Category Archives: panties

Masturbation | Not much to confess

My friend, Miles, recently shared a fun Internet article with me about female masturbation confessions. It was an amusing piece with women giving examples of when they got caught, strange items and a couple downright creepy moments (such as the girl who got caught by her dad…who simply stood by and cheered her on).

IMG_7414aI had a strong sense my friend was, in his own way, probing to see if I have any more of my own “confessions” to make.

I think we all have a sexual curiosity; and there are those moments when we feel adventurously horny. But what would make it a “confession”? I mean, seriously, I’ve written at length about self-pleasure; made movies for you to watch me pleasure myself; and, constantly share research data with you about who else is masturbating and how often.

I’m not sure there’s much left to confess in terms of my own masturbation adventures. There have been a couple unusual objects, public viewings and those old days when I actually had time to share on webcam. My husband has caught me masturbating, my children have interrupted me while I was masturbating … I’ve held conversations on the phone with people while masturbating (and they didn’t know what I was up to). I’ve never been afraid to talk about – or experience – moments of self-pleasure.

However, I didn’t always feel this way. There was a time in my youth when I carried a hint of shame around over the act. Some of that was my Catholic upbringing, and some of it was my level of self-esteem. Masturbation is a hugely private matter, and when you let others in on your secret, you expose your own vulnerability.

Masturbation is also something women just aren’t supposed to do. Society has twisted views on how women are supposed to behave, and the sexual acts they are socially allowed to participate in.

Maybe the one confession I can revisit with you – since I have disclosed about all there is to disclose – is how my morning commute can be more intriguing than just another traffic jam. I still find my mind wandering back to these kind of moments when I am lost in … you know.

One of my former jobs allowed me to dress in a more flirtatious and teasing manner. Every now and then, I would take advantage of lovely warm summer weather and my libido to wear something just a little sexier than usual.

The highway is always busy – with frequent stops, sits and starts. When you have those moments to reflect on the naughty side of life, your mind can take you into some very interesting places. It was also during this period in my life where my relationship with my Office Guy was really beginning to heat up; fueling a lot of my fantasies … and adding reason for wearing certain outfits to work.

The particular morning I’m thinking about I remember feeling much braver than most. I was horny, and life at home – busy as it always is – was leaving me a little unsatisfied. I was wearing a particular dress I always feel very sexy in, and my imagination was drifting to a place directly connected to my temporarily neglected pussy. About halfway through my drive, I got into one of those rolling flirting games. A transport truck had been consistently staying beside me. I figured the driver could see a hint of the exposed flesh of my thighs – the hem of my dress was up high enough to give him a teasing glimpse. At first, it was an innocent coincidence. The guy honked, gave a little wave and smiled at me … I smiled back. A few kilometers up the road, we found ourselves stopped side by side. I glanced, he smiled and I’m pretty sure was enjoying the view.

This flirting carried on until we reached a point where everyone had come to a stand-still. The truck came up beside me, again, and just stayed in place…I could only assume so he could look into the front seat of my truck and continue to enjoy the view of my legs. As the game had been going on, I had also been sexting with my husband (I use voice-to-text, so don’t judge me) and he had sent me some pretty steamy messages. Teasing with both men had my libido on the rise and my panties wet.

Feeling brave and not having much else to do while waiting for the traffic to move, I pulled up the hem of my dress so it revealed my panties. Without looking over at the guy next to me, I slipped my fingers under the leg band and began to gently massage my very warm pussy.

I kept playing, pretty much losing myself in the moment until traffic cleared. I pulled ahead and left my poor road voyeur with nothing but the memory of seeing my fingers buried between my thighs, working myself into a sexual lather.

Later in the day, I found a private moment to provide some sexual relief … and waited a very long time before ever telling my husband about how while he was sending me naughty texts I was masturbating for a trucker next to me on the highway.

Andee     xoxo

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Six Reasons To Talk About Lingerie

With the Christmas season on the horizon – and, who could ignore the massively-advertised newest American holiday of “Black Friday” – there is no doubt some of you guys are going to be wondering what you can get for your significant other to significantly improve your chances of unwrapping her in the near future.

Lingerie has been a go-to for bedroom fashion for eons. I suspect even the earliest attempt at a seductive statement likely involved some cave-dweller trimming a touch of sabre-tooth tiger fur off the hem of her frock.

But before you launch yourself into the lacy realm of stockings, garters and teddies, there may be a few conversations worth having with your intended lingerie model. Unfortunately, nothing will put a chill on a romantic Christmas evening than a naughty present that isn’t accepted with the same excitement it was gifted.

