In Flagrante Delicto

In flagrante delicto—now there’s a great word for being caught red-handed, or it’s more common usage: sex. Conjures up images for me, images of a more sensual than sexual nature: a beautiful woman dancing barefoot under the moonlight while being fed an oozing chocolate éclair by someone wrapped in champagne silk. I also picture a woman with long dark hair standing in a window, her red silk slip slithering to the ground like a serpent; le serpent rouge. But I can also picture an adorable little flag twirler wearing one of those darling majorette outfits—like a bathing suit with a cheerleading skirt attached, all sparkly and sassy, tassels on her ankle boots, twirling her flags while strutting and marching, her hair in a sparkly beehive. And I also imagine lying on a table while some beautiful person fills my mouth with strawberries, champagne, whipped cream, melted chocolate, cream puffs—delicto, delectable, delicious. Oh yes, nightblooming jasmine would be swirling around me, caressing me, making it impossible to think clearly, everything colored by its intoxicating smell.

Well, three little words can obviously create quite a bit of magic for me. And it’s wonderful, because this Sunday I’m going to be a sex teacher. Well, not exactly a “sex” teacher, but for years my friends have been telling me I should teach a class on sensuality, romance, orgasmic delight. Well, I’m finally doing it. And so I’ve combined two of my favorite things: belly dance and sex. I saw an ad for a book called “Yoga for Better Sex.” I immediately combed the article for ways to wow my husband in bed—it’s one of my favorite points of research—and as I studied the different positions, I thought belly dance would be an even better way to help people improve their sex lives.

And there, the concept was born. I put out the word and the line formed.
Now I just have to decide what exactly I’m going to teach…

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