Sexy, Seductive and Stuck
JOSSIE EVANS: Week 1
A year is plenty of time to accomplish all sorts of feats: babies are brewed and born, birthdays are bashed and balls drop – there are no synonym beginning with ‘b’ for that one.
But the one year mark in a relationship can be far less explosive. With the ticking of time the beast is tamed, the storm is weathered and libido is tethered. Gone are the sleepless nights and wasted days in bed as that mysterious land has been found, explored and thoroughly conquered. Instead the two of you settle down each night to watch Orange Is the New Black for the sixth time and reminisce how that saucy chapel scene was once reenacted in your very own college chapel.
At the end of last term I saw this happening in my longest relationship to date. It was then that I decided to take action. I would not be tamed, weathered or tethered. I would challenge this assumption and fight for a sex life with gumption. With this in mind I found myself sneaking around the Debenhams lingerie sale. Short of wearing a balaclava I could do no more to disguise my identity. A woolly hat and scarf left just enough space for my eyes, wide in wonder, to gaze at the treasures of grown up underwear.
At last I found the chosen one and ignoring the blushing shop assistant I waltzed into the dressing room buoyed up on my new found sexual liberation.
I laughed at the sight of my ancient Marks & Spencer briefs in the mirror, they had done me proud but today was the start of a new era. Drawn in by the intricate lace, the fancy font and the sexy model I jumped into the ‘Sculpted Shaping: Perfect Shaping Body.’
But alas my boobs had ballooned on mince pies and I found myself at the mercy of this temptress’s “firm control,” she was too much for me and far from feeling “sculpted” I realised I was scuppered. Dread overwhelmed me as panicked perspiration drowned me. I was stuck, held hostage by a Sculpted Shaping: Perfect Shaping Body.
Needless to say I was not looking like the Nigella Lawson doppleganger on the packaging.
In my attempts to break free of the fast hold on me I did indeed get a workout. So in that sense the promise was kept. I probably lost quite a few inches as I ran, jumped and belly danced around the changing room in an attempt to free myself from her vice like grip. Talcum powder was much needed. Or perhaps Vaseline. But neither was to hand. After a lengthy ordeal I finally broke free. I emerged from the lace strewn depths thoroughly disillusioned with sexy lingerie.
Still in a daze I bought my only alternative – the corseted basque.
Am I converted to the idea of sexy lingerie? No.
Did it result in a night of wildly passionate love making? Yes. Was the corseted basque solely responsible for stoking the fire of our one year burning desire? No.
To conclude you should keep hold of your white cotton briefs and if you do venture into the abyss, you have been warned.