No More Laughter Allowed
I saw this topic in a Reddit thread a few days ago. I didn’t want to comment in that post, mostly because once you do, you kind of become a bit of a target for a lot of the nonsense and abuse that happens on social media – especially when you disagree with the majority.
The question was posed from a woman who was asking others for their thoughts on a work-related situation. Her issue was that, as a woman in a male dominated department, she encountered some challenging reactions when she tried to joke around with her male coworkers. She explained that when she tried to participate with humour in their banter, the mood would turn serious, and her male coworkers would shift their demeanor to a more serious tone.
For me, I can kind of relate to her situation … but also can’t.
I’ve written many times over, both on here and on my Twitter feed, that I used to enjoy a very sexually charged, flirtatious atmosphere with my male coworkers – my Office Guys – a number of years ago. I have come to accept and understand just how unique that situation was, and I won’t lie, there are many days when I miss it terribly.
But …
In today’s hyper-woke, hyper-sensitive, hyper-offended culture, I feel for men in their relationships with non-sexual partners (i.e., female coworkers). As a society, I feel we have lost our collective sense of humour – and our common sense. We have moved from a society where humour was accepted and acknowledged to one where people are invested completely in finding opportunities to be offended. We have traded our ability to separate banter from harassment, and embraced defense and offense instead of laughter.
I have always been a relatively flirtatious woman. I like men, I like having fun with men, I like laughing with men. I also know the difference between teasing and honest misogyny. I have the ability to match pun for pun, wit with wit … and use my tongue with razor-sharp effect to cut deep when it’s needed. I have my husband to thank for that – a man who loves the female species sometimes a bit too much, but has helped me learn to be in control of who I am, and that inside of everyone there is the ability to be the ice-cold killer and the polar ice-cap melting vixen.
And while I know there are limits, boundaries and barriers – I have been blessed with a career that has allowed me to be more in control of my relationship to those over having to deal with others who have sought to “put me in my place” because of my gender. I’m smart enough to also know that there are many women who have not had that in their lives – and some women have needed far more intervention than should have been necessary.
All that said, I hold hope that most men are decent humans; that jokes and off-colour humour are meant to bring out laughter rather than expose flaws in their character. I’ve actually only met a very few men who hold head-shaking beliefs about women…and even fewer when challenged over their attitude.
I think that a lot of workplaces in this modern era – the so-called #metoo culture – have put men … decent men … in a precarious position. They have been pushed, out of fear over career-killing reprisals, into an environment of “don’t go there….look her in the eye, don’t make her laugh and for God’s sake don’t compliment her new haircut.” Good men … decent men … have been painted with the same brush the hyper-woke used on the likes of Weinstein and his ilk. And it’s this that has killed the banter, the fun and the old-school camaraderie in workplaces.
And that’s sad. It’s unfair, and it’s sad.
Me, I miss laughter and banter in the workplace. I miss compliments and innuendo about my new dress/skirt/heels/etc.
But, what would I know … as, oh, so many on social media – men and women – have pointed out, I’m just a pathetic, cheap, cheating whore selling herself to men on the Internet because I have no self-respect.
To which I say, “I thought that was you who signed up for a year’s membership…”
Andee xoxo
Sex In My 40s | Those Conversations
I was chatting with an online friend recently about how life takes its own path. We were having a bit of fun reminiscing about the fantasies we would share with each other in the early days of our chats – the late night, masturbatory sexting and cybersex. He is well aware that my husband always knew what was going on – I’m not one to keep secrets (well, mostly, anyway!).
Do the sex conversations between you and your husband change as you get older?
This is a really interesting question for me. The easy answer is “absolutely!” If only it was that easy.
Human nature and relationships would suggest that, yes, as you become deeper into a relationship your conversations are also going to evolve. I think that’s pretty much a given for any subject.
My husband and I have now been together for almost 33 years – and many things in our life has changed with experience and age. Everything from our favourite foods to our politics has shifted over those three decades – and I think that would be a pretty normal journey for most people.
In terms of sex, and sexuality, we have grown together and tried new things. We have discovered new fantasies and thrown out old ones.
