Here Comes the Sun, Doo doo do doo!

Hello, lovers and dreamers!  It’s been a beautiful month (plus a bit) of curious weather, whirlwind travel, testing of new offerings and much, much, more!  (And pictures!)


First things first: I want to send out my utmost thank yous to those who made my birthday last month (March 20th, if anyone was curious) so very special!  I am continually set upon with waves of gratitude and joy that so many of you special lovers took time out of your day to find something perfect for me!


I need your help, though, loves.  I received a few gifts that did NOT come with any sort of note or tag letting me know who the crafty sender was.  Lately I’ve noticed that Amazon is a little laissez-faire  with actually LISTING the “heart felt note” that some people choose to type in.  If it isn’t wrapped as a gift (and thus, comes with a separate pre-printed card) sometimes there isn’t anything on the purchase order except for a tracking number and returns code.  So!  If you were kind enough to send me a gift and I didn’t send you a proper thank you, please, please, please send me a note with what you sent so I can thank you properly!  Those who sent me gifts of clothing or sexy under clothing can be expecting pictures soon!


I spent my birthday in the City of Roses, Portland!  I attended an alternative sexualities convention and had just a lovely time.  I watched maybe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen spend 90 minutes on the art of the hand job… and let me just say that her volunteer seemed to be, at once, the luckiest man alive AND the most tortured, as she was quite insistent that though orgasm is a wonderful “finishing move” (hah!) her male companion wouldn’t have been able to “produce” another proper specimen of erection in the time frame for her next class… so that poor man was teased and denied for THREE straight classes, with an hour in between all of them to (I imagine) ice his poor boys!  Though I bow to her obvious skill and experience I can’t say I fully agreed with that particular point!


After a relaxing and informative weekend in Portland, I was able to squeeze in maybe an afternoon or two of fun before I flew out to Paradise on Earth, Kauai, Hawaii!  I am already planning my return trip, I enjoyed myself so well.  This time I believe I’ll go in the summer; less bugs, (slightly) less rain, and the seas are calmer so I can hopefully do some kayaking.  I went with mutual friends, and sadly there weren’t any “saucy” pictures taken (if you all are truly dying to see me covered in Kauai red clay mud and sweating through my 30lbs pack, I can post one… but why break the fantasy I create just for you?)  I hiked up and down Waimea Canyon and the Na Pali Coast.  I ran naked on Secret Beach and even tried my hand at wave womping on Kaulalau Beach.  I made friends with wild (grumpy) goats, and swam with sea turtles.  It was truly a magical place, and even though I had to get air lifted out of Kaulalau Beach (nerve injury flared up, I wasn’t able to hike the 11 miles back out.  Mind you that’s a 5,000 ft elevation change, too) I deem that vacation a success of the highest order.  And I MUST go back (this time to take sexy, nude, sunset pictures.  Because obviously I need to)


I’ve been spending the past week recooperating and re acclimating to the PNW, and I am truly happy to be back home.  As much as Paradise is… well… paradise, I really did miss my chilly nights, rain that’s actually cold, and feeling dry for once.  It did allow me to work on my most recent photo shoot down in Gig Harbor, and here are some shots from that.  See my website for a bit of update and polish, with a new gallery slide show feature that I don’t know if I like enough to keep.  Let me know!


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Ha!  Did you think I was talking about the size of a man’s tackle? Not so, silly dears!  Confidentially, I’ve NEVER met a set of twig and berries that I didn’t like.  I’m talking, of course, about condom sizing.

Did you know that condoms come in different sizes?  And I’m not just talking about “normal” and “magnum”, either.  Condom manufacturers diligently test, measure, and I guess focus group test their condoms, and not all condoms are created equally.  Condoms vary in base width, tip width, length and thickness, sometimes greatly and sometimes minutely.  Since the biggest complaint I hear about condoms are “I don’t feel anything”, followed closely by “they are way too tight/loose/baggy/chafing” I thought it was high time I look into the matter, to hopefully shed some (red) light onto the subject.

(This is a note to say that I’ll only be looking at condoms available in the US.  I’ve found out that Europe has 93 different sizes of condoms!  I’ll bring back one of their sample packs when I go to Europe this summer!)

So, let’s begin!

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Hey Pretty, Do You Wanna Take a Ride with Me, Through My World?

