“I think your penis needs to be in my vagina,” Jill said playfully, waking me out of a sound sleep on Sunday morning. “But that’s just my opinion.” Her voice was a whisper, as we were staying with family; it wasn’t her words that roused me but the feel of her hand caressing my chest and her lips gently touching the side of my face as she spoke.

It didn’t take me but a moment to be fully erect, and as Jill’s hand found my hardness I turned onto my shoulder so I could more easily return the favor. My hand began at her full and swelling breasts, my fingers tracing a path along her belly to her thighs, warm and soft. As she stroked me, I teased her for a few moments, goaded by her quiet moans.

As she began to rub her palm along the head of my cock I finally touched her clit. It was just a cursory touch at first, an appetizer for what was to come. I gave her a few circular strokes before slipping my fingers inside her, and continued to excite her pleasure button with my thumb. She whispered something I couldn’t hear and I leaned my head close to hers, all the better to suck on her neck while she repeated herself.

“I need you,” she said. My eagerness to move between her thighs and sate myself with her delicious taste was countered by the intensity of her words. I knew what she wanted, and oral sex wasn’t on the menu that morning. With one leg hanging off the edge of the bed, Jill moved the other one aside and pulled me on top of her. The familiar sensation of her body against mine, the smell of her skin, the feel of her nipples standing erect against my chest all served to turn me on even more than I already was, and I found my way inside easily.

The first thrust made her cry out. It wasn’t the loudest she’d ever moaned, but for six-thirty in the morning in a house full of sleeping people, it was louder than she intended to be. She quickly regained her composure and began to enjoy my movements inside of her, her hands firmly on my ass as she pulled me against her. She rode my thrusts, her hips bucking rapidly against mine as I quickly dipped deep inside of her before withdrawing, then repeating the process.

“Don’t stop,” she said, and we kissed passionately, our respective cases of morning breath apparently cancelling each other out. Her mouth felt like exotic fruit against mine. The taste of her tongue and her lips intensified my thrusts and I realized that if I didn’t slow down it was going to be over quick. My wife, however, had other plans. “Come in me,” she said. “Hurry, I need it so badly.” Her words turned me on, and no amount of baseball-related thoughts was going to stave off orgasm. I tried telling her that I wanted her to come first, but she shushed me with another kiss.

All at once I pulled out, letting the temptation to come pass harmlessly. As I kissed my way up her stomach, grazing over her breasts on the way to her soft white neck, she moaned again. Whether in pleasure or frustration I wasn’t sure. As I nuzzled her neck she whispered, “Why did you stop?”

“I want you to come first,” I said.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll get off in the shower.” The guest bathroom has an adjustible showerhead that rivals our own; I am well aware of my wife’s fondness of masturbating with it. The thought of her holding the cold metal nozzle close to herself while high-pressure jets of warm water cascade against her clit was arousing, and suddenly I was throbbing,

“I want to be there when you do it,” I insisted.

“Then come before anyone wakes up.” This would be tricky, as at seven-fifteen – seven-thirty at the latest – people would start waking up, and it was likely that some of them would need to use the very bathroom my wife was planning on having an orgasm in while I watched. We’re married, they know we have sex, and I’m not entirely sure why I find it weird for Jill’s family to know we’re showering together. I guess it’s just something I need to get over. I quickly maneuvered myself back inside of her, and imagined her crouching down close to the shower floor, letting the showerhead do all the work.

In spite of the very exciting visual in my head, it took me longer than I expected to come. We found our rhythm, and from there it was a pleasurable ride for both of us. When I came, I didn’t come alone.

-Jack

1. I posted a photo to Half-Nekkid Thursday, and not only did I get some comments, but for the first time there was a comment posted from a woman. Guys will drool over anything, but getting a compliment from a woman is a major turn-on.

2. While stopped at a red light with Jack (who was driving), I put some lotion on my legs. After the light had turned green, Jack told me that the guy in the car next to us was mesmerized by what I was doing. Like a lot of women, I suffer from body image issues even though Jack constantly tells me I shouldn’t. Therefore I find it so hot to know that I can occasionally turn another man’s head.

3. On Monday, Jack told me that he got off to this story while he was home alone. I love the idea of him taking care of himself almost as much as I love watching him do it, and the fact that he got turned on by something I wrote (and something we experienced together) made it even more exciting.

