Victoria Hawkins and the joy of socks

We were having a conversation at work the other day about Tantric Sex and it turned out that none of us were quite up to scratch on what it really is. All I knew was that it's a Buddhist thing and that Sting once mentioned it - and the reason I remembered that is apparently it lasts for hours and hours and hours.

We were having a conversation at work the other day about Tantric Sex and it turned out that none of us were quite up to scratch on what it really is. All I knew was that it's a Buddhist thing and that Sting once mentioned it - and the reason I remembered that is apparently it lasts for hours and hours and hours. Gosh.

So what is a girl to do is she doesn't know the answer to something but look it up on the internet. And indeed it is a Buddhist thing and in a nutshell, it's not so much about final goals but a more holistic physical and mental voyage for both partners that involves the works from eating together (meat, fish and honey are recommended) as well as maybe a glass of wine or two, plus bathing together, lighting candles, incense, massage, and well, all the other stuff too.

Well a couple of us decided we'd mention it to our husbands and see what the reaction was. Okay so in the House of Hawkins it went like this. I only got as far as the food course before we hit the first hurdle. Fish. Mr H hates fish.

The second hurdle was the washing bit. Now he's a man of habit and habit has never ever decreed (and we're dating this back decades to good old boarding school days), that you shared a basin, let alone a bath or shower with anyone else. Bathroom business definitely falls into the realms of private ablutions and not even the Great Drought of 1976 has changed him on this one (when, if you recall, the appointed Drought Minister Denis Howell said he'd save water by getting in the bath with his wife).


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Anyway I valiantly carried on talking him through candles - “eugh, how ghastly”; massage - “oh, god not with all that aroma-cooking-oil bloody stuff” and sort of tailed off shortly afterwards feeling that we'd hardly got to the planning stage.

“Ah,” said Mr H, visibly recovering, “don't ask me why but that reminds me, I went to Marks and Spencers today and bought 14 pairs of socks. The best thing of all is I got four pairs free, so I'm a very happy boy.” Suddenly it all became clear, I think he's more into the Joy of Socks.

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