Greetings and salutations my lovers, dreamers, lovely ladies and gorgeous gentlemen!  It’s been an age, so let’s get to the updates of the whirlwind I call Magdalene’s Life!


I horrid with chronological time, so I’ll start from now and back up to the last time we spoke.


Did everyone enjoy the snow?  It was some kind of magic that convinced me to step out Saturday night after a long, tedious illness, and let me tell you I was dressed to KILL!  (For those curious, I wore a red silk blouse with puffed sleeves, a tight little wiggle skirt with a bit of flair at the bottom in a tight herringbone pattern, my favorite black leather bow belt and European wingtip heels.  Add a black silk ascot and some black jeweled hair combs and I was just lovely!) As some of you know, I’ve been searching for THE PERFECT wool long coat to wear with my vintage creations, preferably something with a bit of fur about the neck, you know, for warmth. I haven’t quite found it yet, but can’t you just imagine?


Anyway, so I’m walking to my favorite hole in the wall from my car and it starts dusting with the tiniest little flakes, and the street goes quiet and you can smell the ice in the air and it was magical.  After a few drinks, some friendly carousing, and one very long discussion on the merits of “radical honesty” I tripped out of there looking for adventure and there is no less than 4 inches of snow on my car!  Ever the Girl Scout (I was, you know) I’m able to wipe, scrape and otherwise defrost my car so I can safely drive to my next engagement.  It’s perhaps 9:30-10pm, and everything is slow, but steady, and I’m not worried.  Seattlites always freak out at first snow fall but I was impressed with how restrained their panic seemed to be.  I am literally a block and a half from my destination when WOOSH! my car suddenly decides to pull a weird physics maneuver and slide sideways ever so gently into a wide ditch that borders the “swamp” that acts as some kind of reservoir for the area.  I was more shocked than scared, though I did have a fleeting fear of “What happens if the snow gives way and I sink into that half-frozen swamp full of brackish water and who knows what!?”, but my car, thankfully, decided that it was done acting a fool.

Though I was unable to reverse or wiggle out of the slope I was able to safely get my little butt out and back onto the street.  Lo and behold, two lovely Portlanders who had also recently found themselves in a ditch walked up to me and inquired as to my safety.  The woman was laughing to herself the entire time, she just couldn’t believe such a small amount of snow could cause this amount of problems, but the man was somehow fixated on the fact that I was wearing (2 inch) heels, and somehow that made walking in snow not just impractical, but impossible.  His continual offers to walk me to wherever I was going (even so much as to carry me!) was sweet to the point of silliness, but his female companion finally convinced him that I wasn’t wearing stilettos or anything dangerous and to leave me be.


I made it safely to my secondary location, and being the incredible hosts that they are, welcomed all their snow-bound friends to stay the night and engage in the frivolity that being “snowed in” offers.  Cocoa, rum, a Firefly marathon and a very fun game of “Catch Phrase”.  Moral of this story?  A true friend offers you a couch and a mug of hot buttered rum, there’s never a reason NOT to look fabulous, and this girl can successfully trek up a snowy slope in heels and a pencil skirt like a BOSS.

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Double your pleasure, double your fun…

Duos!  Duo Duos!  Do duos!!  *sorry, I couldn’t help myself*

Hello my lovely people!  Right at this very second it is “slushing” outside.  Not raining by any means, but its way too wet to be considered snow.  And it falls on you in freezing gobs…  brrrrrr!  I’m so glad to have a cozy love nest to curl up in, drink cocoa, and read erotica.

But enough about my evening!  I’m here to talk about some of my very favorite women, and perhaps entice one or two to write me!

First off, we have Sofina!  Sofina is an absolute doll.  She has a ridiculously curvy frame with some of the best hips I’ve ever seen.  A natural brunette, Sofina  has longish hair with some very cute blunt bangs.  If you are very good, she’ll even keep her glasses on for you!  Sofina is definitely the “geek” in my little cadre.  If you have a need for discussing the latest sci-fi show, or debating the merits of a character’s actions in a nerdy novel, Sofina is your girl.  She and I have been known to geek out together and it can be quite the scene! (Oh, did I mention the boobs?  She has huge tracks of land!)

