a little dungeon I used to work at in the centre of Manchester.  The dungeon has long gone now, and is now a hairdressers.

If only the clientelle knew what debauched practices used to go on in the clean space where they sat... well, it would make their hair curl.

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Sunday, 28 June 2020

28th June 2020

A real blast from the past, in a couple of ways, today.  This is one of the oldest photos I have from when I arrived in the north west.  Taken in summer 2001- I know that from the horrible kitchen chair that came with the small flat.

Dressed as a pervy schoolgirl, I was on my way out with a group of friends.  There was a reason for the uniform - we were going to a 'School Disco' event at one of the Academy venues on Oxford Road in Manchester.  The club was full of guys in silly schoolboy uniforms, some were cleverly dressed as preppy teachers (complete with leather elbow patches on their tweed jackets and pens lined up in the top pockets)... and, of course, lots of 'girls', definitely past the age of normal education circles.  These raunchy ladies were dressed in entirely inappropriate scoolgirl uniforms that, in my day, would have got them sent home immediately.

This was my outfit.  I did actually put some big white gym-slip panties on before we made it out, just in case of a skirt mishap on either the dancefloor or a naughty breeze.  Lots of totally cheesy but brilliant 70s and 80s classics, and a fanastic party mood all night.

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Saturday, 27 June 2020

27th June 2020

Sheer nylon delights, today.  Back in 2011 I accompanied a very lovely gentleman to a hotel on Canal Street, the heart of the 'gay' village in Manchester.

It was a fabulously debauched, frantic fucking of a night.  This was taken at some point during the night's proceedings.  High heels and a gorgeous and very sheer minidress.

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Friday, 26 June 2020

26th June 2020

Another saucy hotel photo today, I think.  Today's photo was taken back in July 2018, when I attended a fabulous Zara DuRose party with a group of friends at a country house in the midlands.

I will confess... this was taken the night before the big day, and I'd already imbibed a 'few' cocktails by this point.  Once the small group had finished dining and drinking in the bar we all retired to my room.  It maybe looks private and serene, but there were actually a few people in the room.  I also remember being pretty tired by this point, so how I got the energy to pose for the photos I have no idea.

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Thursday, 25 June 2020

25th June 2020

More Nurse Dexi advice today, gentlemen.  So, attention please.  And stop fidgeting or I'll have you over my knee in front of the whole class.

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As another scorching heatwave hits us again (no matter how brief), it is important to keep hydrated.  That doesn't mean beer or alcohol in general, as alcohol is actually a dehydrater - meaning you lose more water through usual bodily functions than you take in.  So far so good?  "Bodily functions, Nurse Dexi?" I hear you ask.  Yes - peeing (more of that later) and sweating, mainly... but enough alcohol and, well, vomiting can occur.  Trust me, I've tested this theory a few times over the years, and have no doubt as to the authenticity of the science.

Water, of course, is best for hydration - but usually, let's be frank, it's bloody boring.  Far more exciting, as a few gentlemen that I know would attest, is drinking sweet and salty piss straight from a willing lady's pussy.  Pee, like alcohol, actually dehydrates you too.  However, indulging in a bit of watersport fun is a lot more interesting than having a boring old glass of water anyday.


This one is for you, you lovely pervy kinksters.  Ready... open wide...

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Wednesday, 24 June 2020

24th June 2020

The lockdown started all the way back in March - exactly three months ago in the UK.  Over 90 days ago!  The sluggish return to normality is turning into a slow and painful crawl.  It feels a little like the promises that were made at the start of the First World War - "It'll all be over by Christmas"... only that was possibly more likely than this pandemic ending before the festive fun starts.  Moses' 40 years in the wilderness may be a better gauge.


Anyway, since the lockdown and the absence of my usual number of gentleman visitors I've taken to indulging in testing my bedroom toys... just to make sure that they are fully charged and raring to go when needed.

Today's photo is from July 2013, and is a fine example of how I pass a bit of solo-lockdown time.

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Tuesday, 23 June 2020

23rd June 2020

Lounging in Louboutins, back in Brighton for today.  In November 2019 I had a whale of a time at a Zara DuRose party in the lovely city.