For me – and this is just my view – sexual adventures are far more intriguing, exciting and properly scary when you are young and in your sexual prime. Or at least that stage of life where society says you are in your sexual prime. For me, that was my late 20s and early 30s. I was confident in my body and my looks – and I was raring to see where I could push the boundaries. I was horny and more willing to experiment.
Our sexual conversations within our marriage were almost “what’s next?” like we were living by a checklist of sexual tasks. It was fun, exciting, erotic – all those great ideas evolving and seeking opportunities to explore happening regularly.
It was during this time in my life when I finally had the courage to come out as a bisexual woman, and with incredible support from my husband, explore sexually. Most guys would say “who wouldn’t want to see their wife with another woman?” But the reality is never what mainstream porn shows you. There were many occasions where he just could not be there in order for certain things to happen. It was not a “show” for him, or staged. It was me trying to find out who I really was.
Those conversations were never about “Did you lick her pussy?” and etc. They were honest, nerve-wracking admissions of emotional roller coasters and doubt and excitement and discovery. They were the kinds of conversations you never see in lesbian porn.
Also that time in life was one where we explored a more open marriage; dabbling in swinging and seeing where we could go sexually if other people were involved. There’s a lot of stereotype around the “lifestyle” but I will say there is one that is very prevalent, and pretty much bang on: the swinging lifestyle is very much a herd mentality of picture-perfect, tight-bodied, magazine-cover-model people. If you don’t fit into a very narrow ideal, you will be on the outer edge of the experience. It’s a highly cliquey community – and nasty, and not in a sexual way.
Others will say different, but that was our experience.
Did we meet some awesome people? Absolutely, we did; some amazing people that were a lot of fun who still occasionally send a message and best wishes for life events and holidays. We also met some of the most shallow, narrow-minded, horrible people we have ever met (outside of recent political circles). In the end, it was an experience that we were happy to have tried so that we couldn’t say “what if”, but it’s not something we’d go back to.
Looking back, I can see how so much of our conversations were experiential, rather than philosophical.
Now that we’re both “middle age”, we no longer fit into that herd. We’re a little past that ideal body image and our magazine cover is more Psychology Today than Sports Illustrated Swimsuit.
So, where do the conversations go? Well, they mature. We talk more realistically now about sex fantasies – and by that I mean we talk about them knowing that they are simply fantasies and we’re not going to set out in search of turning them into reality. And some of those fantasies have matured into more realistic ideas; more on my husband’s side. For example, I know he like me to dress in a certain sexy style, so if we’re going out somewhere that calls for dressing up, I will wear that lingerie underneath and then later, when we’re home I will tell him a fantastical story about how another man kept looking at me from behind my husband, and how he was undressing me with his eyes…and how I was helping him with little flashes and peeks up my dress, etc.
As we have grown together –and grown a bit older – the mind-fuck has become far more sexually rewarding than, using the above example, going for the reality of trying seduce a stranger and engaging with him sexually to cuckold my husband. If I was 29, hot, tight and horny, we might have tried it. At 48, I actually prefer how much it turns my husband into a desperate-to-please-me sexual animal after a lovely dinner date.
I still tease the hell out of my husband, revisiting those stories of my wonderful Office Guys, and how it’s challenging to draw out the naughtiness within my new male coworkers – most of whom are easily 15 years younger than me.
These days, the biggest change is how the sexual conversations today are balanced with honest topics about aging and sex. There’s no point in trying to hide the fact that we’re not 30-somethings anymore and can fuck all night long. Physically, we’re changing, emotionally as well – and like almost every other person on the planet, there’s a mental exhaustion brought on by the pandemic.
But, thankfully, we still openly share our fantasies – and every now and then, I’m wonderfully blessed to turn one into reality.
Andee xoxo
One Fantasy One Time Only
I find it hard to explain when I get asked if I would do something again; especially if that request is a sexual one.
There are experiences that are simply one-off moments in my sexual adventure. Some experiences “happen” without a lot of planning, while others have been discussed, analyzed, over-thought and over-questioned for months. And some were never intended to be anything more than “let’s try it, just once” and then moving on to the next thing.
