Lunch date

Warning!  Adult sexual content.  You must be of legal age in your country to read this blog.

Since I am single with breast cancer and on anti-depression medication – which affects my libido and ability to orgasm – I am going to blog about sex and fantasy.  A good morning stroll down memory lane with Andrew* made me think about sex.  Don’t proceed if you aren’t here for the joy ride.  If you would rather remember me as a sweet, innocent 50-something.  STOP.

Is sex allowed on the blog?

Andrew and I met online … and came face to face for the first time in a restaurant bar.  I still remember seeing that gorgeous man for the first time.  I was already seated at the bar … looking sharp in a fitted dress, stockings and black patent stilettos.

I had been running for years and was in peak physical condition.  Toned arms.  Graceful but muscular legs.  Slim ankles (which bear unintentional scars from Andrew …) and he adored my tiny feet.  A butt I was proud of thanks to the squats & lifts.  And 36Ds empowering my 5’4″ frame.   I didn’t own a bra that wasn’t a pushup.  And yes … my panties always matched.  Andrew loved my lopsided smile and the passion in my brown eyes.  (ETA:  He says he loves my ass best.)

Andrew and I had texted each other or spoken on the phone for almost two weeks and were finally ready to advance to real life.  We chose to meet at Moxie’s, a restaurant & bar one evening after work.

He walked in … all 6’4″ of him – paused to scan the bar for me – and I leaned over to my left to put myself in his line of vision and smiled.  Andrew is drop dead gorgeous.  A beautifully defined face and jaw … dimples when he smiled and piercing grey eyes … playfully tousled hair.  Suave.  I loved his commanding presence and masculinity.  It made my femininity all tingly.  Picture a tall, muscular and finely chiseled younger Sean Connery.  Andrew was born and raised in England until he was a teenager, then transplanted to Canada.  His accent was a deep, rich blend of both Englishes.

Our eyes locked.  We both smiled.  It only takes you five seconds to know if you want to go to bed with someone.  Decisions made.

The evening was spent laughing and enjoying each other’s company as we became acquainted.  We told dating stories and listed what we wanted in a partner.  We teased and bantered over ahi tuna ceviche and salads paired with a crisp Sauvignon Blanc.

The sexual chemistry was electrifying.

But we were taking it slow … and dating.  We went out for lunches and dinners, we went to the driving range to golf and we went for long walks in the park.

Andrew always treated me with respect, reverence and trust.  I responded by giving all of myself to him.  I submitted my body, my will and my love to him.

Months later, during our lunch hour at Moxies in the middle of the week, we made a habit of playing truth or dare.  We sat side by side in a booth while laughing at some of our truths and thinking up dares.

I excused myself to the ladies room.  Gracefully exited in a short skirt and heels, acknowledging the stares.  Have you been to the washrooms in Moxie’s?  They are private floor to ceiling doors.  And I picked my double dare.

Afternoon sex in the ladies washroom.

I beckoned.  He came.

We snuck down the hall … coast was clear …

It was sparkling clean.  Private … most of the ride!  Up against the door.  Hot.  Breathless.  Minutes.  He held me and never let me go.  My head buried in his shoulder so I wouldn’t cry out.  Someone came in.


And even better?  Was walking through that bar … head up and beaming … and both of us grinning from ear to ear … Andrew behind me and completely satisfied that he put that big, huge, sexy grin on my face.  I’m sure our faces gave it away.

Keeping the fantasy alive,


P.S.  Don’t be jealous or judgy.  Who defines a good girl?  Whose rules do you live by?  I live by mine.  Vive la différence!

Embrace your sensuality and sexuality.  Live it.  Love it.  Be proud of it.  Don’t lose it.  It’s a gift that will slip away …

Bet you never knew you’d get great sex advice on a cancer blog.

*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty!

Read the Fox Blog:  hear what the Fox really has to say

© Lisa Jobson 2017

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