Posts tagged ssbbw hardcore
The title is a popular song by the electronic band Prodigy, and it’s an awesome song on it’s own, but I have a memory of being taken to the hospital, where I still get a bill every month that I spitefully pay just $5 a month on for that ride. I didn’t get charged by the hospital, luckily, but the freaking ambulance company is up my ass about a ride they are charging me over $700 for. The cab ride back to the apartment from the hospital was under $20 with tip.
I got to talk to someone else recently who has endured this kind of thing. Calling out for help sometimes gets you in even more trouble than you started out with.
In this photo I look like I am a psycho nursing assistant or something, but it’s actually a patient “uniform” when you get checked in to the ER at Earl K Long in Baton Rouge for a psychiatric evaluation. Never call a suicide hotline while drunk! More importantly, make a cop take you to the hospital because you will end up with a bill over $700 for a ten minute ambulance ride!
Now I could probably try to get medicaid to pay that, but I don’t want them to get the cash that quickly. I don’t think it’s right for people to get carted off in an ambulance when they could take the ride in a cop car. I really should have refused the ambulance and someone should have offered a ride, but then again, I didn’t push it, so nobody threatened to “take me to jail” if I didn’t go in the ambulance.
I know a cop could have taken me, even if they had to cuff me, but then again, if the ones who showed up were too lazy, the one that did put me in a car would have probably threatened jail just to get me into the ambulance. I was drunk and depressed, in that “drunk crying” mode. I was allowing myself to literally shake with anxiety because in my mind, this was the potential start for a much longer journey than just the hospital trip.
I wasn’t sure at all about what it would be like, or how long they would really keep me, or what kind of accommodations I would find at wherever they were taking me. I didn’t know if I should expect the kind of thing I see in the movies, or if it would be worse.
When I got there, I was admitted, and they tested my urine and gave me ativan because the figured I was a pretty high level alcoholic to have that level, and they didn’t want to deal with seizures if I was physically dependent. Luckily, even though I have been drinking about six years, I still never got to the point where I could handle the kind of amounts that they were probably assuming.
I am lucky to have the background and history of smoking as much weed as I did, because I have read somewhere that it helps prevent seizures that can potentially come from sudden abstinence from alcohol after several years of using it regularly.
I was in a weird mood when I started this post, probably buzzed, and I even used that photo of me in the paper suit while I was creating the first draft. I would say I’m “not feeling it” anymore, but something kept me coming back to this post in an effort to figure out what I was ranting about this time.
I know that I didn’t appreciate having a $700 plus bill show up in the mail after going through such an ordeal as putting myself in that situation in the first place. Then I had to go to the hospital and show them my actual financial state at the time so that they didn’t hit me up for over $1200. That would have been over 2 grand for making one drunk fucking phone call!
At least I didn’t get caught trying to drive while fucked up because commercials out here in Nevada indicate they will take $10,000 from you by the time it’s all said and done, and you lose your car and license, unless they are figuring that all in with that horrible threat.
I’ve posted enough about “luck” and that didn’t have anything to do with never getting caught driving while fucked up. I actually have an anxiety about trying to get behind the wheel even if I have been drinking a little bit, because I know very well that if some a-hole pedestrian walks out in front of you, it’s their fault if you are sober but your fault if you are fucked up.
That makes no fucking sense to me whatsoever. I mean, if some drunk guy hits a bus stop, like one just did recently very close to where I happen to live, he should get slapped with the harshest punishment available. He fucking killed somebody. At the same time, nearly every week, some asshole tries to cross the street in total darkness in the exact point between intersections where they should not fucking be crossing. Add to that if they are drunk and wobbling all over the place while trying to cross the road in total darkness, and you can guess that Darwin’s law will prevail, and that asshole will be another statistic shown on the news.
Most of the time, those suicidal pedestrians are taken out by people who happen to be *TOTALLY FUCKING SOBER* and very lucky to have been on that occasion. In those cases, the drivers aren’t charged, because the cops know you CAN’T FUCKING SEE THESE PEOPLE IN THE DARK. If, on the other hand, the driver happens to have had as little as a few beers, then criminal charges come into the picture.