Is this a bitter blog entry? I hope not, but I do hope that you will get a sense of why my sex life isn’t always this wild, swinging from the chandelier lifestyle.
Although the Internet – and my pseudo life as Andee – has given many wonderful avenues and opportunities to explore, behind all that is the real woman. A real woman who isn’t as confident as the Internet allows her to be, and has a habit of feeling really, REALLY, nervous when sexual opportunities come her way. It’s easy to be bold online; it’s not so easy to be as bold when you’re sitting on your bed in black lingerie, stockings and high heels while a man who isn’t your husband strokes his cock to incredible hardness while talking dirty about what he wants to do to you.
Ah yes, just like a recent video and photo session that took place that has been an idea for many, many years. It was also an experience that so many men had been begging me to try for years – almost as many years as I have been sharing myself online with you.
It was just not an experience I ever thought would actually happen … nor was I fully prepared to hear the kind of things from a man standing right in front of me about what he was about to do to me … while my body was going “fuck yes!” and my mind going “my hubby will save me from this, surely he can’t think this is a good thing.”
Still, even as we carefully planned and staged the experience, ensured the safety (and privacy where necessary) of everyone involved, it was an experience that I felt absolutely terrified over. But don’t get me wrong, it was also something I had had a very deep, burning, pussy soaking desire to try – if not just for those who were longing to see me do it, but also for myself. Good lord, I was desperate to try…
In the end, I was left unbelievably rocked in the greatest sense possible.
In fact, the Internet gave me the ‘rationale’ and almost the excuse. Thankfully, my friend is an amazing – inexplicably amazing – man who invested as much care and concern into my husband as he did with me. That’s a real rarity.
It’s not easy to find a ‘playmate’ who recognizes that an encounter is nothing more than a singular event. The Internet would have us believe that it’s as common as a blink where you can find a sex partner, have a wild, intimate fuck and then move on to the next idea. It will never capture the emotion, the human connection, the many (many) conversations and talking out the scenario.
Trust me, no 48-year old married woman is just hooking up with a boyfriend – especially one that may cross traditional barriers – like a snap of the fingers. It just doesn’t work like that, even if the Internet says it does.
In my case, this whole experience has taken a few years to come to fruition. I met my friend through school (less so than extra-marital sex, but still a terrifying experience for a 40-something woman), and together, we NEVER anticipated such an encounter. I bravely broached the subject of such an encounter when I was living overseas and we were simply engaged in very platonic online chatting. Slowly, over the span of a few months, I shared more and more about my life as Andee. He was genuinely intrigued – and surprisingly encouraging without ever offering a hint of sexual interest.
Four months ago, like so many throughout the pandemic, his personal life took a left turn. We began chatting more intimately about life and living. A small part of me – I think fueled by a couple gin and tonics – decided on night to see where the line was. I asked him if he ever considered the idea of me beyond the bounds of a married friend who would occasionally have a naughty chat. We began to talk about my website, real sex, adventure and experience. I’m not sure where it became more personal over philosophical, but it did. We shared openly about our own sexual past, desires and fantasies.
With him knowing about my life online, I told him how some of my fans had a desire to see me with a man other than my husband; bluntly, a black man…the cuckold fantasy. I have lived my life trying to be as “colour blind” as possible – I couldn’t care less about a man’s background, as long as he’s sincere, kind, loving, trustworthy and emotionally generous. I don’t even remember who said it first, but it got said … and neither of us shied away from the idea.
And that set it in motion.
This is a story with so much I could say, but I’m not sure it would take you anywhere different.
The conclusion to it all wouldn’t change. My friend is a dear love – a very platonic, dear love, who I share a very unique friendship with. Even without the sex. It’s bigger than a moment we created together to allow me a wonderful gift.
But I also know you want something as well, my dear readers. So …
Yes, he fucked me. Our platonic agreement set aside for a night; exchanged for a massive, breath-taking erection and a married woman wearing stockings trying to calmly rip open a condom wrapper. There’s a video and photos. Ask me if you don’t know where to see them.