4. At breakfast Sunday morning, Jack fed me a strawberry from his plate. The taste and feel of the succulent fruit on my lips, and the smell of his skin as he placed it into my mouth made me want to take him right to bed and have my way with him. Unfortunately it was several hours before that would be possible.

5. Yesterday morning a reader e-mailed me a very erotic story involving one of my favorite fantasies. I didn’t have enough time to read it before leaving for work, but I gave it a quick glance, and the story was on my mind all day long.

Jill’s Sex Quote of the Day: “‘Natural’ is a very dangerous word to use about sexuality … Out society’s notions of normality are completely fake and meta-trendy, since they rely on the changing standards of superstition, religion, Christianity and gender bias to define themselves. Americans, in particular, exhibit very childish reactions to sexual practice that are new to them, much like little kids who are offered a vegetable they haven’t seen before: ‘That’s disgusting!’ ‘But darling, you haven’t even tried it!’ ‘I don’t care, I hate it, I hate it!'” (Susie Bright and Jill Posner, editors, Nothing But the Girl)

-Jill

We try to fill this blog with as much original content as possible. In other words, Jack and I prefer to post a story or a fantasy that we wrote ourselves rather than things we’ve found elsewhere. Obviously we have shared the occasional sex-related article that we found interesting, but our preference is for sexy stories we have written as opposed to sexy stories we have found on the internet or in books.

In October, I posted a story from Nancy Friday’s book Women on Top. This story, like most of the others in the book, is a fantasy sent in to the author, and involves a woman making love to her boyfriend and a very close male friend simultaneously. The story is a long-time favorite of mine, the impetus of many of my best “by myself” orgasms.

I was reminded of another fantasy in the book this week, thanks to a new reader who is in the military. For some reason our conversation (which was actually not all that sexual) reminded me of this story, which I had not read in a few years. The story is told from the perspective of a young woman who served in the navy. Here’s an excerpt:

Needless to say, I was never without a lover while in the navy. (With the odds of two hundred to one when the fleet was in, how could you lose?)

The navy is also where I developed this little quirk I have: I love to fantasize I am being watched when I’m making love or masturbating. It started because of a real experience that was part of my sex life for almost two years. When you live in a barracks with hundreds of other people you learn to take sex where you can get it. Of course it is against the rules to have anyone of the opposite sex in your room after taps but no one cared. It happened all the time.

My lover and I used to sleep on some cushions on the floor of our friend’s room in the men’s barracks. (There were always extra bodies around. Usually friends off the ships.) The usual occupancy of the room was two, but this particular night there were two extras, not counting my lover and I (all male of course). Two were in bed, one on the couch and one on the floor.

After a long night of partying we shut off the lights. Everyone gets into their own beds for the night after taking off their clothes. (Unfortunately I’m slightly night-blind!) I’ve never known a sailor who wears pajamas to sleep in.

Anyway, my lover (Bobby) and I are not really tired. I lie there trying to get to sleep but it’s no use. I reach over to Bobby, who’s on his side with his back to me. I press my tits against his back and reach down to his cock. It’s as hard as a rock. He’s not asleep either. He rolls over and gives me a long, deep kiss. At the same time he runs his hands down to my twat and starts playing with my clit. The room seems hot as we throw off the blanket. We don’t say anything. We just lie there for a minute, stroking and fondling each other.

Bobby moves from my mouth to my tits, sucking in all he can get. He goes from one nipple to the other, running his tongue around it then sucking and biting them when they stand up for him.

He slowly travels down my stomach to my thighs, licking and kissing as he goes. He gets between my eagerly spread legs. I know what’s coming next and I’m so hot I can’t stand it. When it comes to eating pussy, Bobby is the best there is. I call him “the fastest tongue in the West.” I love for him to eat me. I can never get enough of it.

Bobby proceeds to tease me. He licks the inside of each thigh and around my hot mound. I can stand it no longer. I grab his head and press it into my wet pussy. He tongues my clit again and again, pausing just for a second to push his long, hard tongue into my vagina. He goes back to my clit and proceeds to lick, suck and bite it. (That drives me wild!)

While he’s eating me I play with my tits. I pull on my nipples and roll them around. (I can put one in my own mouth if I want. Maybe I’ll do it and let my husband watch

I got totally involved in what Bobby was doing to me and forgot all about the other guys in the room. My breathing got faster. I sighed and moaned and finally screamed with my final shuddering climax.