That’s why I am scared to drive drunk. I’m not scared I would cause an accident, I’m scared that some idiot would cause an accident and then I am still at fault because I happened to be drunk. Because of this, I don’t drive drunk myself, but I am not so militant about drunk drivers. If I lost a loved one to a drunk driver, I still would not occupy my time or energy in pursuing “every other drunk driver on the planet”. Those people do that so they don’t go buy a gun and take out the *one drunk driver* that really matters “to them”. 🙂 I know, dark.
I am not just lucky, but work hard at keeping myself as safe as possible when I am fucking around with a drug as dangerous as alcohol. I like getting drunk, but I understand and respect the power of that drug, and I know that it’s ironic that out of all the drugs on the planet, this is the one “they” chose to sedate us with.
I really wonder how and why they could not have encouraged the use of marijuana over alcohol because it is so much less dangerous. Then, I remember that they only made marijuana illegal in the first place because they were racist and wanted an easy way to lock up as many minorities as they could. I have read that it started with Mexicans, but it worked so well for them that they kept the law in place for blacks. I am guessing that crack was a real boom to police unions and private prison investors, as well as a big win for racists everywhere who want to continue to lock up more people than any country in the world.
I also keep in mind how big pharma and big alcohol love the lack of competition from this meek little harmless plant. Occasionally, now that the walls are coming down against the removal of marijuana prohibition, people are trying to lump in pot smokers with alcoholics, and I am kind of offended, even though I happen to be both at the same time.
I know that if pot would have been legal, I never would have started using alcohol regularly in the first place. I have to wonder how many investors in big alcohol know this for a fact, and are close to knowing an exact statistic of how many regular customers they would not have if weed was legal.
I also wonder how much cancer could have been prevented or slowed down from killing so many people if weed was legal, since it has been proven that weed does inhibit tumor growth. I have read that this was discovered way back in the 70’s, but the information was suppressed because they were trying desperately to find something *wrong* with weed but just couldn’t.
In fact, I failed to mention how genesis 1:29 in the freaking bible says that God created all plants for man to use as food. Hemp happens to be perfectly nutritionally balanced, and yet, the christians are not in an uproar that this “sacred plant food” has been taken away from us.
I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for the “food network” to talk about the merits of weed being the “perfectly balanced food” because they are so mainstream and busy slinging out the pro alcohol propaganda while they conveniently act like weed doesn’t exist. There is a “cocktail” recipe in nearly every show, with real alcohol, but they act like they have never heard of “marijuana edibles”.
I have to wonder how many people never would have resorted to overdosing on prescription medication if they never went to pills because they stayed happy with a little weed every day. I have to wonder how many people are in serious pain, and being denied those same pills even when a doctor orders them, because some dickhead at some pharmacy looked them over and labeled them a “drug addict”, even though they are %100 fucking legit.
All that makes me hate big pharma even more. if the drugs they make aren’t killing you, you are left dying in pain because the masochistic pharmacist doesn’t want to give you the shit that a real fucking doctor said you should have.
I don’t know, I like to say “I’m not crazy, this fucking reality is out of it’s fucking mind crazy.”
Of course, that is a typical statement of someone who is bat shit crazy, to assume that they are normal and the rest of the world is just fucked in the head.
In my case, when I look around at the world, and see comments people make online about different things, I really start to wonder if everybody is really fucked up in just one small way, and they are only functional because they can hold down that little bit of crazy long enough to get out of the public eye and express it in some kind of fucked up ritual.
I am happy just smoking a little weed, but that was “too much to ask”, before moving 2000 miles and going to a doctor for x-rays that show I need a hip replacement at the age of 46, and I am going to suffer in pain until it is replaced. If I still lived in Louisiana, they would be giving me fucking tylenol for this massive occasional hip pain. Louisiana can forever suck my balls.
Even now, I consider how after surgery, I will probably be given some heavy duty shit, and because I have long hair, the dickhead at the pharmacy might deny me of it when I really need it. On the other hand, I have a history with my pharmacist, and I don’t go in there all nervous, anxious, and itchy, bitching if there is any delay on my precious fucking pills. I have been in there and watched the kind of people they have no choice but to turn away. At the same time, the local news makes a big deal out of people who have had to go to up to 30 pharmacies to get one medication, and one of those fuckers was in a fucking wheelchair!
When I said “take me to the hospital” a little part of me had given up. I reached a kind of “rock bottom” that didn’t require a televised intervention or even the participation of family and friends. At the time, my family was literally scared of me more than they were scared for me, and my “friends” were pretty shitty and fucked up themselves at the moment.