Next, we have Vera Larkin!  The beautiful Vera is a fashion chameleon.  Currently, she has a short mod-style hair cut that is a lovely auburn color.  She has flawless porcelain skin, and it is quite a treat to hear her purr as you stroke your hand over her body.  Vera is my favorite short person, because I’m actually taller than her!  (I’m never taller.  Ever) Standing a petite 5′ 1″ she has the demure thing down, but she can be a bit of a spitfire in the bedroom.  (Oh, and Ms Vera’s lovely baubles are also a bit more than a handful!)

Lastly, (but not least, by any means) is my newest partner in crime is Miss Poppy Black!  It was a fortuitous meeting that brought her and me together, and you know what they say, when fate intervenes no man can stop it!  Poppy is a bohemian dynamo with some seriously sexy moves.  She is long and lean and very… perky.  She has a short pixie cut right now that really brings out her eyes, and gently sun-kissed skin that is so very soft.  I’ve taken this adorable young lady under my wing, but honestly she can fly pretty well solo now!  I can tell you that she is smart and fierce, and she can decorate a room impeccably.

Now, if any of these lovely, sexy, flirty ladies appeal to you, you can always e-mail me!  I do have a few pictures of them all on my website too 😉

Next post should be an article on something I have mixed feelings about: body hair.  Ciao for now!

Blue Velvet Pictures, With Apologies!

Hello my darlings and lovelies!  Forgive the delay in unveiling my newest photo shoot.  As you might know, I do almost all my own editing, and I have been having a BEAST of a time dealing with GIMP and it’s open source software.  I really need to finally get it together and get (and learn!) Photoshop.  Forgive if these seem a little blown out, I’m trying to figure out a way to get a happy medium between “boring” and “creatively artistic”.  Without further ado!  (tell me which ones are your favorite!) (WP seems to limit the amount of images I can post.  Also this should go without saying but NSFW)

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Is A Picture Really Worth A Thousand Words?

All right my darlings, I promised you a picture, and a picture you will have!  Now do keep in mind this is a pretty rough cut, I need to perform a little more GIMP magic to get the levels just right.  This is my first shoot with this photographer, and I think she is a keeper!  She really enjoyed this kind of subject, and will soon be up and mobile to offer shoots to other gals like myself.  She really knows how to put a girl at ease and feel absolutely beautiful!  (I promised I’d keep her name and contact info under wraps until her new site is up.  Photogs are picky that way!)

(Pix after the jump, possibly NSFW)

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Don’t Tell Anyone, But I Rather Enjoy This!

Hello my lovelies!  You will NEVER guess what it is I did this week.  No, really, try guessing I promise you won’t get it right!




Wait, who said “PHOTO SHOOT”, way there in the back?  ….  Well, fine yes that happened, but guess again!  There was more to it than just that!



OK OK I’ll just say it:  Everyone’s favorite red-headed siren has gone and turned herself into a smouldering brunette vixen!  Before everyone revolts and heads for the door, let’s just take a breath and remember that this is me we are talking about.  So of course I still have lovely cherry red high lights!  I decided that with the coming of Winter I could do well to tone things down and then just ramp up the contrast a bit.  I’ve even trimmed my hair down in the style of my idol, the irrepressible Bettie Page (granted my hair isn’t near as long, but the resemblance is there!).


But as we all (should) know, in this business one must keep one’s pictures up to date and fresh.  So, with the help of a very good girl friend, and over a few glasses of wine (guilty as charged!) we shot what I think might be the best shoot I’ve had to date.  We decided to go more boudoir than I’ve done previously, but with a bit of camp and warmth that I do try to convey in all my shoots.  This was the first time I’ve used my space to such a degree for photos, as well, so if anyone is curious as to what my little love nest really looks like, it’ll give you a few glimpses.


By now I can hear to yelling, “Enough talk!  Where are the pictures?!”  And to that I just have to say, patience!  I was far too excited NOT to tell you guys all about it, but I won’t be getting them back until Saturday.  I can say that this blog will be the first place I post my favorites, and over the next month or two I’ll be rolling out new ones.  I have to keep you guys wanting more, don’t I?