Before I can cool off Bobby moves up and slips his throbbing cock into my burning pussy. He fucks like he’s never fucked before. He drives me wild with his movements. Maybe he knows something I don’t. The way he’s going you would think he was performing. The light bulb goes on in my head. I distract myself enough to open my eyes and look around. Three of the guys are watching us, the other has his eyes tightly closed but is listening very carefully. I look a little more carefully and find that all of them are enjoying the sight, sounds and smell of me and Bobby so much that they’re beating off.

What a rush of power I felt at that moment – to know that I could do that to so many men at once. To know that they wished it was them I was enjoying so much. Wishing it was their cock in my responsive cunt. It really turned me on.

I went back to the business of fucking my lover, enjoying it more because I knew it was giving pleasure to so many others, too. Finally, as I heard sighs and moans coming from all directions, I had my last climax. It was the best one I can ever remember. My whole body shook. I felt that tingle start at my spine and go throughout my body. I became dizzy and lightheaded. It was wonderful.

Bobby’s orgasm was like none he had ever had before, either. He shook as he unloaded what seemed like gallons of cum. I could feel it filling me up and running down my thighs and the crack of my ass. It felt so good!

So whenever I need a little help climaxing with my husband or I’m masturbating, I imagine I’m back in that time and in that room fucking my brains out with a happy audience. one of these days.)

The switching back and forth from present to past tense can be jarring, but I like this story so much I can’t hold that against it. This one really turns me on. Thank you Nancy Friday!

-Jill

I know you’re expecting me to talk about the not-all-that-amusing practice of adding “in bed” to the end of a Chinese fortune cookie fortune. “You will meet a mysterious stranger” becomes “You will meet a mysterious stranger in bed”, and “You will enjoy great success” becomes “You will enjoy great success in bed”. Been there, done that. Besides, it doesn’t really work with the pictured fortune. “You will be rewarded for your efforts within the month in bed?” That’s kind of a mouthful. And speaking of which…

We were having lunch at a local Chinese restaurant. When we were done eating, the bill and the fortune cookies were brought to the table. Mine was unmemorable, and is long since forgotten. Jill, on the other hand, burst into peals of laughter upon reading hers. When she noticed the curious look on my face she slid the above fortune across the table. After I read it, she told me that she had mis-read it as “You will be rewarded for your efforts with your mouth.”

-Jack

I walk into the garage from the house, gently shutting the door behind me. The concrete is cold beneath my feet, and I wish I had put on my slippers. My robe hangs open, revealing my body beneath to nobody at all. As the Sunday morning sunlight shines through the window, I walk around my car and open the back door on the passenger’s side. I drop my robe to the floor and climb into the car, and settle onto the soft seats on my hands and knees.

I love being in this position. Even though the garage is cold and the frigid morning air stings a little, it turns me on. For one thing, doggy style is one of my favorite positions. The thought of being filled by a man I can’t see is so exciting. The animal passion of being fucked, hands holding my hips tightly, cock pounding me, drops of sweat dripping from his forehead onto the small of my back…all of these things arouse me about the position I’m in.

Most of all, I’m turned on by the idea of Jack coming into the garage and finding me like this. The car door is open, and I’m already wet. I can’t make it any easier for him than this. I even reach back and hold myself open. My touch feels good, and I rub my lips softly, then move to my clit. As I caress myself I imagine Jack crouching down behind me, savoring me with his hot tongue, and tracing the movements of my hand with his own.

My heart moves as quickly as my fingers do. My brain churns with the dirtiest scenarios I can imagine, and I can imagine a lot. I want to call out to Jack, but I can’t make words. I want to go back into the house, wake him up, and lead him into the garage so we can have our way with each other, but there’s no way I’m going to stop now. I’m close.

In a minute I am coming, and a minute later it’s over. As my heartbeat slows, I lie down on my stomach, letting my legs hang lazily out of the car door. For a minute, I actually fall asleep – I am that relaxed. Then I go back inside, and join Jack in bed.

-Jill

Virtually everyone knows the thrill of fooling around in the backseat of a car. As teenagers and young adults, privacy comes at a premium. When one is still living with one’s parents, one must improvise. Typically this improvisation comes in the form of driving to a secluded area – one of the parking lots at the junior college I attended had a spot that worked great when I was nineteen – and moving to the backseat. I’ll wager that many of us enjoyed some of our first sexual exploration with another person in this very manner.