I had nobody to turn to but myself, and while I did check in for a 3 day holiday, it was really educational. After all the alcohol I had abused, it wasn’t until I was on ativan that I managed to see from a slightly different perspective, and pull my head out of my ass long enough to finally start to straighten out all the shit that was fucked up with my life.
In a way, the visit to the hospital did absolutely nothing to improve my “condition” on it’s own. The medication combined with the intense boredom of being stuck with nobody to talk to but yourself was enough to change my perspective to the point where I realized that I either had to figure out a guaranteed way to take myself out, or I had to figure out a way to maximize the potential I have for growth and development in the future.
I think that a spiteful part of myself wanted to get back out there into “reality” just to see how much trouble I could cause without getting into trouble myself. In a way, I think I am still doing that. My work is pretty unique, because there aren’t many super sized, or super morbidly obese women who are approaching 500lbs who literally suck and fuck on the internet.
I had to sober up “just enough” to get a job, to keep the apartment, to meet a few women, to build my confidence, to get Candy back, to get back to work doing what I was meant to be doing all along.
In a way, my life is even more crazy now than it was when I was just drinking myself to sleep every time I woke up. I was boring, typical, useless alcoholic. Now, i create content that is just raunchy enough that it stands out against the competition just enough to pay me just enough to make me want to keep creating it.
I am kind of taking money away from other people who are doing the same thing. Every dollar I make I am grateful for because it’s a dollar someone could have spent somewhere else, but didn’t. I realize that everybody and their grandmother, LITERALLY, are trying to make a dollar in the adult realm online.
There are granny phone sex chicks that are super sized but don’t even use that to their advantage, or just started to recently, which gets them into modeling. That’s how I met and got started with Dia from bbwdungeon.com. She was in phone sex, she was a SSBBW, and she didn’t think that she could market her real look in order to promote her phone sex. Now women are doing it all the time.
I love saying “grannies” because I did some math and concluded that a woman is old enough to be a “granny” at just 32, if she had a kid at 16 and that kid had a kid at 16. When you raise that to 18, you get 36. If you raise it to 18, you get 42. Candy happens to be 42 right now. 🙂 I have concluded that when Candy does hardcore content, it is not just SSBBW hardcore, it is actually SSBBW granny hardcore. 🙂
Being a ‘granny’ isn’t just for “parents” anymore. 🙂 Being a MILF probably doesn’t require having kids anymore. Even if someone has biological kids, it doesn’t mean they have to have custody of said children when they do porn in order to be called a “MILF”. I think that is just one of many “flattering” terms that have been given to fetishes and sexual preferences that don’t involve magazine cut out “allegedly perfect women”.
For example, “BBW” is supposed to mean “big beautiful women”, but I have often commented upon how the “beautiful” is easily disputable not only based on facial charisma, but on personality and general attitude. In other words, there are some fat women out there who are just real bitchy cunts! They really don’t deserve to use bbw no matter what they look like, but I like to call them “big bitchy women”. 🙂
So, the content that I create can get a little crazy, because all I have to do is cross over into a few more fetishes and it gets insane. I put on a horse head mask for one video and so there is “mask play” and “pony play” as well as the already crazy combination of SSBBW granny porn. If I toss some food in there on top of that, you have “feed me fuck me” ssbbw granny porn with mask play.
I don’t know, but maybe I just found a way to end this post, and justify the title “take me to the hospital”. 🙂
Also, this reminds me of how badly I want to do another SSBBW “feed me fuck me” hardcore clip and Candy has been procrastinating because she is fixated on the food she wants for feedee videos!
My life really is “crazy”. 🙂
The title might be misleading, because I am not talking about anxiety on a ‘hardcore’ level. That would become apparent without explanation, but I was compelled to use that title before thinking of how it would appear to have a different meaning than what I wanted to infer, simply because the story of why it exists would clear it up without this ‘disclaimer’ being used to clarify.
I found this unusual feeling of anxiety come over me just before posting the last clip on the store. It is a hardcore clip, and I really like this one because I had been practicing some mental exercises to regain a much higher level of climax control.
It had been a long time since getting back in front of the camera myself, and the previous time, there was more time spent waiting for climax to chill the fuck out instead of doing some serious continuous porno style pounding.