More so, I think you want to know more about my outlook on the experience.
I can’t tell you how terrified I was. I must have asked my husband close to 1,000 times if this was right, if it would change things, was I doing what was right, what they hell I was thinking … all those scared shitless questions. Every single time, he assured me that everything would be perfect no matter what happened…that there would be no regrets, no “what ifs” when that final moment came.
I also can’t tell you how unbelievable it felt. It may take some time before my pussy recovers from the sensations and experience.
What I can tell you is that what happened once … will remain “what happened once.” Through all the times my husband and I explored swinging and testing the boundaries of our sexuality, I never had another man penetrate me so deeply, bring me such incredible pleasure. We played, we explored, we fantasized … we never reached this point.
But this wasn’t that. This experience was a gift from my husband and my friend for something that is outside the reality of who I really am, and where I want to be going forward. It will never replace what I have with a man who has loved me for over 30 years and shown me the greatest experiences a woman could imagine.
And for reasons that never come to reality on the Internet, it will only be a one-time experience. My friend and I … will indulge ourselves with friendship rather than sex.
But … damn … did I get fucked!
Andee xoxo
Sex In My 40s | Being A Slut
This time of year seems to bring out the naughty in many of us – sexy Halloween costumes, parties and a mood of crossing the boundaries between temptation and responsibility.
What was your sluttiest experience?
Well, I think a lot depends on what you consider to be ‘slutty.’ Back when I was in high school, a slut was the girl who was known to be rather easy – and have an extensive sexual track record. And that is pretty much what continues to be the standard description.
For the most part, the traditional use of the word has been associated with a woman’s sexual depravity.
However, I do think that in certain circles the term has become a little more accepted as a way to describe a fantasy approach to a situation or appearance: a Halloween costume, a style of dress for a swingers’ dance, a badge of honour for a hotwife who admits to being a playful and sexually adventurous woman with clear permission from her husband.
I don’t have a very extensive track record when it comes to sexual partners. I think if you’ve hung out with me for any length of time on the Internet, you’ll know that I’ve been with my husband for over 30 years. You’ll also know that any sexual adventures have come with his clear involvement and permission; and don’t rank in sexual numbers rivaling that of a championship basketball game’s final score.
Now … having said that … I know there have been more than a couple situations where my appearance and behaviour would have been met by those with a more narrow view as “slutty”.
So, let’s take a moment and ponder. You tell me if you agree, or if they even rank.
College party blowjob
I blogged about this one before, but it was way back in college – https://andeesc2.wordpress.com/2011/06/30/five-places-ive-blown-his-mind/
My roommates threw a party – which wasn’t really out of the ordinary. At the party, I met this cute guy and a couple of us were just nicely flirting, nothing insane…and then one of his drunken friends dared him to show my girlfriend and I his “apparently” large package. The guy was kind of sweet, telling his friend that he was just chatting with us, etc., etc. Well, as guys can be guys … and some of us girls can be easily swayed with a few drinks … things began to get a lot more sexual. Finally my girlfriend calls him out on the dare. Needless to say I was shocked, but intrigued anyway.
A bit more of the verbal this and that, and then we headed to one of the bedrooms because the guy said he would, but not in front of the whole party. We went upstairs, but his drunken buddy bailed for the bathroom and never showed up. So there were the three of us, me and my girlfriend sat on the bed waiting for this guy to show us the goods. He dropped his jeans and goodness, it was impressive.
“Nice, but it’s not hard?” my girlfriend says. I was stunned, shocked, surprised…drunk.
He starts stroking himself and it grows … oh, it grew! My girlfriend is being a typical drunk, giggling and carrying on. Then she bails! I’m sitting there in the bedroom with this guy standing in front of me stroking his cock.
Um…not what I expected from my college education; naïve little engaged farm girl.