Six reasons to talk about lingerie:

Know her tastes

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If your wife or girlfriend doesn’t have a lot of colourful underwear already (bras, panties) … stick to the basics of black or red.

Let’s start with the easy; and keep in mind, the whole idea of knowing her tastes falls with almost every other point below. Her daily wardrobe will give you the best clues to her lingerie personality. Are her colour choices are subtle, vibrant, coordinated? Does she own more than one pair of heels higher than 3-inches? Pay attention to her everyday life to discover the best way to get her into something a little sexier. If her go-to look is your old college sweatshirt and a pair of tired ol’ track pants, chances are she’s not going to trade them for a clingy, sheer, gartered teddy with some Cuban-heel stockings.

Classic looks are always winners when starting out – flirty babydolls, lacy teddies, even the three-piece bra/panty/garterbelt set. Save the kinky stuff until you know she’s really into playing the seductress role.

Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. If you saw me in my daily setting, you would never suspect I had a travel trunk chalk full of naughty intimates. Some women have conflicting environments – a work role that is stylishly restrictive, so a bedroom style that blows up the sensuality and sexuality. But if she’s one these women, you’ll already know.

Know her reality

In all the time you have ever been together have you heard her say, “I just love how that thin fabric strip of a thong makes me feel like I’m being sawn in half.” I hate thongs. I almost never wear them except for when I do photo shoots or with the occasional dress that won’t let me get away with something I find more comfortable – and even then I can assure you, I’m weighing the reality of going commando.

It pays to know what she likes in her daily life – because if she thinks you expect her to get all glammed up for a night of bedroom passion, she’s already feeling performance anxiety. Don’t add to her reluctance by making her stray too far from what she feels comfortable in. Besides, if you play the whole plan properly, the thong/bikini/boyshorts won’t stay on for long anyway.

Know her limits

Ask yourself the question “Will she really like this?” I love lingerie. I wear a lot of it, I pose in and out of a lot of it … I’ve had men who weren’t my husband buy me lingerie to wear, I’ve bought lingerie to wear for men that weren’t my husband. But over time I have also come to realize that I tend to be a little unique. Most women don’t own a lot of lingerie, and some probably have only ever worn it on their wedding day. If this is your partner, that 50 Shades of Grey-inspired pleather outfit with wet-look stockings, riding crop and 6-inch stilettos may not be a good way to introduce her to the idea of wearing lingerie.

If your wife or girlfriend doesn’t have a lot of colourful underwear already (bras, panties) … stick to the basics of black or red. If she’s self-conscious, black is always best even if it is a bit cliché. If she’s a more colourful type, ask her what her favourite colour is and stick with that.

Also consider if it is the kind of lingerie you’d like her to wear outside of the house. That can also determine how much of a leap is required in her comfort level.

Know your budget

Maybe you’ve heard that country song by Gretchen Wilson that says “Victoria’s Secret, their stuff’s real nice … but I can get the same thing from Wal-Mart half-price.” I’m not suggesting you cheap out on your purchase, but you also need to recognize that some women may only wear your purchase once. And they may only wear it for a matter of minutes. Are you really keen on dropping that $600 for La Perla or Agent Provocateur?

As someone who has worn a lot of different pieces of lingerie over the past several years, I can honestly tell you that your best bang for your buck won’t come from the money spent – but the consideration given to how she will look while wearing it, especially if she is not a frequent connoisseur of lacy things.

Know her size

This goes without saying; if you take nothing else from my blog today, at least take this one tip with you. There’s no excuse for not knowing her size – she has a drawer full of bras, panties and other assorted items that she wears on a daily basis. Do your homework before you buy.

Predict the future

OK, you’re probably wondering how this relates. Easy, if you pay attention to the clues she gives you and her lifestyle, you’ll already have everything you need to wow her with lingerie that she will happily slip into. Just like hunting, don’t go in for the kill if you haven’t stalked your prey – and a woman in lingerie is a rare and allusive creature. She can be skittish and easily scared off.

Above all, if the risks still seem too great, try the old-fashioned route: ask.

And don’t forget the stockings …

Andee     xoxo

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Masturbating Behind The Wheel

A few weeks ago I posted a statistic on my Twitter about how 12 per cent of men admit to masturbating while driving. It was just one of those intriguing stats that tend to spark some curiosity in my mind. It’s not something I have witnessed, in my own experience, but have heard since from guys that have indulged in a little stick shift manipulation.

Naturally, the question came back about how many women have…um…popped the clutch? I wasn’t able to find an answer, however I did find lots of blogs, forums and comments asking the same thing. And a lot of fun answers from women who have. The second part of the question following my tweet was – do I fall into the category?

I think I have mentioned it before in something I wrote, but yes, I have revved my engine on occasion.