I don’t have anxiety about getting in front of the camera, because in the end, I choose what to release and what not to release. At the same time, I still ponder releasing content that shows me passing out drunk while trying to have sex with a ssbbw and she’s texting people on her phone.
I think that shit is awesome. I find the reality sense of flawed work more interesting than something that looks plastic, fake, and magazine cut out. I find it funny when I am failing in front of the camera as I look at it afterwards. While in front of the camera, because I have been doing this for over a decade, I don’t feel anxiety at all about it. I can’t, because if I were to let that creep in, I would have difficulty in maintaining erection AND controlling climax at the same time.
That is the worst too, because if there is ANY effort being put forth in order to maintain an erection, one has to continually skate the edge of climax. If there is ANY issues going on with maintaining control of climax, you are just fucked, and not in a good way.
Just wanted to add some music, if it stays there, but this is a stable channel. I almost laughed as I typed that. I have had 8 youtube channels deleted because even though Candy was not nude in any of the clips, they were considered “obscene”, according to the standard terms of service note that let me know they were digitally murdering 8 of my fucking channels.
There is probably more anxiety about doing hardcore video on Candy’s side than mine. I don’t have anxiety because again, I can just delete the clip, or distribute it for free somewhere as if it got “leaked”. I use EVERYTHING though. My first porno was on VHS tape, and I got it mail order by lying about my age by signing some bogus form, after saving up from mowing lawns to buy my first VCR just for this purpose.
The first porno was not edited at all. There was a disembodied voice of a producer in the background telling them what to do. There was also a lot of laughing and messing around that was probably supposed to be cut out. Some guy literally paid a couple of people to fuck in front of a camera, then placed a tiny ad in the back of a porno, and sold this shit probably out of his house.
The actors in that first porno were not fat. I wanted to see “porno” because I had been exposed to it “at a friend’s house” at probably the age of 14 or 15. Once I got a taste, I had to keep watching it sooner or later. I believe one of the first films I ever saw was “taboo”, but I can’t be sure if it was that movie, or if that was a preview that was shown before the cheesy crap that was being put out at that time.
I eventually tripped across fat porn by literally calling every 1 800 number associated with every porno ad in the back of every porno mag I could get my hands on. Long before the internet, I was doing research by literally cold calling porn distributors asking them for fat porn.
Using that technique, I eventually came across a few fat porno tapes, but a lot of them were from Europe, because back in the 80’s, nobody thought of using fat models for porno until some creepy guy started calling all of them asking for fat porn.
I remember “wrinkles and ripples”, which was probably made in the UK, because there was no dialogue, only shitty music, but there was a scene where two guys walk into a building, and the architecture is unmistakably European, and early 80’s. One or both of these 2 guys walking into a fat prostitute’s apartment were not circumcised either, which is a sure sign that they were not in America.
I am circumcised because it was forced on me, but I’ll take it, because a lot of women seem to prefer it. I still don’t think it’s cool to just do it without permission from the male though. People bitch about genital mutilation in Africa while they do this shit to every male born as a standard in the USA. Anyway…
That first porn with fat women actually had old people too, hence, the “wrinkles” part of the title. Back in the 80’s, they were combining fetishes in these combo tapes because nobody assumed that fat could stand on it’s own. As the years passed, and we get into the 90’s, I remember going to a few adult book stores that were destined to be closed down by shitting fake religious Louisiana politics. Those book stores actually took the leap and had a “fat section” that was separate from “weird and freak” type stuff.
I could almost feel relief that for once, the BDSM and D/S stuff was considered “freakier” than fat porn. Maybe I wasn’t a total freak for being attracted to super sized women after all. No, I am a fucking freak and a half.
So, there is zero anxiety about performing in the porn coming from me, but Candy might be concerned about having a complexion that exists in reality rather than having a magic wand that could photoshop her ass in real life. I know that some of my work could be criticized because I don’t touch up complexion or use filters to hide shit. I have always considered my work to be “real”, and then this shitty “reality television” crap came along.
It’s ironic that people don’t see the connection between the content I create and “reality tv”. Maybe because my shit is “porn” so it can’t count as “reality”. It’s really ironic because porn is about as real as people can get, when they know each other and have been doing this shit for over a decade. When you toss 2 people in a room with a full crew and a producer yelling out instructions in between takes, I’m sure it’s not as real as my shit is. The corporate stuff is so fucking *pretty* though, so it has it’s own following. My shit is gritty, and sometimes literally ugly, and that’s what I like about it.