And he’s not stopping and I find I’m not moving either, just watching very intently as this guy masturbates just a couple feet in front of me. He asked me if I wanted to feel it, or something like that. I mumbled something back about being engaged and babbling about not … you know … but it looked so incredible and I was really starting to have that horny battle in my head. I think he said something back about touching it didn’t mean intercourse …
So, I let him take my hand and he shuffled a bit closer to me. I wrapped my fingers around it and I remember how hot the flesh of his cock felt in my hand…and how it was big.
As I stroked him just a little, he edged closer. He was pretty much right in front of my face…
I remember saying I wouldn’t swallow … and I still remember how he tasted.
Swinger’s club
When we first started to explore the swinging lifestyle, we began by meeting different couples online and chatting to see if there was any chemistry. It took a while before we finally connected with this one particular couple.
After a few weeks of chat and exchanging some naughty photos, we agreed to meet up and check out a lifestyle club.
The first time out with the couple was a pretty vanilla experience, filled with that sexual tension and nervousness of a bunch of horny virgins; no one wanted to make the first move.
The second date with this couple was a lot more fun. After the usual “how’s things, blah blah” we settled into the groove of the night. My husband isn’t the biggest dancer in the crowd, so when some more modern music came on, our female friend grabbed me by the hand and led me out onto the dance floor.
For the first 20 seconds of the song, it was just a normal two-girls-dancing kind of thing. Next thing I know, she’s pulled her top down and her amazing breasts are right there for all to see. And, far be it from me… now we’re both topless on this dance floor, totally into each other. She reached out and began to fondle my breasts. It felt amazing to have her hands on me like that, so I returned the favour.
As the song went on, I began to feel a little more adventurous in the moment, so I moved very close to her and bent forward so I could suck on her nipples. They were so incredibly responsive in my mouth, and I could hear her soft moans as I nibbled on her. She moved her hand to between my legs and lifted the hem of my dress so she could touch my now wet pussy.
This whole scene carried on for a couple songs – bless the DJ for recognizing what was happening on his dance floor and keeping that same rhythm going! Everyone who bothered to watch (there were other couples dancing) got a very erotic girl-on-girl show.
And every now and then, the memory of that encounter pops up in my mind and my magic wand lets me find some incredible release from my horniness!
Another episode occurred during another visit to a lifestyle club.
I hadn’t really noticed too much of who was on the lower floor, as I simply immersed myself back into the conversation among the four of us at the table. My husband had his hand back on my knee, so I kind of shuffled a bit to inch closer to him … not a really conscious thing I guess, just a couple thing. I was enjoying the moment when I felt a very odd sensation. OK, maybe not “odd” but definitely unexpected. Someone was gently stroking my ankle and calf. I kind of twitched in surprise at the initial moment, but chose to “ignore” it. I mean, let’s be honest, I was completely and utterly enjoying it!
I didn’t look down to see, partly because I was afraid they might stop, and also I didn’t want to give any clues to my husband and friends at the time. I had strong suspicions it had to be one of the guys that had watched just a few minutes early; so I left it with that in mind
Gradually the person turned from just a casual light touching to a gently massaging of my lower leg, and then in a most deliciously teasing way, inched ever so slowly higher towards my thigh. This continued for a few minutes, and it was making it hard for me to keep up my end in the conversation, as I was obviously distracted. As this mysterious hand worked its way higher, he would slide it along the outside of my thigh, his fingers just sweeping under the hem of my skirt. At one point I shuffled so that my angle was a little more towards whomever it was, all the while keeping my other knee close to my husband. I was not yet ready to spoil the moment.
It was driving me crazy how whomever was doing this would inch high up my leg for a moment, and return to stroking my ankle and the top of my foot. I think he must have known that such actions would torment a woman, and he must have known how to test the limitations of whether or not this was a welcomed touch. By now, of course, it must have been obvious to him that I was neither going to stop him, or rat him out to my table mates.
When my husband excused himself to go the washroom, I think it must have been the window my mysterious man was looking for. I adjusted myself to lean a little bit more into the table, so it looked like I was leaning in to keep up the conversation, keeping my legs just slightly parted. I felt the hand on my other leg now, gently caressing again, then with no risk of being found out by my husband, he slowly stroked the inside of my thigh. I edged forward just a bit more … and there it was! His fingers delicately swept across my pussy.