So, new hair, new photos, and soon, new(ish) body?  It’s true!  I’ve taken on a personal trainer that I think will really work me into a (more) pleasing shape, without taking away from my luscious curves that so many find delicious.  My goals are to better emulate some of my favorite pin up and burlesque idols, and one does that with defined curves, long, lean legs, a killer bosom and a very pert bottom!  Before I’m deluged with “But Magdalene, you have that already!  Don’t change!”  I’m not looking to lose 50 lbs and hope for fame as a conventional model!  I’m quite the opposite of conventional, wouldn’t you say?  What I want to do is sculpt what is already there.  Hell, I very well may GAIN weight because (and repeat this over and over) muscle weighs more than fat.  And I like a bit of muscle on my women, don’t you?


This entire transformation does have a secondary goal, though.  And here I am being completely open and honest with my favorite readers:  As of January 1st, 2014, I will be raising my rates to 300/hr.  I’m beginning school in earnest and I need to be able to focus more on my studies than on my inbox.  I want desperately to keep my favorites happy and close to me, so I’m offering a grandfather plan (can we call it something other than that?  I don’t want to think of my grandfather when discussing the finer points of the bedroom!) If, as of January 1st, 2014, you have seen me within the last 6 months you will be welcome to enjoy my current regular rates for the following 6 months.  Does that sound fair?  Keeping some spread sheet somewhere that says who gets my old rate vs who gets my new rate sounds like a headache I don’t want, so I’m letting it stand now: Previous friends are invited to use my 2013 rates for the first 6 months of 2014.  At that point everything goes back to “zero” as it were, and the rates are the same across the board.


I know that this bump will be a deal breaker for some of you, and I will be terribly sad to see you go.  I of course am always good for a reference, and can even steer some in the direction of a lady I think you might click with.  I’m happy to field questions privately through email, and I appreciate keeping derisive comments to yourselves (not that any of you, dear readers, would try and argue me out of a personal financial decision)  I have to put most of my energy towards my education, and smart women are so very sexy!  (Speaking of sex, can you take a guess at what I’ll be studying?  If you were in the vicinity of “the psychology of sex” then you’re right!)


BUT!  That is far away and we are still here together!  My spiced cider was a big hit last week, so I think I’m going to continue to trend.  I think it would serve me to get a special pot just for keeping cider warm for visitors.  I’m trying to come up with other ideas for little nibbles that we can feed each other in between romps, and I can’t seem to come up with anything past chocolate bites, nuts, and berries.  Surely there is something else I’m missing!

Until next time my darlings!

Do these leg warmers make me look fit?



Oh, my stars and garters!  After having my “Let’s Get Physical” post up no more than a few days, I have gotten more feed back from this blog than I have EVER before (and that included my playing around with a sex toy…)


If you are wanting and willing to step up and challenge yourself, too, you are more than welcome to follow me and work out with me in spirit!  (Just think of me in a high cut thong, bosom-lifting lycra top and fuzzy leg warmers…)


I want to re iterate something, my dears: I am just trying to get healthier and maybe squeeze back into a little black dress or two.  I don’t know why you rushed to your email to send me worried notes about self-esteem and beauty, trust me, I am plenty happy with who I am and what I look like!  But, we could all be a little better, don’t you think?


For those following at home:


For the next 4 weeks I will be phasing my eating habits to lean more towards healthy meats, proteins, veggies, a little bit of fruit and a little bit of cheese.  Think of it as a modified paleo diet.  (Honestly, did you think I’d give up my vanilla lattes?  Scandalous!)


Week one is getting rid of simple carbs and processed grain (sugar, bread, bagels, that sort of thing) and trying out lean red meat.

Week two is adding in white meat (chicken and pork) to replace the carbs. (This is also when I’ll be learning more modern, healthier ways of cooking meat.  Sadly breading and butter and frying won’t cut it)

Week three is phasing out (most) dairy and bumping up dark, leafy green veggies and eggs.

Week four should see me at the full range of lean proteins, vitamin-rich veggies, a few complex carbs and fruit for a sweet.


As a favorite food guru said, 80% of fitness is in the diet.  I am very confident that this move will do most the work for me and give me results I can see.  After this four weeks is done with, I will be advancing to directed, scripted, work outs.  Luckily, I have access to a nice gym with fairly good weights (oh yeah, I lift, what of it?) I hate cardio.  Thankfully I don’t have to be out sweating and huffing and puffing when I can do all of that, in half the time, lifting weights.  I much prefer to get my cardio fix the FUN way *suggestive grin*



So!  There’s my plan and you can see where I’m going!  Would it be helpful for me to post progress pictures?  I have some dynamite recipes I’d love to share.  I never get to take pictures of my food.

