My Job in Her garden

Really, I’ve been out writing for others, patching and preventing hack attacks, stressing on many sites and servers. Just not on this one. Day in, day out. Night in, night out. At one moment these days, I’ve mentioned to Doris that I’m not sure anymore how close I could be from a burn out. When she hears this term, it rings the bells with the diagnosis she got from a doc over a year ago.

Well, instead of following the procedural steps — according to standard prescriptions and recommendations, I should have taken her to the psycho ward and let them experiment that latest branded chemicals on her brains — I didn’t, choosing another way, as you may know already. Instead I initiated her in the little secrets of a behavioral therapy. How to become a porn star — would sound the marketing mantra if we’d ever consider launching ourselves into the filthy, whory, misleading field of marketing.

Doris, my exclusive porn star, wanted to fight back, to keep me sane and as far as possible from the shores of “burn out.” With my birthday approaching, she asked, like she does every year, what would I love as a birthday gift. I answered, like in the previous years: YOU doing something sexual to me, on the camera. This is my preferred birthday present. Sure, if I’d be to count how many times a year she does sexual things to me in front of the camera, then I’d have to count at least 3-4 birthdays a month…

Possibly conscious about the colloquial porn marriage of ours, the ambitious Doris took her question further: “How about I let you buy a new camera? Then I’ll perform in front of it.”

Triple wow! That set me back a thousand parsecs away of the nearest “Burn Out” galaxy, at least in our quadrant. A minute later I was on ebay, digging. Wary of no name new brands, I grabbed a second-hand old SONY camcorder with a 40GB HDD inside. Remember our bed movie “Over the Pink?” Forty-four minutes with her over me, under me, in front of me, and the Canon missed my spurting as it ran out of memory. “No more of that!” I told myself. Honestly, the old refurbished ThinkPad on which I’m writing this blog has a 40GB HDD inside. Like my newly acquired camcorder. Neat.

Don’t haste to think that buying a second cam won’t have consequences. First, it’s a Full HD camera and this means that we can record our romantic moments of porn into a resolution of 1920×1080 pixels. Not such a big deal for web distribution, but a real turn on for the fans who asked Doris to send them DVDs.

Anyway, from now on we’re making movies with the 16×9 aspect ratio and, when needing two cams to witness us from two simultaneous angles, we’ll have to convert the classic 4×3 aspect ratio into the new wide-screen 16×9. We? Nah, me! Because Doris will graciously make love, or dance, or strip, or tease, or pose. But me? I’ll have to process all that stuff, gazillions of more pixels to churn through that tired AMD. Oh my, oh my. I feel dizzy again… “Hey, Doris! The burn out is coming back… I can see it…”

Comedy rantings aside, my lovely cougar bunny decided to break yet another record with the occasion of my 46th birthday: she blew me (not without me giving her a hand) and played with herself in a new spot of our garden, one that is more visible for two of our neighbors — if they bother peeping over the fences.

All this in a twenty-two minutes long HD movie, our first porn in HD HQ at 1440x1080px – I didn’t dare go all the way up with the resolution, for now! Anyway, it costed me two white nights and two dark days with the deinterlacing and adapting for the web. OK, ‘nough moaning and groaning. Wish you happy watching (members only).

Wait a minute, how about the title: “My Job in Her Garden?” You’ll figure that out, trust me…

Watch the HD movie in the members' area.

Watch the HD movie in the members’ area.

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