I kind of flexed my hips ever so slightly in a way to say “I want it.” I hooked the heels of my shoes into the stool and pushed back against this mysterious hand. He lightly brushed the back of his fingers along my very wet and swollen lips and then – just before I damn near begged out loud, slipped one between my lips, but just not quite into me. It was the most incredible sensation and I was trying very hard to push against him without being obvious.
The torment continued for several minutes and in my mind I was pleading for my husband to take a good long time in the loo! But, to my extreme frustration, he returned and the teasing came to its end.
Office Guy seduction
There are way too many things to say about this one. It went on for almost a year before we finally had the opportunity to consecrate the very naughty relationship between two people who were married but not to each other.
By the time we checked into the hotel, I was pretty rattled. I still wasn’t entirely sure that my Office Guy would show up – and even if he did, could we even go through with any of the notions I had in my head.
My heart damn near beat right out of my chest when I heard the knock. I greeted my friend at the door wearing nothing but my bra, panties, stockings and garter. Not exactly what I had intended, but I had told my husband that I would open the door in whatever state of dress I had reached.
As my friend came into the little hallway of the hotel room, he gave me the once over, and one of those looks that said he approved. I could tell he was as nervous, so I kissed him in an effort to try to calm him down a little.
From there, I brought him into the main room to meet my husband, and enjoy a little small talk. While all of us were chatting, I was gently touching him, kissing him … encouraging him to do the same to me. It felt incredible to have his hands on me … even more so with the fact that my husband was just a few feet away, and approving of the whole experience. To have that kind of freedom in my mind to know this was really happening just added to my sexual excitement. My husband nestled into his little corner to sit back and enjoy the show, while my Office Guy and I finally got down to business.
We laid down on the bed and made out for a couple minutes while he ran his hands over my body, eventually reaching down between my legs where he could feel how wet, turned on and ready I was for him. He had touched me there once before, during a little heated moment in his office last week – when I showed him I was wearing stockings to work … but that touch was only through my panties. Well, we were at work! This time, my pussy was all his to explore.
He then moved down between my thighs so he was in position to lick me and set to work with his mouth … One of the things that truly sent me over the edge was during this sensational pussy-licking, I glanced over at where my husband was sitting and watching intently. He gave me a little wink and smile … and from there I knew my fantasy was everything I wanted it to be
In no time, I was clutching at the sheets on the hotel bed, pushing against the headboard with my hands as I lay there on my back. The reality was unbelievable as I reached down between my stockinged legs and clutched at my friend’s head. I think I may have muttered a few words between my moans as I surrendered to my desires. My Office Guy slid his long finger deep into me, stroking my g-spot as he continued with his amazingly talented tongue and proceeded to bring me to an incredible orgasm.
I have explored a little with other men in my sexual adventure, but he was the first man – other than my husband – in over 20 years to make me cum that way. I’m not one that easily reaches orgasms – even more so after having children – and often enjoy a little extra help in getting there, so this was an amazing surprise.
So, is any of that in “slutty” territory? I don’t know. But then, I think when we judge others for their sexual adventures, we’re really just projecting our jealousy on them for doing things we really wish we were doing.
Andee xoxo
Sex In My 40s | 10 Questions
Yeah, OK … it’s been, like, forever since I had a blog post. Unfortunately for all the fun we had here, life just got busy. And with that, some of my inspiration and enthusiasm for all things naughty took a hit.
I’d like to promise more frequent posts … but let’s pretend our relationship is brand new, and we’ll take it slow for a wee while. How’s that with you guys?
I have a ton of questions to answer that guys from all over have sent me. I thought a good way to ease back into my blog would be to share some answers and let that begin to restore my thoughts and passion for sharing dirty words with you.
You tweet a lot about your male coworkers, and flirting and such. Are you really that flirty with them?