Thanks for letting me ramble.  There’s a “serious” article coming up soonish, but who can be serious in summer?

What’s New Pussy Cat?

Hello ladies and gentlemen!  It seems the more I try to stay on topic, relevant, and above all RELIABLE the more the Universe decides to bat me around like a cat with a mouse!  But does that get me down?  Not a whit!


For those who were worried about my absence, not only are you all princes and princesses, but you have no need to worry.  Radio silence on my end more likely means my life is getting interesting and full of “real world” commitments, but rarely does it mean something awful has happened.  **Little secret:  I have one or two safety protocols in place that if something dire were to happen to me, not only would steps be taken to safeguard all of my information, but would get the word out on my social network sites like WP and Twitter.  Be prepared!**


So, what was so interesting that I was pulled away for this long?  Well, in a nut shell:

I got seven (7!) hours of work done on my tattoo, which means the tree is nearly finished.  yay!  BUT my body didn’t like the huge shock that comes with repeatedly jabbing needles into one’s skin for hours on end, and my immune system dropped.  Sadly I picked up a bit of an infection (not at the tattoo site, this was like a really bad head cold) and though I have excellent health care, I was given some sulfa drugs that, it turns out, I’m allergic to!  It took nearly a week to get that out of my system, and then to come back from everything else.


I know that’s boring, but that’s what was going on 🙂  In between the tattooing, head cold, antibiotics and allergic reactions I found a lovely yoga studio that I think I will be attending regularly.  It’s time that I really start taking care of this sexy body, don’t you think?  Healthy body, healthy mind, right?  🙂


Now, my darlings, we can get back to our regularly scheduled entertainment!  I’m thinking it’s high time for another “Ask Mag!” entry, so look forward to that tomorrow!

1950s House Wife Experience, Anyone?


Let me tell you about a fantastic offering I have had hidden away on my website:

1950s Housewife Experience (HWE) . For the man who, after a hard day’s labor, wants nothing more than to come home to a home-cooked meal, a beautiful lady in her best back seam stockings and pearls, and perhaps a well-shaken martini.

I am happy to host this little getaway, for the man who prefers to play away from home. Give me at least four hours of your time, and I will take you on a most luxurious and dare I say deeply domestic journey.

We begin, obviously, with a welcome kiss at the door. I will take your hat and jacket, while you settle yourself on my couch with a drink in hand. Relax as I remove your shoes and administer a foot rub as I ask about your day. Dinner is smelling delightful, and we soon find ourselves at the table, witty banter, flirtatious looks, and a glass of wine as we enjoy a meal perfectly prepared.

After dinner, of course, comes dessert! We can undress each other, peeling layer after layer down, until I am down to my stockings and garter. Would you enjoy a sudsy couple’s shower so I can scrub and rub away the day’s labor? Or perhaps you would prefer to stretch out on my queen sized bed for a relaxing and arousing massage with hot oils? I can feed you strawberries and cream while you lay back in my arms, or perhaps I can become your dessert plate as you lick chocolate and honey from my supple breast and soft skin.

From there, satin sheets and fast-beating hearts do their duty and call us to more carnal desires… a lady never reveals all of her secrets…

What more could a busy man ask for than engaging conversation, a truly lovely dinner companion, and the luxury of being pampered like the king you are?

This offering isn’t for everyone, surely, but I do adore building a specific and intimate encounter that only you and I will share together. I am happy to converse at length about this particular offering, to tailor it just so to your exacting standards.


Those of you who follow me on the boards have probably come across my most recent ad, in which I showcase my newly coined offering The HouseWife Experience (HWE).  Without becoming overly loquacious, which is my wont when I get truly excited, I have tried to evoke a very specific fantasy I’ve had the pleasure to meter out a few times before.  It is the very discerning man that would request such a time-intensive play-acting scene, but it is a particular favorite of mine for a number of reasons.


First an foremost, it is ALWAYS a treat to be able to dress up in my flowing dresses, back seam stockings, garter, girdle, heels, and the rest to be admired for more than the span of the walk from the door to the bedroom.  I can spend upwards of two hours on my “look”, given adequate motivation, and darn it if it isn’t a little discouraging when in the first ten minutes my lipstick is smeared and my hair pins have been tousled out of my hair.  (Please don’t twist my meaning, sometimes that last image is exactly what I am wanting and going for.  There IS a proper time and place for everything, even smeared lipstick!)