OK, I’ll put the brakes on the bad automotive puns and accelerate to the point.

You know what, guys? We’re not that much different from you when it comes to some of the racier things about self gratification. There are times when we’re just as incredibly horny and need to find a release. I doubt that you would ever get an admission, but remember back in high school, when you had that untimely erection in class? Yeah, there were times when we got as equally turned on … we just had an easier time of disguising it.

So, when it comes to trying something in the heat of the moment … a masturbatory road show … I’m willing to bet that there’s an equal amount of women out there who have dabbled with some passing lane diddling.

Personally, I had to think about the last time I did it from the driver’s seat. I have entertained my husband a few times with some passenger seat orgasms, but truly solo, it took a moment to reflect. The one occasion I distinctly remember was at a time when I was feeling especially horny and adventurous. I mean, one of those periods when you have that turned-on sense that lasts for weeks, not just a momentary “hey, this might be fun to try.”

In was the midst of one of those late summer weeks when my husband had been mercilessly tormenting me, both at home and on my cell phone with highly sexualized flirtation. He had worked diligently to ensure my mind was distracted in hopes that there might be a fleeting encounter with my Office Guy at work. I had dressed for the occasion, openly admitting now that I was more than just game for this kind of fun.

My commute was always unpredictable. Sometimes I could cruise along, other times it was snail’s pace. But no matter what fate awaited on the highway, it was always busy – so self-gratification wasn’t always an easy distraction.

This day, however, I recall feeling much braver than most. I was wearing a particular dress that I always feel very sexy in, and my mind was willing to be a million miles away from the daily grind. About halfway along, I found myself caught up in one those rolling flirting games. I had passed a transport truck and the driver noticed, from his angle, the exposed flesh of my thighs – because the hem of my dress was up a little higher, innocently at the time. He honked, and smiled … I smiled back. A few kilometers up the road, we found ourselves side by side again. I glanced, he smiled and I’m pretty sure was rather pleased with the view – of which I had just got on.

Jump forward another few kilometers and everyone is slowed down to an almost stand-still. My new road companion drew up beside me, again. This time, he just stayed in place, so he could look into the front seat of my truck and continue to enjoy the view of my legs. I had just received another hot text from my husband, so my libido was on the rise – much like the heat of the day.

So, feeling a sense of bravery, and really not having much else to do while waiting for the traffic to move, I adjusted the hem of my dress so it was pretty much exposing my panties completely. Using the hand I didn’t need for the steering wheel, I slipped my fingers under the leg band and began to gently massage myself towards even more wetness than I already was.

Fortunately, none of that caused another accident, and when traffic cleared, I pulled ahead and left my poor road voyeur with nothing but the fond memory of seeing my fingers slipping into my panties and working myself into a lather.

I finished the job later on, at a more opportune time to bring about some sexual relief … and waited a very long time before ever telling my husband about it!

Andee     xoxo

Sexy Northern Angel

Things We Don’t Do When You’re Gone

Earlier this weekend, I read this article from a usually reputable magazine; which is why I was left disappointed with the context. The article was one of those “Seven secret things she does when you’re not home” – and was obviously written by someone who has no clue as to what women do while the man in their life is not home.

Sept5Pretty much none of the things she mentioned in her piece were remotely close – with two exceptions: watching documentaries you’d never sit through with us, and masturbating.

Otherwise, it was way off base to even suggest that we do things like: check out our naked bodies in the mirror, walk around the house naked, pre-watch our favourite shows, watch bad talk shows/reality shows, shove copious amounts of junk food down our maws.

I’ll tell you why … unless you live in a permanently tropical climate with absolutely no chance of anyone ever spying on you, we’ll never “walk around naked” while you are not home. Add to that startling wake-up, most of North America (including the usually warm regions) spent the last several months in a daily state of “fucking cold!” Nor do we have the time to just “sit” around and watch TV. That is what a man gets to do; a woman has just as much work on her days off as she does her days at the office.

Laundry, cleaning (no, putting your coffee cup in the dishwasher once in 2009 does not equal ‘helping with the cleaning’), household financial maintenance (otherwise known as juggling the chequebook while cooking the books) … all these glorious tasks don’t do themselves. In fact, about the only casual thing we may get to do is connect with family, such as our Mom (because there is no way I’m talking to her like I talk to her when you’re around sitting around hanging on my every word).

Now, of course, a tremendous portion of my rant needs to be taken with the appropriate amount on tongue in cheek. I realize there are many couples who enjoy a lovely balance of equality when it comes to things like household chores and paying the bills … but we seriously have precious little time to play around in our Victoria’s Secret pajamas while you’re bringing home the bacon.