Today's photo was taken in the hotel I stayed in, with a lovely view onto Brighton's lovely old Regency Square.  Another photo I don't seem to have used before, although many of this 'set' have been used for my Picture-Of-The-Week on my website and a few of the more explicit ones on my Adultwork Private Gallery.

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Monday, 22 June 2020

22nd June 2020

After yesterday's panty-post, I thought I'd continue with the theme today.  The next shot in the sequence was this one.  A closer look at my panties will show a sheen of sensual pussy juice... come on, who doesn't love a horny girl's hot, damp, sexy-sweet panties?

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Sunday, 21 June 2020

21st June 2020

After two days of well-researched, anecdotal, thoroughly-investigated medical advice (about as useful as the government's), I've decided to return to smut.

Leather gloves, seamed stockings, corset. 

And panties being pulled down, in a hotel room in Stratford-Upon-Avon, in 2013 - a usual thing when I'm in hotel rooms, of course, when in the presence of a lovely gentleman.

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Saturday, 20 June 2020

20th June 2020

Gloves yesterday, masks today.

It's a contentious issue, with even scientists unable to agree.  One look at mainstream media suggests that mask-wearing is a big help, and advise even home-made cloth ones should be used... although one proper study (as opposed to an opinion) found a different result:

"In 2015, Raina MacIntyre at the University of New South Wales in Sydney and her colleagues ran a clinical trial pitting cloth masks against medical ones. The team provided 1607 healthcare workers at 14 hospitals in Hanoi, Vietnam, with either disposable medical masks or reusable cloth ones, which could be washed at home at the end of the day they were worn. Those that wore cloth masks were significantly more likely to catch a virus, the team found."

Hmmm... so the jury is out.  They are still extremely useful for anonymity and robbing banks, though, so worth considering if those are your interests.  Anyway, I have a few masks... including one surgical mask that I've only ever worn as part of my sexy nurse outfit.  The rest are for... well.. dressing up again.  What a surprise.

Today's photo features one of my masks, all the way back in 2011.  I wonder if they'd let me on public transport with this outfit...?

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Friday, 19 June 2020

19th June 2020

After flossing advice yesterday, I thought I'd provide a little more safety advice today, this time concerning gloves.

Gloves are important.  They can cut the chance of picking up surface-borne viruses... unless you keep touching your face/adjusting your medical mask, that is.  And as many of us are by nature 'face-touchers' (up to 23 times per hour, looking at one study) it pretty much means gloves don't do a lot unless you have your hands manacled behind your back.

However, I love gloves.  Long, tight, shiny latex gloves.  Seductive, soft leather gloves, either wrist-length or opera.  Glamorous, high-sheen satin gloves.  Silk gloves, as light as a morning mist.  Delicate, delectable lace gloves.  Even slutty-but-sexy fishnet gloves.

Luckily, I know a few gentlemen that share my passion, and have enjoyed that certain touch of a woman's hands encased in fabric.

So today's advice - don't forget about gloves.  They might not really cut the risk of contacting the odd pox or two, but if you look at the photo long enough it may just make you stop worrying about it.

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Thursday, 18 June 2020

18th June 2020

The coronavirus lockdown has had a big impact across different sectors of society.  Goodwood, providers of some of the best historic racing in the world, have just cancelled their two biggest events - the Festival Of Speed and the Goodwood Revival.  I'm desperately sad about the Revival, as I had tickets and had been looking forward to returning there for the first time in a few years.

Concerts are cancelled, the pubs are still shut, the shops that are open are adopting a very Dalek-like fetish for rules and obedience, and installing one-way systems which you must adhere to.  "Obey, Obey, Obey..."  This is just like a scene I encountered at a local large chemist...



It's enough to make a girl scream.



Other things have closed, too.  You can't really get a doctor's appointment unless you are nearly dying.  Unless you are nearly dying from Covid, in which case you most definitely can't be seen by a doctor.

Dentists are also closed.  I'm OK with that one, as I'm not due a check-up until late in the year.  It has, however, highlighted how much we need to look after our health in general - once the fallbacks are taken away, it's not a good situation.

My daily care is a bit of exercise, eating healthily, trying not to drink too much (difficult at the moment!), and keeping on top of my oral hygiene.  One important thing is to floss daily.