I certainly used to be. In one of my old jobs, I worked with a lot of fun guys – I called them my “Office Guys” – and we were very flirty with each other. We all knew the unwritten rules and boundaries – and despite the social climate around relations in a workplace and #metoo – I made sure my Office Guys knew full-well that I was a willing participant in the game. It was just an environment that needed to have some humour and distraction. And yes, I would sometimes dress up specifically for them – dresses, short skirts, and maybe an outfit or two that could have been considered a bit ‘unfair’ in the game, etc. It was all fun, harmless and flirty – and my husband was well aware of everything. These days, however, I am in a new job and work predominantly with other women, and the workplace is much different. I do miss my Office Guys and I do miss the fun we had.
Have you ever, or would you, open the door naked?
As crazy as the idea is – and popular on the Internet for the (you know most of them are staged/fake) “pizza delivery guy” videos – no, I wouldn’t. The idea can be fun, but the reality is much different, especially in my offline life.
When sunbathing, how much do you bare to dare?
Depends on where I am. Despite my province allowing for women to go topless in public, it’s not something I would do as a habit – and the beaches near me are all very family-oriented. Now, when I am at home in my own yard, I will tan topless.
Have you ever done a striptease or lapdance for anyone?
No. I’m not really much for putting on that kind of dance show. I can be a bit awkward – kind of like Elaine’s infamous dance on Seinfeld.
Do you like being tickled?
No. I really don’t enjoy it. In fact, my husband knows if he wants to piss me off at lightspeed …
Do you like being blindfolded?
Depends. I’m not so keen on it during a kidnapping … but in a highly consensual sexual situation, it can be very erotic. Being blindfolded during that kind of play – where there is a high level of trust – it heightens the sensations and anticipation.
In the bedroom, what makes a partner a champion lover?
Good question! In a fantasy/perfect world sense, there may be some unrealistic ideals … but in reality, for me personally, if a man wants to consider taking home the big trophy, he needs to pay very close attention to my needs. It’s cliché to say “she cums first” – but that is the primary goal in the championship game; satisfying my sexual needs and desires first (but not as an exclusive effort – foreplay works both ways). It should be something that he has practiced repeatedly, and brings it every time. I can assure you, if a man achieves that level, he’s definitely going to enjoy the rewards for his effort.
When it comes to spicing things up in the bedroom, how adventurous are you willing to be?
Short answer – pretty far.
Adventure for me always requires a level of planning and agreement. If my hubby showed up with a collection of hot, sexy, hard men ready to send me into orgasmic nirvana – without me being in that immediate mindspace – things may not develop as intended. But he knows me well enough to know that if I really wanted an adventure like that to happen in real life, it would be a journey we take together.
My willingness to explore is pretty high, provided it is an area that comes with an understanding. I think a lot of people view adventure as being something spontaneous, but in my view it doesn’t always work that way when it comes to a sexual experience. The older I get, the more intrigued I am by new experiences – both sexually and not. But I also am becoming more pragmatic about those; what is fantasy, what is adventure, and what can really happen in real life – and how much training will I need to be prepared for what a collection of hot, sexy, hard men ready to send me into orgasmic nirvana are going to do to me!
When was the last time you dressed provocatively to attract attention and flirting?
It has been a while. Even taking the pandemic out of the equation, a lot of my life over the past few years has been driven by working in an environment where dressing up is not practical. I also no longer travel for my work – conferences and meetings. And, then a period of time living overseas where my husband and I spent far more time exploring history and the country than dressing up and going out to posh places.
Apart from that idea of my surroundings not being very condusive to it, I have to be honest that I also have gone through a period of feeling unsure and insecure. It’s natural as you age, your body changes, you go grey … you notice that you don’t turn heads as much.
I get no shortage of encouragement from my hubby … and so I also politely remind him that he needs to start taking me places where I can slip into those outfits.
What was your motivation for your most recent masturbation session?
I was horny … I had this little fantasy playing out in my head after reading a few chapters of a rather erotic romance novel and, well, it got things stirred up.
Let’s be honest, moments of self-love are most often driven by a sexually-charged feeling. Maybe you need a little stress relief, or having a lingering thought in mind about that cute guy or girl you saw that day … or maybe you’re bored. The important thing is, it’s always OK to indulge yourself. Masturbation is healthy.
Andee xoxo
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