I Think I’ll Begin with a Corset

As an author of Historical Erotic Romance I write about ladies and gentlemen falling in love and falling into bed, onto settees, against walls, atop tables, to the floor, in carriages, gazebos and dark alcoves.

And each time my hero and heroine find themselves about to fall into carnal bliss I find myself falling into a conundrum as I attempt to strip the lady bare properly, both gracefully and grammatically.

Slippers, Gloves, Gown, Petticoats, Corset, Drawers, Stockings and Chemise.

Truly, it is quite an endeavor for a gentleman to get a 19th century lady undressed with any sort of finesse. One that involves plucking buttons, wrestling hooks, untangling laces, untying ribbons, rolling silk and generally pushing, pulling, tugging, shucking and shrugging until the lady finally, finally stands in a pool of satin and lace, starched muslin and whale bone.

It’s enough to make a 19th century gentleman swear off sex forever. Or behave as the consummate cad, the perfect libertine, tossing up skirts and entirely ignoring every other part of a lady’s body but the treasure to be found between her legs.

Sometimes it’s enough to tempt a writer of Historical Erotic Romance to encourage Jack and Simon’s roguish behavior so I don’t have to face all that plucking, wrestling, untangling, untying, rolling, pushing, pulling, tugging, shucking and shrugging either.

Alas, Simon cannot always bend Beatrice over a table and toss up her skirts.

And Olivia would be quite cross if Jack were forever neglecting her pretty bosom.

Slippers, Gloves, Gown, Petticoats, Corset, Drawers, Stockings and Chemise.

I have decided to give them all a try, in one fashion or another, to discover just how truly difficult it was to be stripped bare by my hero.

I think I’ll begin with a corset.