When I look around at fat porn, I am most drawn to the content that features more realistic models, with actual real life flaws, who act like real people. Heavy duty faking is annoying, begging for cum and then reacting to it like it’s nuclear waste is annoying. Two people acting really attracted to each other while they actually can’t stand each other is not going to translate very well with people who are “porn stars” and not “actors”.
My shit is real, flaws and all. I almost think about it like some kind of perfectly balanced equation. Nothing can be perfect. If perfection was a requirement for existence we would not fucking be here. It’s wild that as I get older, I start to see porn like MATH. In fact, I am starting to see this entire reality being broken down into common denominators and simplified fractions. It’s almost like how the characters in The Matrix were able to see what was going on from streams of numbers and characters across a screen.
When Candy is worried about a flaw or imperfection, I try to remind her, that she is thinking with her brain, and not my customer base’s collective brain. When I saw imperfection, I feel some kind of common ground with people who are literally “out of my league”. If a woman doesn’t have a perfect complexion, or she has some obvious flaw, it makes her more “real” in my eyes.
Imperfection doesn’t seem like a very real qualifying factor in making someone more attractive. We generally see imperfection as something that takes away from perfection. The real truth is, all “fat people” are already considered “flawed” based on their fat appearance. Trying to make flawed fat perfect is something I wish I had a clever analogy for off the top of my head. Maybe “lipstick on a pig”, but that might sound insulting and harsh. Cliche is rarely friendly or politically correct while trying to convey a message of truth that few really want to hear or believe.
I can talk to her all I want about how she is just the perfect fulfillment of an equation that makes her known at all in a world of plastic people, but it won’t help. She is working with her brain, her bias, her experience, her wisdom, her perception, and her reality. As I get older we get along better because instead of being personally offended by some of her observations, I can appreciate just how different her perception can be from mine, as we both simultaneously experience the exact same reality, as 2 unique observers.
Every once in a while Candy will say “fuck it, let’s fuck in front of the cam”, and I am down, like setting lights up before she finishes the sentence. I jump in there full throttle, so much so I might forget to take my socks off and look ridiculous. It doesn’t matter, I leave it in there. 🙂
I love doing it. I get a rush from fucking in front of the camera that brings me back to my “first time” long before Florida and Lexi from fatfantasy.net. I remember spending long days in a back room repairing computers fantasizing about using one to make money instead of having to figure out complex computer issues all day every fucking day.
The first chance I get to express this desire to create fat content, it starts to take off, and then I figure out that I can’t co-exist with Lexi at that age, and that level of impulsive behavior not checked by a clear sense of consequence or long term planning. I was “young, dumb, and full of cum” and I could not resist fucking exactly the woman I wasn’t supposed to exactly when I wasn’t supposed to exactly where I wasn’t supposed to.
I rebelled against Lexi’s control, because I was really in control of all that shit, and she was confined to a bed barking out orders and making unreasonable demands, and conning the fuck out of me the whole time. I deserved it, I was young and stupid, I made promises I could not keep, and I could not resist opportunity when I had multiple bbws and ssbbws flirting with me and tempting me to step out now and then.
i walked away from Lexi and started all the way over from step one. I worked for 3 years for someone else while I slowly accumulated new content and started from scratch. I managed to pull it off though, and by 2002 I was working on version 2 of hotbbws.com because Lexi shut me down for using the Florida shit the first time.
Getting in front of the camera again was getting revenge on Lexi for taking all that content away from me. I have seen content with me in it now and then, and it always reminds me of how I don’t have copies of that shit myself, because I was a fucking “nice guy” and didn’t just take all that fucking shit with me when I left.
I didn’t even take a camera. I had to work for months to save up to buy my first fucking digital camera after leaving Florida because I was too fucking stupid to just take the shit that my credit paid for.
Ok, enough of that. Maybe that conveys the passion and drive behind everything I did after I left Florida. There can’t be anxiety about creating hardcore content within me because I literally get off creating it.
The reason for using the title hardcore anxiety is because of a feeling that sometimes comes over me at that last moment before I am about to post the content I have already created, edited, and uploaded.
I should be so anxious to get it out there I can’t stand it, but sometimes I actually procrastinate before taking the final steps of writing the description and hitting “add to store”. Once I start writing the description, I am into it big time. The last description I wrote was probably so weird that people might want to buy the clip just to see what the fuck I am talking about.