I demonstrated my flossing skills to my dentist on my last visit.  He was most impressed, watched very closely and then took some photos "for his special collection."  I took a photo, too, just for you.


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Wednesday, 17 June 2020

17th June2020

All the way back to 23rd June 2012, today.  Stockings, suspenders and high heels, taken somewhere near Manchester's Science and Industry museum.  These shiny, black stilettos used to be my favourite bedroom fuck shoes back then, and could probably write their own memoires about the sordid goings-on... if they weren't shoes, of course.

These days I prefer my higher (and very much more expensive) Fendi 6-inch heeled sex shoes, but I still have the patent ones in my wardrobe... somewhere.  Slightly stained and battered these days, but still sexy.

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Tuesday, 16 June 2020

16th June 2020

Last night I watched an amazing, end-of-the-world thunder and lightning storm wade across Manchester.  My view from my bedroom window, normally looking to Manchester and the hills beyond in the distance, looked like this...



Gusting winds normally only seen on the Bay of Bengal during monsoon season whipped across the rooftops, blasting hailstones the size of Smarties on anyone unlucky enough to be caught out in it.



So I thought "Fuck it, let's have something sunny and cheery."  From my slightly drink-fuelled visit to Tenerife in January 2016...

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Monday, 15 June 2020

15th June 2020

Let's have someting short and sweet today.  This is another (unused) photo from my stay in Glenrothes back in June 2017.

I'm definitely feeling the need to get out and about, start living and partying again, I think, looking back at my 'holiday' snaps.  This isn't one for the 'family-friendly' album, though.

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Sunday, 14 June 2020

14th June 2020

There are noises that the UK government will be pushing retail to open shortly, following the coronavirus outbreak, and along with that be sure to expect to see some government lackey persuading us to get back shopping and spending... in order to 'save the high street'.

All well and good.  However, I see a couple of issues.

If they are determined, as they have in recent weeks, to maintain a nonsensical two-metre distance between customers, any returned items having to go back into 'quarantine' in case they are harbouring the pox, no trying on of clothes (meaning a subsequent visit to the store to return said item if it doesn't fit... which means ladies will take home a size 8, size 10 and size 12 of the same item to try on possibly, so more stuff into 'quarantine') and one-way systems inside the stores themselves, then I'm afraid it is doomed to fail.  All those impulse purchase buys (I'm a lady, I know these things) will not happen.  They'll happen even less if people (like me) simply can't be arsed to go shopping in the first place due to the restrictions.

Secondly, there's the ailing hospitality/leisure industry issue to be resolved.  Over three million people remain at risk of their livelihoods being taken away as the workplaces are simply not allowed to open.  They can't/won't function with any reduced capacity to enable social distancing.  And as for wearing a mask in a restaurant or bar... I suppose something like this will be OK...



As long as you stick to soup and cocktails, of course.

But there is another fundamental issue, I think.  I hear, and can almost understand, "nothing is worth one life" mantra whenever the easing of restrictions is considered and discussed.  However, unless there is a serious re-evaluation, re-assessment and re-arrangement of the funding to properly protect the actual at-risk people, then we are in danger of decimating huge swathes of our culture.

It doesn't stop at 'no more pubs'.  There'd likely be no more live music - not just sweaty, cramped, crazy rock gigs, but no more classical concerts... no more inspiring, fabulous live theatre, no more beautiful ballet at the other-worldy Royal Opera House (or indeed anywhere).  Restaurants, cool coffee houses, the cinema... you see, it just goes on and on.  We'd be stuck in a society with Amazon, Tesco/ASDA/Sainsbury's as our source of goods, and Netflix as our entertainment.

And it would be just here in the UK, as the rest of the world is taking the 'risk' (I'll use that term advisedly, as everything/anything in life can be a risk, which we judge individually and assess - a friend of mine can't swim, so guess what... she's chosen to never experience a canoeing adventure).