It’s much easier when we’re older and leave the proverbial nest. We may live in apartments, or own our own homes. Thus, such illicit activity becomes unnecessary as we enjoy the benefits of privacy. But for some of us, Jill and I included, having sex in the back seat of a car remains a huge turn-on. The reasons for this are many, and paramount amongst them are the thrill of being naked (and vulnerable) in a semi-public setting and the risk that comes with the possibility of discovery; the notion of varying the routine by doing something unusual (and for us, having sex in a car when we have the option of having sex on a much more comfortable bed is unusual); and the nostalgia that comes with remembering our earlier sexual exploits in the backseat of a car (i.e. with other people).

When we first started dating, Jill lived in a condominium with an underground garage. We had been going out for a short while – perhaps two or three months – when we found ourselves returning home from a party thrown by some friends. We were both a little tipsy as Jill pulled into her parking space, and I know I wasn’t the only one with sex on the brain. She was wearing a black skirt that showed off a generous portion of her thigh, and a top that accentuated her breasts. Needless to say I had been thinking of taking these articles off of her all night.

As she parked the car, I unbuckled my seat belt and moved to open the car door. “Wait,” she said, and unbuckled her own seat belt. Before I knew it, she was unbuckling my other belt as well, and I barely had time to process what was happening before she had taken me into her mouth. I was instantly erect. I felt the familiar sensation of her hot lips sliding up and down my length, her tongue lapping at me with intense strokes, and in the dim light of the garage I watched her head bobbing up and down.

Jill didn’t let me get too hot. Clearly she had other plans beyond giving me a blowjob. She got out of the car, led me to the back seat, and lay down. I stood outside the open door, my pants still open, as she raised her back off the seat. She gathered up her skirt, showing off a pair of diaphanous black panties. Spreading her legs, she placed her right foot atop the seat near the car’s rear window, and her left she hooked around the front-passenger seat. I wasted no time in stripping her of her panties and dropped them on the floor of the backseat.

Closing the car door behind me, I knelt down on the seat and began to touch her thighs. Following my hands with my mouth, I kissed from her heels up to her knees.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “Get inside me!”

“I want to taste you,” I said, and ignored her protests. With my back bent into a very unnatural position, I leaned close and began to go down on her. She was very wet, her body perfumed with the scent of her desire. She tasted sweet as well, and I slipped two fingers inside her to augment the work my mouth was doing. Lapping at the source of her moisture, I began to thrust my tongue into her, her hips rising up to meet each lick. The sound of her breathing goaded me forward and she had her first orgasm quickly. It was a small one, however, and she wanted more.

“Why don’t you sit down?” she suggested. I did as I was told, and she yanked my pants down, leaving them bunched up at my ankles. Then she straddled me, her legs holding me down as my cock found its way inside her. She gasped. “You’re so deep,” she said breathlessly, and began to ride me, her hands firmly grasping my shoulders. We kissed briefly, but passionately, and I felt her legs tightening around my own as our bodies undulated together. I moved my mouth to her neck, sucking gently, and then started to unbutton her blouse. The bra she wore underneath matched the panties I had earlier discarded, and I pulled the cups aside, setting loose her breasts. As I sucked one of her quickly-stiffening nipples, her hands moved to the back of my head, pulling my mouth onto her and forcing me to draw more of her breast inside.

“I’m coming,” she said. It was barely a whisper. I held her ass in my hands as she bounced rapidly on top of me, her forcefulness pushing me to the brink of my own climax. Her moans turned me on even more than I already was, and she stifled herself by burying her face in my neck and shoulder. As she surfed the wave that was her orgasm, I could feel her interior stimulating me until I, too, was coming.

As I filled her, she threw her head back and moaned long and loud, no longer caring who heard. Once my orgasm had passed, she rose off of me and leaned over the front seat in search of some tissue or a napkin with which to clean us off. Moments later we were spotless save for sweat, completely dressed (with the exception of Jill’s panties, which remained forgotten in the backseat), and riding the elevator up to Jill’s condo.

-Jack

It’s sweltering in our hotel room, even with air conditioning on. You lie on your stomach, your face pressed against a cool cotton pillowcase. The lamp on our nightstand casts bright light across the bed, illuminating the scene of our lovemaking finished only moments ago. You are naked, a white bedsheet draped clumsily over your legs, doing little to cover you as you sleep. Your body is shiny with perspiration, a salty sheen of sweat clinging to your face, your back and shoulders. I can smell your scent in the air and it makes me think of sex. The sight of your body excites me, and even though I have just had you, I want you again.

