The Secret Sex Life of a Single Mom by Delaine Moore Page B

to say no. I should be spending that time at home with my daughter and cleaning the house, as per usual. Bah! Live a little, Delaine , I suddenly thought. The floors could wait and Jenna could have a playdate at her friend’s house.
    An hour later, Hali and I met in front of Miss Chiff’s Closet. I could tell by the mannequins in the window that this wasn’t Victoria’s Secret: On display were leather dresses and whips, a sexy maid costume, and high heels that even Barbie would gape at.
    Problem was, the front doors were locked. The sign said it opened at 10:00 AM, and it was already ten after. Since Teah was asleep in her car seat and there was a coffee shop close by, we decided to grab a quick tea.
    “So I’m a little surprised at this,” I said, after we’d settled in at a table with steaming mugs. “What made you want to check this place out?”
    Hali smiled without an ounce of timidity, and shrugged. “I just checked out their website and it seemed very empowering to women, like it caters to the woman’s imagination and pleasure, not just the guy’s. And the lingerie is higher-end, too.” Hali paused
to take a sip of her tea, while I casually eyeballed the café to see if anyone might be listening in; the only other patron, a woman in a business suit and glasses, appeared fully engrossed in her book. I leaned over the table eagerly, prodding her. “Well what else?”
    She smiled and leaned in to, dropping her voice a bit. “They also offer stripping classes for women—not professional stripping classes, just techniques on how to strip for your man,” she said, adding with a mischievous grin, “I might take a class.”
    I smiled back. I was half in awe of this new side of her. All these years, I’d viewed her as reserved, very prim and proper. She’d always kept her hair cut short, and her dress style was conservative but elegant, mainly because of her male-dominated career in financial planning. I’d always felt like a bit of a flower child next to her. Certainly, I could dress up when called for, but day in, day out, I was a faded blue jeans, T-shirt, and handmade jewelry kind of girl. Side by side, we were like Sheryl Crow and the Prime Minister’s wife.
    Now as I looked at her across the table, with her sexy, longer hairstyle and more fashionable attire, I realized her blossoming sexuality was transforming her from the inside out. Even though her life was in chaos, I could sense a new power about her.
    “Are you planning to strip for Josh?” I asked.
    “No!” she replied firmly. “There’s no doubt that he helps me feel good about my body. But this is more about my sexuality. I want to explore it. Maybe it’s because I’m approaching forty, or maybe it’s because of what I’ve been through.” She sat back and took another sip of tea. “I know the sex is exciting right now because it’s with someone new. But I really think it’s more than that. I’m trying new things in bed, I’m becoming less inhibited, I want to learn how to be a better lover—not for them, but for me.”
    She leaned forward and lowered her voice even more. “All these years, I’ve never enjoyed giving blow jobs—not because I
hated it, but because I didn’t think I was any good at it. I was talking to Patty the other day, and she said she found a video online that gives step-by-step instructions on how to give the best blow job. She said it was amazing and even she had being doing things wrong.”
    “So what are these steps?” I asked. Surely I had room for improvement, too.
    Suddenly, for a flash of second, I thought of being down on my knees in front of Robert. Planning my day. Willing him to hurry up with my thoughts and hands. What if that scenario presented itself in a future relationship? Once the newness wore off, would I end up in the exact same position emotionally as I was before?
    I shook off the thoughts and tuned in closely as Hali began discreetly explaining and demonstrating blow job