"Yes, but would you give up your life to save the Royal Opera House?" I can hear some people wondering.  Probably not willingly, but I don't think that is a plausible argument. Life is a lottery, you see, a spin of the roulette wheel.  Sometimes you come up black (sadly, as we age, the red and green are displaced by more and more black!).  So the question is, being fit and able, would I spin the wheel (it's a big bloody wheel, too, with 3,478 segments, only one of which is black for my age group)?  Yes, I think I would.  I'd still want a fucking plaque on the front of the Royal Opera House and a life-time seat on the grand tier, though, in recognition of my gamble (as it's the only time I'd get that), but it would be worth it.

Back in World War Two, 2.9 million brave people signed up to take a similar gamble to ensure our way of life could continue.  880,000 lost the gamble, and we thank them to this day, in memorial services around the country on Armistice Day.

We need some of that bravery now.  We need some leadership now, and some strong, positive decisions.  I want the vulnerable to be properly funded and protected so the rest of society can function.  I certainly don't want restrictions on who I can see or where I can go.  I don't want one-way systems in shops, events being closed, and bloody queueing to get in the god-forsaken supermarket.  I'm a girl that likes easy access and as little hassle as possible.

All of which brings me to today's photo.  Easy access.  See... how lovely does that look?  Now tell me you still want restrictions...

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Saturday, 13 June 2020

13th June 2020

High heels and very, very shiny stockings... and very probably a sheen of sexy post-fuck sweat and a scent of sex in the air.  I'd guess that I'd just enjoyed the company of a gentleman visitor, looking at this one.  Taken in a hotel room in Manchester back in March 2012. 

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Friday, 12 June 2020

12th June 2020

Back to Warwickshire today.  Another from my time at Ess&Emm in 2012.  Leather.  Lots of luxuriant leather for your delectation.  Leather corset, fetish boots from Natacha Marro, leather opera gloves and leather toys.  Lovely.

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Thursday, 11 June 2020

11th June 2020

Ah, who doesn't like high heels and stockings?  Actually, I've entertained a few gentlemen that definitely prefered the full naked option, but to me it always feels odd to be fucking with neither high heeled shoes or boots on.  Decidedly 'undressed', as it were.  And why not?  They make me feel sexy, and as for the gents, well, in-depth studies have been done that underline that men (generally) prefer women in high heels... either in images or real life.

John Updike, the classic American author, unstood the high heel attraction very well...“A woman’s beauty lies, not in any exaggeration of the specialized zones, nor in any general harmony that could be worked out by means of the sectio aurea or a similar aesthetic superstition; but in the arabesque of the spine.”  That's the lovely curve a woman has when she is balancing perfectly on stiletto heels.  Mmmm...

Christian Louboutin, the god of the sexy shoe, really gets it...
"Shoes are just a pedestal. What interests me is the power of the woman who wears them."
"A naked woman in heels is a beautiful thing. A naked man in shoes looks like a fool."
And of course... 
"A shoe has so much more to offer than just to walk."

Indeed... like fucking in, for instance.  Which brings me today's photo.  Taken in between gentlemen visitors in Decmeber 2011 at a hotel in Manchester.  Stockings, suspenders... and high heels.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort



Wednesday, 10 June 2020

10th June 2020

Time passes quickly, it seems... outside of a lockdown, that is.

I was just looking through some old photos for one for today, and came across pictures from a memorable trip to Scotland to go swimming with seals around the Hebridean island of Coll, off the beautiful West Highland coast.  That was in June 2017, but the memories make me feel as though it was yesterday.

In the many photos I took over the break, I found a photo that I've never used before.  Not sure why not (even if it is just a snapshot), but I can remember it was taken in my hotel room in Glenrothes.

I also remember glorious breakfasts at the nearby The Pillars Of Hercules, still.  I need to go back - more wonderful food, and get some more sexy photos.  In the meantime, if you are feeling a bit ravenous, have a taste of this...

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Tuesday, 9 June 2020

9th June 2020

Back in the razzle-dazzle 1980s, my mother usually watched Dynasty instead of Dallas.  There were media arguments about the merits of both.  One thing was certain, though - either show could not have been made in any other era.

Crass, often unintentionally funny, bizarre plots that rarely made any sense ("how did these stupid people become rich?" I often thought), over-the-top, that thin pearlescent of 'style' - the kind of 'style' that usually coats the garish interiors of the mega-yachts of the world's rich, but the shows were often entertaining.