Once I start writing, something seems to just take over, like right now, as I check and see that I am rapidly approaching 2000 words and instead of wanting to stop, my fingers are moving faster and faster. I can type up to 80 words per minute if I am in a good mood and not drunk, and when I start writing here, I may actually go higher than that. I get the figure 80 from the last pre-employment typing test that I took, so that was an unbiased computer generated test with a result that I could only influence by actually typing really fucking fast on demand.
Writing the description soothes the mysterious anxiety that comes about just before adding the clip. I love creating the content, I am excited while editing it, and I can’t wait to promote it. At the same time, i started this follow back shit on twitter, so now I am about to post really inappropriate content still images to a bunch of people following me just to get a follow back.
I don’t have anxiety about losing followers on twitter, because every time I lose 10, I get 40 more at the same time. I don’t even care about twitter itself so much, because it started out as an experiment to figure out how it works, and why people are so bat shit crazy about it.
I still don’t even use a smartphone, so I’m not seeing that shit constantly all day. I didn’t log in at all yesterday, but I did take a moment to log into “tweepi” just to “flush” unfollowers and reciprocate new followers by following them back.
I have managed to make twitter so mathematical and impersonal, I may have actually defeated the entire purpose for it’s existence, except as a source of amusement now and then when I am already procrastinating.
So, I experimented myself right the fuck out of feeling good about promoting my shit. At the same time, I have picked up so many fat, bbw, and ssbbw porn reposters that I could lose %90 of my followers and the remaining %10 were actually MORE IMPORTANT than all the rest. Twitter is mathematically fascinating to me.
Yeah, it’s very impersonal when I can log into an app outside of twitter itself and do 69 clicks to resolve the imbalance between people I follow, and assholes who add me to get a follow back and then unfollow me like I don’t fucking know they did that. I’m ready to start seeing repeated attempts to do this shit by familiar avatars.
I don’t even fucking care about twitter, but now it has turned into some kind of game for me, which is actually more exciting than World of Warcraft ever was. It involves real people with fake avatars just like a MMORPG, but this is a different type of game, because it also involves gaining followers in a specific niche and working the fuck out of it.
So, it’s like the first “video game” I have come across that amuses me to the point of wanting to do it every few days, but at the same time, instead of collecting fictional “gold”, I am acquiring followers who will tend to repost my shit when I am putting out some awesome new SSBBW hardcore and I actually stopped procrastinating long enough to list it.
Hardcore anxiety in my situation is really minor, and it only takes place at the most perfect time, when all the hard work is done already. This minor anxiety is something that I want to dig deeper into my own brain to figure out. I have tried to attribute it to the PTSD left over from Candy’s previous departures. I have wondered if I occasionally suffer from premature ejaculation for the same reason. It’s like i want to shoot my load in her before she can take off again or something! 🙂
I still have climax control, but every once in a while, that shit sneaks up on me. The time when I created the horse head mask hardcore video, the scenario of wearing a mask excited me unexpectedly to the point where I was struggling big time with climax control. I still managed to pull it off, in a few different positions no less, but it was a constant struggle, believe me.
The next hardcore clip had more preparation and getting into position than it had hard sustained pounding. Again, the fact that it had been so rare to create hardcore after all those feedee clips, contributed to difficulty in containing my excitement and my cum too.
I have found that having just a few beers, not getting loaded, but just barely buzzed, can help a great deal. Of course, if you cross a line and go too far with alcohol, there is a potential for difficulty in maintaining erection too. I can’t help but remember the song “Too Drunk To Fuck” by the Dead Kennedys.
I don’t resort to that though, because Candy doesn’t like to have sex with drunk people, and even if we have been together since Feb of 2002, if I am buzzed, I’m still “drunk people” in her perception, and I understand that. I also don’t like to resort to the use of drugs in order to control aspects of my self, or my being. When I use drugs for intoxication, I am exploring a part of myself that I can’t access while sober. That is different.
So, without any enhancement from alcohol, or even Viagra, I have a damn good time in front of the camera. The last video clip that featured hardcore was excellent. I had Candy nearly trying to fake orgasm to get me to climax, because I was getting kind of rough on her, and going on a little longer than necessary for her sexual preference. At the same time, I had finally done just enough hardcore video in just short enough increments that it just started to “come back to me” like “riding a bicycle”.
