I tightened the belt around my waist, and turned so I could see my pencil skirt-wrapped arse in the mirror. I was pleased by how tightly the material clung to my bum, whilst accentuating my hips. I shifted my weight and undid the top buttons of the blouse, admiring my cleavage. Then my brief moment of narcissism was interrupted by the sales assistant reappearing at the curtain.

‘Any good?’ she asked.

I shrugged. ‘It’s a nice combo – and it looks great - but it’s not really what I’m looking for right now.’

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Think ‘‘Slutty Secretary’’ and you’ve got it.’

She laughed. ‘You don’t like that?’

‘I’m looking for something a little more sophisticated, yet still sexy; not something that will scream, “bend me over the desk and take me hard” – that’s not the image I want to project.’

‘I see’, she replied, and waited for me to hand her the skirt, blouse and belt, before she wandered off.

I put my ‘‘Not Really Giving A Shit Because All My Clothes Are In The Washing Machine’’ trousers back on and slipped my shirt above my head. As I was looping the buttons over my bust, the sales assistant returned, poking her head around the curtain once again.

‘Um, that book you’ve done, does it have tips in it and stuff?’

‘Tips?’

‘You know, sex tips…’

‘Well,’ I replied, carefully, ‘I’m no expert, and it’s mostly about my own personal sex life, but yeah, I suppose there are a few pointers in it. They are very graphic though…’

She blushed. ‘I’m a grown up: I can cope with graphic. Would you give me some advice?’

‘That depends: what do you want to know?’

She blushed an even deeper shade of red. ‘Well… um… it’s just… my boyfriend, he likes to talk dirty an’ that, and I’m not really into it; I feel embarrassed.’

‘I know what you mean’ I reassured her, whilst thinking that when in bed, I regularly whisper to a lover just how much I want their ‘‘hard cock inside me’’, and how I need them to, ‘‘fuck me now, please, oh god please, I need it.’’ Somehow I didn’t think she was of the same mindset, so I changed my tack:

‘Well, what do you like to do?’ I asked her, gently.

Her face remained crimson. ‘I like the loving stuff: cuddling, kissing, him stroking me. I don’t like doing “doggy”: god I hate that!’

‘Why’s that?’ I said, soft as I could.

‘It’s so impersonal, ugh!’ she exclaimed.

I nodded and tried to connect with her discomfort. ‘Yes, it’s difficult when they’re behind you and you don’t get to see their face as you have sex’.

‘Exactly!’ She smiled at me, relaxing a little.

I smiled back at her and remembered how at her age – early twenties – I disliked “doggy” too: it made me feel so distanced from a lover, so remote from what was going on. It took me years to realise how I could enjoy the position: that instead of disconnecting, it could actually make the bond with a lover stronger; that with his fingers between my legs and a firm grip on my hips, penetration would be the link that joined us. Plus of course, upon discovering that my g-spot would get continually rubbed by a guy fucking me from behind, it was then only natural that I would come (quite literally) to enjoy the position.

I looked at her and wondered how much detail I should go into, and, also, whether I wanted to divulge to a complete stranger – face to face – the sexual awakenings I had in my twenties. I decided to be as subtle as I could:

‘It can be hard getting the balance right between what one person, and another, prefers in sex’ I stated, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. ‘Personally I have always found that to get what I want in bed, timing is everything.’

‘Timing?’

‘Yes. One tip I could recommend is that if you want to make suggestions about sex to your lover, you do it at the same time as you’re pleasuring him.’ I lowered my voice a touch. ‘Do you mind if I am explicit here?’

She nodded. ‘Go ahead.’

‘You could, for example, be sucking his cock. Whilst he’s in the throes of pleasure, look up at him and then tell him that there’s something you really want to do, and that doing it would really turn you on.’

‘Like?’

‘Well, like the intimate stuff you said you prefer. When you’ve got his cock in your mouth and he’s enjoying it, he’s going to be far more receptive to trying out other things – even if he doesn’t normally enjoy them. This is because he’ll associate the idea you’re putting forwards, with the pleasure he’s receiving, and with that connection, he’ll then be more willing to try it out.’

‘Really?’

‘Yup. And, in return, you could suggest to him that if there’s something he would really like to do, you’d be willing to try that out too. If you take the initiative and talk to him about what you want in bed, whilst you’re in bed, I’ll bet that he’ll respond positively.‘

She grinned at me. ‘So I should ask him to do more sensual things, like massaging me and stuff, whilst I am giving him a blow-job…’

I smiled back at her. ‘Exactly. It’s always worked for me. Go for it.’

‘I will! That’s a really good idea, thank you.’

I picked up my handbag and we made our way to the front of the shop. As I approached the exit, she called out to me:

‘I want to buy your book! What’s it called?’

It was my turn to blush. ‘Um, Girl With A One-Track Mind’. I felt self-conscious suddenly and tried to leave the shop.

‘Hey!’ she hollered, preventing my escape. ‘Don’t forget to come back!’

I turned to face her. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’ll be buying that outfit, but thank you.’

‘No, I didn’t mean that! I want you to come back so that you can sign my book!’

‘Oh, of course… Um, OK then.’

She waved at me as I stepped out the door and I disappeared into the throng of shoppers filling the high street, pondering as I did so, how surreal my life has become: I never thought I’d be suggesting sex tips to complete strangers - especially face-to-face.