Dallas of course had the greatest "we've run out of ideas, now what?" car-crash plot, when Bobby Ewing, supposedly dead for a series or so, made a miraculous return and viewers found out that Bobby's long death was "all just a dream" of wifey Pam.  The plot disaster means that only Lazarus has been brought back successfully from the dead... but then, he did have some help.



As we drift into the purgatory of the "semi-lockdown, we don't know what to advise anymore" state of the UK, I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to have my own 'Pammy' moment and wake up.

But probably not.

But going full circle and back to Dallas and Dynasty, it was all about the shoulder pads for the ladies.  In truth, only sexy-but-androgynous Grace Jones ever pulled off the big-shoulder look.  I had a go, too, in a borrowed latex catsuit for some long-forgotten night out in Manchester.  Unlike the post from the 7th June, though, I was decidedly behind the curve this time, as it was taken in 2006.

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Monday, 8 June 2020

8th June 2020

Following on from yesterday's post about masks and gloves, I thought I'd continue the health advice today.

We all understand the need for cleanliness these days, and it's important to get a good lathering of soapy, slippery suds.  Like in today's photo, for instance, taken from my trip to Harrogate in 2013.

Study it very closely and memorize it for the next time you are alone in the bathroom and need to lather and lube up.

You can thank me later.

Dexi Delite Altrincham Escort

Sunday, 7 June 2020

7th June 2020

David Bowie was a genius.  Always culturally aware of what was going on, he would sniff out new ideas like a truffle-hound, adapt them and present them to the world, so remaining seemingly a step ahead of the curve and competition.  He did that for decades, creating timeless masterpeices for future generations to discover and delight in.

We can't all do that, of course, but sometimes we do have our moments.  Even me.

This was me, ahead of the curve in 2011 - mask and gloves, nine years in advance of the smoke and mirror theatrics of today.  I might wear this exact outfit to the supermarket the next time I go.


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Saturday, 6 June 2020

6th June 2020

As we head towards the height of summer, predictably the rains have returned to the UK.  As I sit typing, dark, ominous clouds congregate overhead (don't they know about 'social distancing'?) and rain lashes the windows.  Maybe summer is over and done, and we've skipped straight into Autumn, or are we still in Spring?  No-one knows... it's all a little 'Pythonesque' out there.


It's all a little cloudy, dark, ominous and 'Pythonesque' in the government, too, it seems.  We have fabulous new laws to abide to... unless you happen to be a government advisor or minister, of course, in which case you can do as you wish. 

It is now illegal to have sex with someone from outside your household... but unlikely they have the power to catch you 'in flagrante delicto'.  You can now have visitors to your home... as long as they stand outside.  They can walk through your house to get to your back garden, but once there the stupid 'social distancing' regulations (2 metres in UK, for the rest of the world/World Health Organisation guidelines it is 1 metre - trust us to have an especially belligerent virus here... we love to be different) still apply.  So NO HUGGING.  Visitors are now allowed to use the toilet inside the house... but there must not be, and I repeat MUST NOT BE, absolutely, unconditionally, do-not-even-think-about-doing-it, any SITTING ON THE SOFA.  I am sure that the state will need extra help in catching people breaking these laws, though.  Perhaps they could employ some informants.  Maybe they could get some advice from old Stasi operatives from communist-era East Germany, seeing as we seem to be heading for that kind of surveillance state.

Outside of the home, big mass gatherings seem to be OK... but do not gather to protest about the new intrusive laws - the state will probably arrest you for that one.

What we need is a bit of transparency in these dark stormy times.  Which got me to thinking about my old see-through PVC raincoat.  I loved the sheer perviness of it, but sadly it became discoloured over the years, so had to be thrown away.  I need to get another one, I think.  Today's photo is from a visit to Cholmondelely Castle in 2013... high-heeled boots, and just my PVC raincoat.  Completely naked underneath, much to the pleasure and unadulterated joy of a chap walking his dog who suddenly appeared from over a small crest and got a full-on view.  I did a little blog on this cold, windswept trip, and can't believe I forgot to mention the happy dogwalker!