I sit on the edge of the bed, listening to nothing at all. I can’t even hear the air conditioner. It’s still so hot that I wonder if it is even working. The sticky heat of the night is everywhere. I know I would be sweaty even if it were the middle of winter, you are that good. I remember the first time we stayed in a hotel together, your birthday weekend the year we met. I remember the excitement of hanging the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and not leaving our room, or even getting dressed, until it was time to check out. I remember realizing that I had never had as good a lover as you in my life. You were as good tonight as you were that weekend.

I lean over and touch your face, feeling your breath on my hand. It’s hot, but so reassuring. You sleep peacefully, and I am afraid of waking you. As I get up from the bed, I see myself in the mirror that hangs near the bathroom door. Like you, I am naked, soaked with sweat, my eyelids heavy and ready for sleep. I think back a few moments, to you telling me how sexy I am, how much you desire me, how everything I do turns you on. Your words are convincing, and in spite of my disheveled state, you make me believe them.

I come around the bed and turn off the lamp, then find my way back to my side in the dark, and lay down beside you. I love you so much.

Note that there is no signature at the end of this entry. It was in fact written by one of us, but under different circumstances it could very easily have been written by the other.

As the title suggests, this story was inspired by a dream I had recently. I decided to leave it very vague and not specify the identities of the two men. Maybe one is Jack, or maybe not. I will leave their identities to your imagination.

I walk into the room to find you both sitting on adjacent sofas. As I approach, I begin to pull up my skirt, gathering it at my waist. As it bunches up, it is plain to see that I am not wearing panties. I know that you are aroused to see me like this, and your excitement turns me on. I kneel down before him, holding my skirt so I don’t scuff it up. The floor is cold on my knees, and as I settle into my position I begin to massage his thighs through his jeans. He moans with anticipation, and after a moment of this exquisite torture he begins to unbuckle his belt.

Seeing no reason to rush things, I push his hands away gently. Finished caressing his legs, I move on to the place where they meet. He is already hard, that is plain to see. I hope you are too, but with my back to you, I can’t say for sure. I rub him with the palms of my hands, and imagine doing the same to you as well. I imagine feeling you in my warm, tight grasp. I imagine feeling you throb. I imagine holding your shaft with one hand and your balls with the other, as I take your moist, purple head between my lips. As I think these thoughts, I lower my mouth onto his erection, mouthing it through the denim, placing sweet kisses all over it. I can feel him buck against me in response.

He moans again, the sound an unspoken plea to take the next step. But I don’t. Instead I continue playing with him, using both my mouth and my hands to pleasure him. I know he likes it. He is unable to hide his desire from me, but I am still going to make him wait for relief. I kiss along his inner thighs while petting him all over, feeling him growing even harder under my touch. Behind me, I can hear you shifting on the sofa. I wonder if you would like a closer look.

I work my hand under his shirt and play with his nipples. With my other hand, I knead his hardness, anticipating his taste in my mouth. He throws his head back against the couch and stifles another moan, undoubtedly wondering what he did to deserve such agony. For a moment I feel merciful and I am tempted to release him, but I quickly reconsider. I am trying to put on a good show after all. I hear your belt buckle clatter to the floor along with your pants, and I realize I am succeeding. At this point it is only fair that I stop teasing him and really get to work, so together he and I open his jeans, letting his very hard, very thick cock spring forth.

Before long his jeans are all the way down, and I am pulling them off. I lick my lips lasciviously as I gaze upon him, swollen and throbbing with desire. At long last I part my lips and take him into my mouth. My head swims with excitement as his scent and his taste engulf me. As I lick him all over, I can hear his rapid breaths and I know that I am doing a good job. At the same time, I can also hear your breaths, and I don’t need to turn around to know exactly what you are doing. It excites me to know that you are so turned on by our show that you are masturbating. It turns me on to think that you like watching what I am doing, maybe enough to wish that you were on the receiving end, enjoying the efforts of my mouth and my tongue.

