Have you seen the “sexy mum” at the school gate? You know the one who wears the clingy low-cut top and a red lip at 8.30 am? Or the one with the languidly dishevelled rock ‘n roll hair and bootylicious jeans, who looks like she’s having an affair with an indie guitarist? There is one at my kids’ school who works a golden glittery block heel most mornings. Another one who always has sunglasses in a colour to match her many cute bodycon outfits. How do we feel about these women?
Like most lingerie bloggers on Instagram I get some weird direct messages. The other day a lady contacted me and asked me whether the set I was wearing was good for sex. I was a little taken aback and wondered if I was being cat-fished by a sleazy guy trying to start a creepy conversation. But it was actually a genuine and very frank enquiry from a woman who said she was going to have a M/M/M/M/F – that’s 4 guys and a girl, in case you’re wondering – and wanted to wear some lingerie that would be sizzling hot and … ‘functional’ for the occasion.
Being single forever and ever, and never again sharing my life with another is a prospect that I am quite happy with. I put that down to my unwillingness to be responsible for another person and also my low tolerance for other people’s personal detritus encroaching on my space. As well as that, I have a bit of a phobia of the smell of other people. I don’t want to rub up against another person’s scent for longer than I have to. A few hours is OK, one night is too much, so a lifetime of living with the “pong of man” is simply unthinkable. Continue reading “No darling, you can’t stay over”
It’s that hoary old question: Can you be still be friends after sleeping together? A stupid question. Of course you can and should be friends.
When I was newly single, post-divorce after over 20 years of marriage, my self-esteem and confidence was pretty low. When dating men, I was always anxious to avoid that bad angle of my neck, tummy or thighs. I thought about getting a boob job practically every single day. It took a while, but some wonderful and patient lovers made me feel that none of those things mattered. C-section scar, loose tummy skin, small tits, muffin top thighs… none of those things were what they saw. They saw me as the sexy and sensual woman that I didn’t even see myself. The more I felt desired, the more desirable I felt. Continue reading “Desire me, and I will be desirable”