 
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Friday, 5 June 2020

5th June 2020

There's a book by John Steinbeck, written in 1937, about two men in search of work in Depression-era California.  It is, of course, 'Of Mice And Men', the title taken from on old Burns poem that has the lines "The best laid plans of mice and men, Often go awry".

"Depression-era California?  What relevance has that time got to do with now?" I hear you ask.  Two things, I think.  The whole world is potentially looking at a similar downturn thanks to Cuntid 19, for one.

The other?  Well, my 'best laid plans' to finish my daily blogs today, after seventy of them, has changed.  Not especially 'gone awry', just... postponed.  With the government looking undecided with what to do next and what bizarre plans to introduce - like bizarre, nonsensical plans that allow masses to invade local beauty beaches in Cornwall, but mean you can't visit you family indoors - it looks like things aren't changing anytime soon.

It's all very confusing.  So, I'm going to continue until either 1) the lockdown is lifted, 2) I run out of suitable photos or 3) aliens invade/giant meteor strike/return of the dinosaurs/Earth gets sucked into a huge black hole/other catastrophe.

So, today, luscious latex lingerie and high heels. Taken in 2012 at a hotel in Manchester between gentleman visitors. 

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Thursday, 4 June 2020

4th June 2020

Another for the fishnet fetishists out there, today.  A lovely pair of tights with suitable access, when required.  From 2013, taken at my first 'working' apartment.  I still have the shoes and Agent Provocateur gloves (a gift from a lovely gentleman), but the tights no doubt got destroyed during either a) an energetic fun-filled night at a fetish club, or b) an energetic fun-filled bedroom session. 

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Wednesday, 3 June 2020

3rd June 2020

Another shot from my day out posing in Salford Quays.  Fortuitously a little breezy on the day, the light wind occasionally caught my thin cotton dress.  Sadly, getting a photo at the exact time wasn't easy, especially as there were families about - I was 'followed' for a while by a gentleman on a bicycle who was also waiting for the sneaky breeze to catch my dress and give him a flash of my panties and hold-ups.

Luckily, quite a few of the photos turned out quite well, I thought.

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Tuesday, 2 June 2020

2nd June 2020

Sheer loveliness today... tights and gloves, and shiny patent leather high heels.  From my 'Cirque' photo session in 2016.

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Monday, 1 June 2020

1st June 2020

It's starting to look like the beginning of the end as I start my tenth week of daily posts, so reaching post 70, on Friday (if my mathematics are correct) seems a good time to finish.  As I've said previously, I never really expected this crazy time to go on as long as it has, so seventy daily posts is a bigger number than I planned.  However, there are still photos left, so I still may throw in a few now and then for fun.  In the meantime, I'm hopeful that I may be out and about a bit, even if many events are still struggling to take place.  I still have my fingers crossed for events this coming Autumn, as I'm definitely in need of a party and some fun!

Today's photo is from the very recent past - taken one afternoon last week, in fact.  It seemed timely to post a recent one, given the slow return to normal... what ever that was/is/will be!

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Sunday, 31 May 2020

31st May 2020

More fetish fun today.  Thigh boots (the ones in yesterday's post that got ruined), leather, strap-on dildo and plenty of fishnet.  From 2006, when I was still doing some pro-Dominatrix work and webcam work.

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Saturday, 30 May 2020

30th May 2020

What strange times we are living in.  Very like the (supposed) Chinese curse "May you live in intersting times" the world seems to be unravelling and reshaping before our eyes.  America, or at least Minnesota, burns in response to the on-screen death of a black man, George Floyd... at the hands of a Police officer.  Twitter, the social media platform for the short-of-attention generation, hides the President's response due to it glorifying violence (I find it somewhat abhorrent that a senior politician uses such a platform, anyway).

Meanwhile, the rest of the world struggles along with the Covid-19 crisis - it doesn't appear to be about the deaths anymore, as worldwide they are declining, but more about the aftermath.  Furlough is continued in the UK until October 31st - another three months from now!  It wouldn't be hard to think that someone, somewhere, wants to perhaps hide the the new unemployment figures due to business across the land closing up and giving up.  Meanwhile, the rest of us are more and more infantilized by the governments and media, collateral victims in the lemming-minded rush over the cliff.