So, just in case you’re left wondering, “What the hell does she really do then?” Here are a few things the author probably meant to include, but didn’t:

  • We call our “BFF” and invite her over for a pillow fight whereby we giggle and laugh like teenage girls until we end up in that awkward moment face-to-face only to surrender to our latent bisexual desires
  • We lounge around on the couch in our perfectly matched bra and panties, chat and giggle on the phone with our BFF who is doing exactly the same thing
  • We spill a little water on the floor in front of the dishwasher and then call the plumber to come and check our pipes
  • We slip into our tiniest white bikini bottoms and tight crop-top white t-shirt and wash the car in the driveway, ensuring we get completely soaked just in time for the handsome neighbour to come home
  • We lounge by the pool in the complete tiniest white bikini and seductively sip on a Long Island Ice Tea while staring intently at the sweaty muscles of the super-hot Spanish pool boy
  • We lounge around in your dress shirt, waiting for you to come home so we can surprise you in it … oh wait, I actually did do that and it back-fired on me … (Andee’s POV Blowjob)

So, yes, about that masturbation thing … absolutely it’s something I do when I’m home alone. It’s also something I do when I have company 😉

Andee     xoxo

Sexy Northern Angel

I Like A Man In Uniform

A few days ago, one of the bloggers I follow on Twitter and through his blog, Sex In Words, posted a daily sex discussion question about having “uniform fantasies.” I replied that I believe quite a few women hold the fantasy of a hot man in a hot uniform doing hot things with her … to which some of you agreed, while a couple others asked about my own – and more importantly, why.

In my own highly-unscientifically proven opinion, I think the idea of a uniform fantasy plays into the submissive side of a woman’s libido – perhaps touching on the evolutionary nature of our role in the history of human development, whereby man was the provider/protector and woman was the reproducer/nurturer. Now, we all know – so don’t trash me – that modern times have brought us a vast change in the gender roles, but some human conditions remain deeply entrenched in the psyche.

But, I believe there is a significant appeal to the idea of a man being in total control, not just of himself and the sexual encounter the fantasies are based around, but in a sense of confidence and unflappable determination to do what is right. The “ideal” of the hero, a man’s man with a delightfully perfect blend of cockiness and kindness; he opens the door for you, but never lets you catch his gaze follow the sway of your hips as you pass. He’s the man who will protect from the “bad boy” but devour you with his eyes (and his tongue) just as quickly.

Bluntly, a man in uniform is never the bad guy, but he is still very much the man.

And, as I read in someone else’s take on the “man in control” fantasy, if you don’t understand that, you’ll never understand why poorly-written drivel like 50 Shades of Grey became so popular. Trust me; it wasn’t for literary excellence and believable character development.

My own fantasies shift between a variety of stages, as I mentioned in an earlier blog about maturing. But for the most part, those uniform fantasies remain consistently steamy in nature, and typical. A man in uniform quickly attracts my attention, more times than not because a uniform makes a man look complete.

While I find this current pop culture state of hipsterism somewhat charming, a man in a cardigan, rolled cuff jeans and a knit-toque in July doesn’t look “put together.” He looks … like he reads GQ for fashion trends of the month.

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A man who slips into his dress uniform, with shining buttons and crisply ironed creases in his pants looks dashing; regardless of what designer fad may be circulating among the millennials this week. He looks “put together” and in control of his image and his reputation. He’s slightly conformist, but holds an air of authority. Equally, a shirtless firefighter, with rippling muscles and wearing only the pants to his bunker suit, is a delightful mental image.

And then there’s the role-play ideals: absolutely, my firefighter fantasy involves the “damsel in distress” scenario, whereby I need some sort of gorgeous man to come to my rescue; while my police officer fantasy tends to be equally typical in its approach that I find myself in some sort of trouble and needing to be creative in how I make restitution for my actions.

In my mind, I can craft the ideal … and play the fantasy at the speed and degree of heat that I want; all in a submissive, “rescue me” state of orgasmic consciousness.

In real life, it’s the same for a man who can wear a tux with confidence. I see a lot of these men at weddings and certain gala events I’m privileged to attend and you can tell they’ve never mastered the “swagger” of wearing the ultimate in men’s style. A tux – unless it’s blue velvet – is a timeless, polished look. If you look awkward, it’s going to show more than you can ever imagine.

Or maybe, you’d relate better in these terms: a man who knows how to carry off a tux with confidence is more likely to get my panties to drop – and probably drop into his tux jacket pocket long before we ever leave for somewhere more intimate, like the coat-check.

But that, my sharp-dressed men, is a completely different fantasy!

Andee     xoxo

Sexy Northern Angel

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