I quickly take him into my throat, and polish his smooth shaft with my tongue as I slide my lips back up to the tip of his head. My hands follow my mouth one after the other, stroking him from the base up to the tip as my tongue plays havoc over his frenulum and the ridge where head meets shaft. I begin to stroke him ever faster, eager for his climax. I wonder where he would like to come. At the same time I hear you breathing harder, and I hear the sounds of you pleasuring yourself. I hope you’ll come too. Just to make sure, I pull my skirt up to my hips, revealing a firm, shapely ass, and more. I reach back and spread myself open, hoping that this will help push you over the edge.

At the same time, I take his cock as deep as it can go, and his body trembles. His orgasm is imminent. Your moans tell me that yours is too. I feel you get up from the couch and my heart leaps as I anticipate your hardness filling me. I suck harder, faster, deeper, tasting him as he explodes. You stand over me, and I wonder what you’re waiting for. In an instant you are bathing my ass with your sticky warmth, and I sigh contentedly. Then I excuse myself to the shower.

-Jill

To break up the monotony, we exited the highway and stopped at a small twenty-four hour diner. We both ordered Cokes, the better to keep us awake for the rest of our drive, and looked through the menu. While we waited for the waitress to bring our drinks, I excused myself to the ladies’ room.

When I returned to my seat, I opened my purse and handed you a small remote control. Your jaw dropped. You knew right away that I’d gone to the ladies’ room to put in my bullet. I could feel it inside me, and I wondered what was taking you so long. As the realization hit you, the look on your face betrayed your excitement, and you thumbed the button on the remote. The small egg-shaped bullet began to vibrate, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body.

The toy’s steady buzz was nice, but your excitement made it even better. You spent the next few minutes with your finger on the remote, switching it on and off in order to tease me. Finally I leaned across the table and whispered to you, telling you about my fantasy. You were intrigued, and wanted to hear more. I told you that I had always fantasized about having an orgasm in a public place, such as a restaurant. You always comply with my sexual whims and desires. It’s one of the things I love about you.

As you sat back to enjoy the show, the waitress came over to take our order. Without switching off the remote control, we both ordered quickly, then got back to the matter at hand. You left the toy running for awhile, but when our dinner came, you spent the meal teasing me, letting it run long enough for my climax to sneak up on me, then turning it off. I could barely concentrate on my meal.

We finished with dinner, paid the check, and hurried back to the car, my unfulfilled fantasy long forgotten. It was just as well. All I wanted to do was get off, and I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be quiet about it. Once I was in the car, I had my skirt hiked up and my panties down in an instant. I reclined my seat and began playing between my legs. I put one foot up on the dashboard and when you glanced over at me you could see that I had two fingers inside me, and the bullet resting on my clit.

As you teased me with the remote, I finger-fucked myself until I was moaning with pleasure. My breath came in gasps as my orgasm neared. Soon my body was undulating on the car seat, my hips bucking up and down rapidly. I gave a loud cry as I finally came.

I collapsed against the seat, and slowly regained control of my breathing. “Ready for your turn?” I asked. You moved the driver’s seat back a bit, and we both scrambled to open your pants and get them down. As you raised your hips off the seat, I pulled down your shorts, delighted to see your cock, already standing up at full attention.

I wrapped one hand around your length. With my other hand I took the remote from you. You were surprised to feel the bullet buzzing against your frenulum as I leaned over to take you in my mouth. I moved the toy down to your balls, sucking you deeper, then backing away just as you began to throb.

You moaned, and begged me not to stop. I lapped at the head of your cock as if it were a popsicle. “Tell me when you’re close,” I said.

“I’m close.” I began to stroke you against my lips as you erupted against my cheek. I felt your warmth against my lips and on my chin, and I tried not to waste a drop. You sighed, satisfied by my efforts, and once I had cleaned you off you pulled your pants back up and started the car.

-Jill

I thought this was another interesting read, and should put things into perspective. Throughout my life, I have occasionally purchased lingerie for women with whom I have been involved. Although I am confident and generally not embarrassed in such a situation, it’s still not the easiest thing in the world to shop for. Determining the right size, selecting a style she’ll like, and trying to keep from getting wood while discussing bras and panties with frequently-attractive salesladies – all of these potentially make lingerie shopping difficult for men. The ladies have it so much easier. Well, at least they do in America.