Speaking of ciffs, the more bizarre and out of control this situation gets, the more the ridiculous draws closer - I wouldn't be surprised if the next government meetings and ideas looked like this...


Back in 2005 it was all so simple.  All we had to deal with back then was Hurrican Katrina laying waste to New Orleans, suicide bombings in London, the ongoing Gulf War No.2 (thank you Bush and Blair), the Kashmir earthquake... er, so perhaps things have usually been just as bad.

Anyway, back in January 2005 I was partying hard - probably as it felt like the world was ending that year.  I spent much of the year attending Caesars, an adult club near Balsall Common in the midlands.  A couple of friends ran various sex/fetish nights there, so I was more than happy to go along and have some fun.  As well as indulging in the party-side I was also doing lots of webcam stuff with the lady of the couple.  We had some truly great times, and even if we didn't make money on some nights it was always fantastic fun.  Sadly, I don't have many photos of those times - lots were taken, but as they were used to promote the girl/girl webcam stuff I left them to the couple to use.

I was still taking my own solo photos, of course.  This was one was taken in the fire escape stairwell of the apartment block I lived in back then.  The leather thigh boots sadly got destroyed when I was trying to lace up a lady's corset in some fetish club toilet, and the hookeye fastenings got caught on the corset lacing - we fell to the floor and in the process ripped out the fastenings on the boots.  The beautiful leather coat, thankfully, I still have.

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Friday, 29 May 2020

29th May 2020

It's still May, but one look at the clear blue skies, bright, hot sun and a temperature showing around 25°c, it could well be the height of summer.  Summer is the time for barbeques, long, cool drinks and salads.

I love salads, actually, and (even if I do say so myself) I can prepare a bloody good one.  Crisp salad leaves, avocado, sweet peppers, radish, plump and juicy cherry tomatoes, potato salad, salted boiled egg, olive oil ciabatta... oh, and cucumber.

I do like preparing cucumber.  I have a special way of making it extra tasty.  Today's photo, and you are lucky to be able to see my secret recipe, was taken in 2005.  I'd been asked to prepare the salad for a small dinner party.  I thought I'd liven the salad up with my 'special' cucumber dish.  It went down pretty well... although I don't think the vicar who was hosting the party was too impressed, nor the housekeeper who had to clean the floor afterwards.

Some people are just never grateful.

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Thursday, 28 May 2020

28th May 2020

More stockings and high heels today... but latex stockings, this time.  Taken in 2012 during a visit to a hotel in Manchester.  Probably taken inbetween visiting gentlemen.

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Wednesday, 27 May 2020

27th May 2020

Stockings, high heels, red satin corset and a hint of pussy.  The bedroom at Ess & Emm, taken in January 2012.

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Tuesday, 26 May 2020

26th May 2020

So, 60 posts in.  It's beginning to look like this whole scenario is going to get dragged out as along as possible now by the government, so it's still a tragicomedic guess, even by the 'experts', as to when we can resume some sort of normality.

Yesterday I got uproariously, crazily drunk in the afternoon sun on take-out cocktails from the local bar (Pornstar Martinis, suitably, as it's me) with a couple of guys that I'd never met before.  It felt almost... normal.  And good.  Wonderfully good. 

The photo for today dates back to November 2014, and a visit to a party held at a hotel in Berkshire.  I had a fantastic night, mainly due to having a threesome with a very sexy couple I met that night.

Good memories - I realised yesterday, during my second cocktail, that I'm ready to make some new ones.

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Monday, 25 May 2020

25th May 2020

From yesterday's black leather and dark dungeon to today - nudity (apart from high heeled sandals, of course) and bright sunshine on what was a lovely July day (the 3rd, in case you were wondering) in 2011. Brazenly taken on a trip out to Cholmondeley Castle and Gardens, in Cheshire. 

For those not used to the irregularities and oddities of the English language, Cholmondeley is (of course) pronounced 'Chumley'. 

Makes sense.

Not.

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Sunday, 24 May 2020

24th May 2020

My leather Dominatrix Bitch side today - from a visit to Ess & Emm in 2012.  The leather bondage wheel that I am leaning on was particularly good fun to use as a Domme - a wonderful device that appealed to my sadistic side.