Even then, the evening that I could have posted the new clip I ended up getting drunk, and when I get intoxicated to a certain degree, I really don’t want to write because it is going to be so fucked up and make even less sense than I manage to make when I am fucking sober, like now.
So, hardcore anxiety is something I still deal with in that strange procrastination technique. Even with that one evening delay, the next day, I was so eager to list that clip that I literally could not do anything else until it was complete. Sometimes, the anxiety may just be a simple sense of timing. Maybe posting it the night before was just a little too soon, because it had not even been a week since posting the last clip.
Maybe the hardcore anxiety is less related to the type of clip, but the fact that I literally can’t wait to list it, so I have to stop myself and hold out as long as possible before slamming that shit up!
Either way, that clip is up, and I am tempted to post another clip on the day that the hardcore clip would have been normally added on a once a week schedule. I don’t want to exceed the once in a week schedule because I am literally concerned about making too much money to be eligible for medicaid, while I am carrying out that whole separate experiment.
Maybe the reason i was compelled to write and get to the bottom of this one thing was just to help me come to the conclusion that I just wrote. One experiment is actually getting in the way of another. Because I have lived with this cursed sense of irony, a part of me may actually be creating a concern about making “too much money” because that’s exactly what a part of me really wants.
What a first world problem to have though huh? Maybe it’s because I need a hip replacement and I am very concerned about being made even more disabled than I am with a bad hip, so I have to maintain the low income to make a transition into disability much more convenient.
Maybe I am concerning myself with the possibility of being physically more fucked up and making too much money because a part of me has experienced something all through life where my low expectations generate a much more emphatic positive reaction when I was wrong about what “could happen”.
I worry about making too much money, and a part of myself realizes just how easy it is for me to make money, and I am left with a variable in an equation that involves future probability entangled with low expectations versus the motivation and drive to do “better than expected”.
More simplified, by worrying about making too much money, I am kind of guaranteeing myself that I will, just to fulfill some kind of passive aggressive inner conflict.
By worrying that some surgeon is going to fuck my hip up, I would be highly pleased at an outcome where I can still walk, and actually have less pain that I do now.
I know, that is a totally fucked up way to live, but then again, it’s the way that I have continually gotten everything I wanted, so much so, that I am left to worry about things that I can’t control, which I have to stop myself from dwelling on, so I can continue to control reality enough to get what I want out of it.
I have to actually concentrate to think of the next thing I “really want”. Odds are, I am going to get it, but I hesitate in even granting focus to something I think I want, because of the possible unintended consequences that may go along with it.
At this age, at this point in my life, knowing what I know, I would never have fallen for the tricks that Lexi played to get everything. At the same time, I don’t have the need to search for and find another Lexi, because as many times as I have lost her, I am still with Candy.
Maybe all of this helps me to work out the lingering PTSD involved with almost losing Candy repeatedly. I know that I still have abandonment issues because of that, there is still some degree of insecurity because of it, and I never would have even attempted to carry out the kind of affair that I did last year if I wasn’t still suffering from some kind of residual emotional effect of her leaving both times.
Now I have caused a negative emotional impact on yet another innocent bystander because of the fickle nature of Candy’s whims. I am not openly resentful about that, but a part of me has not let go of it fully. I’m still bitching about Lexi and fatfantasy. net and that shit started in 1998 and ended in 2000. That little 2 years of my life is still fucking with me. It may be one of the main reasons that I am still creating hardcore content at all.
Another interesting thought comes from this stream of consciousness writing now. As I begin to finally resolve feelings of resentment for Lexi, I start to lose focus of my motivation and drive to create hardcore content in the first place.
Now a part of me can perceive what I am doing externally, because of all the experimentation with alcohol and weed. I can see this old guy who is desperately trying to hold on to some former position of glory, that can and will never be realized again. Maybe that’s part of what would be an otherwise normal “mid life crisis”, except that the biggest thing I accomplished in my life besides what I do now is that fucked up, highly traumatic 2 years with Lexi.