Saudi women to spurn lingerie shops over salesmen

By Donna Abu-Nasr – Mar 25, 2009

RIYADH, Saudi Arabia (AP) — Before her wedding last year, Huda Batterjee went abroad to buy her bridal lingerie — she just couldn’t bear the humiliation of discussing her most intimate apparel with a man. She had little choice: there are almost no saleswomen in Saudi Arabia. Now a group of Saudi women — sick of having to deal with male sales staff when buying bras or panties, not to mention frilly negligees or thongs — have launched a campaign this week to boycott lingerie stores until they employ women.

It’s an irony of the kingdom’s strict segregation of the sexes. Only men are employed as sales staff to keep women from having to deal with male customers or work around men.

But in lingerie stores, that means men are talking to women about bras or thongs, looking them up and down to determine their cup sizes, even rubbing the underwear to show how stains can be washed out.

The result is mortifying for everyone involved — shoppers, salesmen, even the male relatives who accompany the women.

“When I buy underwear in Saudi, some salesmen say, ‘This is not the right size for you,'” said Batterjee. “You feel almost taken advantage of. Why is he looking at me in this way?”

So for her wedding trousseau, the 26-year-old went to neighboring Dubai to shop. She now lives in Virginia with her husband.

Heba al-Akki, a businesswoman who supports the boycott, said when she shops for underwear, “I go to a store, pick this, this and that and leave quickly. It’s as if I’m buying illegal stuff.”

It’s not easy on the salesmen either.

At one lingerie boutique in a Riyadh mall Wednesday, salesmen blushed when asked about their jobs. All said they back the campaign to hire female sales staff.

“Even in such open regions as the U.S. and Europe, men do not sell underwear to women,” said store manager Husam al-Mutayim, a 27-year-old Egyptian. “I don’t let any of my female relatives buy underwear from men. It’s just too embarrassing.”

Mannequins — headless in keeping with a ban on realistic depictions of women — were displayed in the shop window dressed in modest pajamas. Inside, racks held an array of colorful bras, lacy panties and sexy nighties — along with more day-to-day undergarments.

Under Saudi Arabia’s strict interpretation of Islamic law, women are required to cover themselves head-to-toe in black robes in public. But in the privacy of their own homes — and bedrooms — they can wear whatever they want, and sexy undergarments are popular.

But buying them is another story. Fitting rooms are banned in the kingdom — the idea of a woman undressing in a public place with men just outside is unthinkable. So a woman is never sure she has chosen the right size until she gets it home.

“I have bras with sizes ranging from 32 to 38 because I can’t get to try them on,” said Modie Batterjee, Huda’s sister and one of the boycott organizers.

Even male relatives get dragged into the embarrassment. Women are allowed to shop without a male relative, but husbands or brothers sometimes insist on coming along — or the women want them there — to ensure salesmen stay respectful.

Modie Batterjee recalls how her husband fled a lingerie store because he could not bear to hear her explain to a salesman that she wanted high-waisted underwear to hold in her tummy after their daughter’s birth.

The boycott was launched on Tuesday by about 50 women who gathered in the Red Sea port of Jiddah at the Al-Bidaya Breast-feeding Resource and Women’s Awareness Center, which is run by Modie Batterjee.

The aim is to push for implementation of a law that has been on the books since 2006 which says only female staff can be employed in women’s apparel stores.

The law has never been put into effect, partly due to hard-liners in the religious establishment who oppose employing women in mixed environments like malls, where religious police are always on the lookout to keep men and women from interacting.

Hiring women would also deprive men of jobs in a country where more than 10 percent of men are unemployed.

“We are raising awareness and calling for the implementation of the law,” said Reem Asaad, a finance lecturer at Dar al-Hikma Women’s College in Jiddah, who supports the boycott.

The campaign calls on women to shop at the country’s few women-only lingerie stores. Usually stand-alone boutiques or located in malls that have women-only sections, these shops have no windows to ensure passing men cannot look in — and giving women the freedom to actually try things on.

How much impact the boycott call will have is unclear. Almost 1,700 people signed an online petition posted by Asaad on the social networking Web site Facebook. A few Saudi papers have written about it, but the campaign depends mostly on word of mouth.

Not all women support the idea. At the Riyadh lingerie shop on Wednesday, one woman — only her eyes visible through the black veil covering her face — said she is suspicious of women-only lingerie shops.

“Bad things happen there,” she said.

What might that be?

Women can sneak a picture of you changing with their mobile phones, she replied and refused to give her name.

I think that’s enough articles for awhile. Stay tuned for something (hopefully) a bit more stimulating very soon.

-Jack