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Saturday, 23 May 2020

23rd May 2020

Back in 2006 I had become a little despondant with the fetish scene in the UK.  The heyday hedonism of the 1990s era, where just about every night was a sexual thrill and adventure, had gone.  The scene was floundering, looking for a new direction, but was hampered by busybody and prudish councils.  Many of the northern clubs had disappeared, and as always a visit to London was an expensive night out.

So, looking for a new 'home', I persuaded a vanilla but curious girlfriend to accompany me to a fetish/swingers night at a club in Blackpool.

Yes, Blackpool.  It doesn't have the greatest reputation for hosting the wildest nights, but was close enough for us from Manchester to explore.  The club offered rooms as well as the club space, so that saved us on taxis, too.  The first time we visited it was... OK.  Good music, surprisingly.  Perhaps that's sounds unfair - I wasn't expecting Black Lace and Agadoo, but you get the idea... and it was a decent turnout of not ugly people.  Perhaps that sounds unfair, but I was kind of expecting it to look like the bar scene from Star Wars...



Anyway, although I didn't really get up to much that I recall (and if it had been special I would have remembered it!) and as much as the rooms were somewhat dated and the facilities a time-warping trip back to 1975, we decided the next morning on our way back down the M61 motorway that it was worth another trip.

It was the following month, September, that we journeyed back up the motorway to Blackpool.  It was early evening when we arrived, so we checked in and got ready for the club night.  There hadn't been much in the way of out-there fetish outfits on our first trip, so this time I dressed in a lace, see-through mini-dress, high heels, lipstick and perfume.  The panties, I decided, could stay off - I WAS UP FOR SOME FUN, dammit.

We headed downstairs to the bar area.  The music was still OK, the crowd was... thin.  Oh, OK, maybe it would pick up later.  We got drinks, got seats (there were plenty, of course) and waited for some interesting people to arrive.

Let me digress a little here.  When I say 'interesting' I don't mean like someone from that Star Wars bar scene.  We all look for those little tell-tale signs that inform us of potentially like-minded souls.  Gentlemen with the right appearance - I don't mean good-looking, here, but well-groomed, well-mannered, perhaps a naughty-but-polite brief flirt.  Ladies are similar, but can offer additional signs - gorgeous and expensive fuck-me shoes are a very good example, where sexiness overrides comfort.

Let's just say there weren't many people in the bar that either of us wanted to talk to.  Eventually a male/female couple joined us.  She was gorgeous, long dark hair, sultry looks, a hint of the very sexy Gina Gershon...



...but unfortunately her partner looked a little more like Rodney from 'Only Fools And Horses'...




... but only after being hooked on crack cocaine for a year and then getting beaten up by a gang of bikers armed with baseball bats and motorbike chains.  He'd lost a fair few front teeth and didn't look... healthy.

Never mind, Gina-lookalike was worth investing some time on, I thought.  The bed upstairs seemed enticingly close, and envisaged her spread out before me.  Rodney, however, kept interrupting me as I attempted to find out more about Gina.  It was all in vain, we all soon realised.  Gina was most definitely straight, and not interested in women.  Rodney, sadly, was very interested in me.  It was an unequal triangle that would never be right.  They soon departed to find new fish once I kindly let them know that I wasn't ravaging Rodney that night.

More people came in, but none that looked 'interesting'... and it really was now beginning to look like the Star Wars bar scene.  Not that it was particularly populated by freaks, just it was quite cliquey and they may as well have been speaking a language we didn't understand.  "I'm ready to go home," said friend, who had not been drinking so was OK to drive.  I looked around the bar, and thought about Room 1975 waiting for us upstairs.  It was only an hour's drive to get back home.  "Fuck it, let's go," I concurred.  We went upstairs, packed our things... then realised we couldn't get the car out of the car park, as it closed at 11.00pm and only re-opened at 8.00am.

Fuck.

We spent the rest of the night back in 1975, complete with the small and fuzzy TV screen that wandered in and out of TV reception - but neither of us could bring ourselves to go back downstairs and mingle.

I never went back, and I think the club has long gone now.  The world didn't shed a tear, I think.

Today's photo was taken before we headed downstairs that second night.  Ah, I remember the optimism for a fun night even now... and I remember the decor even more vividly.

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