I am letting go of all that, or I started to really let go of it when I heard of her passing just weeks after I destroyed all my physical copies of that work. Irony strikes again. The only person obsessed with keeping me from using that work dies just weeks after I destroy it so I don’t have to look at it myself. Luckily I did save one cd full of photos out of 21 cds, and they were the ones that meant the most to me.
i can let go of the resentment for Lexi and still remained focus on creating what I truly love to create. After all, how many women closing in on 500lbs do you see getting fucked and swallowing right now??? 🙂
Yeah, I am really lucky to have the drive and desire to create this content and have such a willing participant. I don’t feel the loss of Lexi or that entire group anymore, because I have been guided by fate and destiny to be lucky enough to work with this super sized angel.
I managed to comb time and space in order to find one SSBBW that is not scared of cock or cum, and who loves doing this shit so much that if she is faking it is humorous instead of erotic. The truth is, once cock gets involved, she is not faking one bit.
That’s what makes her shit so great. I can see it when a woman is struggling to tolerate a situation, or has some kind of allergic reaction to cum after begging for it for 15 minutes.
I know that is harsh, and I realize that I could not possibly imagine what drives a woman who has such an adverse reaction to being cum on to do porn in the first place. At the same time, the phrase “you had one job” comes to mind too. I have had talks with Candy about this, and she points out that if it gets in your eye it burns, and I can accept that, but it doesn’t explain why some women will allow an actor to cum in her mouth and then literally gag even if she is going to spit it all out.
I never worked with a “real porn chick” before, because I am under the impression that I could not afford to hire them, and Candy would be somewhat intimidated to work with them, even in softcore “side by side” type modeling. There is one model that lives right here in Vegas that Candy and I have talked about, and we would be more than willing to come up with a few hundred to hire her, just because of who she is, but Candy is still intimidated by her.
There have been a few other women who have offered to model for the same amount, but they are escorts and not really professional models, so I am hesitant to invest a nickel in them because of the nature of being an escort in and of itself. From what I have heard, some of them are really good at word play to the point where a guy is paying them to feed them and just hang out without even going all the way. If an escort works to create that kind of scenario in a non modeling situation, I imagine that they would be hard to work with as they try to “let the clock run out” while doing the bare minimum and not really putting their heart into the modeling itself.
I could be wrong, an escort could be an excellent model, I just wouldn’t know, because I’m not spending $300 to find out! It’s hard for me to justify spending that kind of money to hire a model, when Candy appearing by herself is guaranteed to bring in something. I get the feeling that paying someone $300 to model next to her would never bring in that much more than a video clip of her by herself.
I’ve stopped asking around about modeling now, because it’s not really my place to do that. It’s up to Candy, because she is the one who has to stand, sit, or lay next to this person. Candy may not even be prepared to do that with another model at this point, so I am leaving it up to her if another model ever appears with her again. The last time one did, it was 2009, we were in Baton Rouge, and the woman didn’t want to get paid because she wanted “shared content”.
Here in Vegas, finding an established model that wants to do shared content with Candy is not as easy as you might think. I think everybody here wants to get paid, for anything, and I can’t blame them. At the same time, I see these group photo shoots and I know that each woman probably wasn’t paid individually, because they all have websites, and they could all use that as shared content. In a big group there isn’t usually anything sexual going on, just 3 to 5 big women hanging out while posing next to each other.
Candy hasn’t ended up in that situation, because she has not worked to create that situation. If she had any interest in going out to “bbw parties” and stuff like that, she would meet women there that do this kind of thing all the time. Candy has had a bit of social anxiety though, so without making a grand appearance at a bar somewhere, these other women will never meet her in public, and in the past 3 years, they have not made any effort to come to her.
I don’t really care anymore if I get to work with anyone else now, ever. I had a mild curiosity when I saw a few Vegas bbw models posing together, but then I realized, being a full time model is not even Candy’s “job”. She volunteers to do this for me. I am just lucky enough to be around when she is going on a food splurge, and she doesn’t mind me pointing a camera at her while she is binge eating.
I am also very lucky that Candy is ok with me bringing a camera into our sex life, because I don’t think there are very many SSBBWs at her size doing the sexually explicit type of content that I am creating. If there are, I just haven’t found them because I’m so busy making my own porn that I have lost interest in looking around at everyone else’s.
I can’t believe that as long as this post was already, I came back and added more to it. I guess I was thinking that I was too harsh to end this post with that statement about how unusual it is for a woman to take a job where she is begging to be cum on for 15 minutes and then suddenly has an involuntary spasm of disgust once she finally gets what she asks for. Why work in porn if you hate cum? 🙂