My husband is the perfect British gentleman… at least in public.

He’s outrageously charming and comes across as possibly too polite to engage in sex. With dark hair and bright blue eyes, he looks a lot like Richard Armitage. With a voice made for the theater, he certainly sounds like him. When he finally asked me out, I discovered that the prim and proper facade conceals one of the filthiest humans I’ve ever encountered.

At dinner on that first date, he was the consummate gentleman: pulling out my chair, opening doors, standing when I came back to the table from the bathroom. His manners were impeccable. I felt a little bad at how wildly attracted to him I was — it seemed inappropriate. But just watching him roll his sleeves up to expose his muscled forearms had me rubbing my thighs... Read More