I think more generally, however, I just enjoy cooking for someone.  I grew up in a household where home-cooked meals, while more common than most, was more of a statement of intent and love than just a vehicle to feed the lot of us.  My father did all the cooking, and ever the showman he took great pride in not only concocting delicious dishes, but he painstakingly developed the ability to make everything look amazing as well.  Asparagus spears laid out ramrod straight with artful drizzles of hollandaise sauce.  Rack of lamb with hand-made crowns tufted in gold foil around the bones.  Perfectly steamed carrots, bright orange, punctured with dots of clove and lemon zest.  Presentation is part of the meal, I was raised to believe, and a truly appetizing plate not only smells and tastes delicious, it looks the part, too. It’s no fun to stir up a pot of soup for one, or to spend 30 minutes whipping red potatoes with cream, butter, chives and chicken broth just for little ol’ me.  So I spend most nights with perfectly nourishing but boring food.  Given the slightest provocation, however, and I can create pineapple upsidedown tarts with raspberries, swirled white chocolate mocha brownies, or lemon chicken linguine with pesto and broccoli.  I cook with butter and salt, garlic and cream.  I love mixing colors and textures in a pleasing fashion, but it only counts if it’s for someone else.


This idea started, like so many do, out of curious necessity   I had a client who had just moved to this city, and was quite literally living (and eating) out of boxes.  He confessed to me that though he knew how to use a stove and oven, he never learned how to cook for himself. His idea of a “home cooked meal” was popping something frozen in the broiler for two hours, not caring about the burnt edges or watery middle of those mass produced frozen monstrosities they sell in grocery stores.  I offered to come over and make him something “simple”.  He said his favorite meal his mother used to make him was meat loaf, so I came over with some ground pork, lamb and beef, some home made bread crumbs and about a pound of yukon gold potatoes and got to work.  


I don’t need to tell you that his house lacked something fierce for spices, and I didn’t even think to bring my own.  I made do with flaked black pepper, table salt, ketchup and brown sugar.  With no chicken broth in sight, I suctioned off some of the resulting “loaf” drippings and used them to blend the potatoes into stiff peaks.  Ketchup mixed with a slightly obscene amount of brown sugar created a sticky sweet glaze for the meat loaf.  In two hours his house smelled like meat and sugar, not an unhappy aroma.  He remarked on how famished he was, and how his house had never smelled so good.


That first dinner was a wake up call for me.  Though the meal itself was quite plain by my standards, the client was satisfied down to his bones!  In a way I’ve never fully appreciated until then, he became more comfortable in his skin, and more genuine in his desires.  During the washing up he quipped that perhaps I should take off my pretty dress, in case I got soap on it.  I stripped down and he stared in awe at my girdle attached to garter straps and stockings.  He had no idea that I was vintage to my skin!  I gave a show of sudsing up the plates and utensils, buffing and rubbing and honestly making an absolutely obscene spectacle of myself.  After that it was just a matter of time before he whisked me away to the bedroom.


In the resulting shower, as I scrubbed his back clean of sweat and lust, he remarked on how I should come over again and do “that wife stuff” for him.  I obliged, and for almost a year we had a weekly night where I would arrive close after he returned from work around 6pm, dinner at 7:15pm sharp, and after a snuggle and a movie (with wine and chocolate, naturally) I would “perform my marital duties” with a vigor that would make a real June Cleaver blush!  A kiss goodnight at midnight and I would be off, and he would think on the next meal he would have with me.


Over that year I perfected my domestic skills.  Laundry, ironing, the dreaded vaccuming and dusting.  I learned how to hem slacks, sew buttons onto popped shirts, starch collars and tie ties.  I learned how to polish shoes to a high shine, and found out just why copper bottomed pots are so superior to their counterparts.  I learned how to be a perfect wife.  


But just for a night.  That’s where the fantasy lies, in that perfection.  I would make a horrible “real” wife, you see.  But I do so love playing the part, that I always look forward to those nights when the work load is tiring and the laundry is piling up, and my client needs his “little wifey” to materialize.  June Cleaver, eat your heart out.