Secrets of a Good Girl: Living Freestyle Series, #1

By Josette Armand

            Secrets of a Good Girl pulls back the curtain on an erotic world hiding in plain sight—a world where women are in control. In this memoir, readers will follow the real life journey of "Josie" as she goes behind closed doors into European sex clubs, aboard private yachts, and to exclusive erotic enclaves around the world. Along the way she discovers how living a life of positive sexuality brought her relationship with her long-time lover to a new level of romance, trust, and unconditional love.

            Led by her curiosity, she shares the story of embracing her erotic empowerment, from her eye-opening first visit to an all-nude resort, to her explicit encounters with couples, other women, and multiple 'play partners'. Throughout this memoir Josie explains, confronts—and sometimes struggles with—her own sexual boundaries. But then, reveals how step-by-step they fall to the floor like her little black dress. Each chapter is filled with candid truth, casual humor and revealing emotions.

            Originally published under the title, "Living Freestyle", SECRETS of a GOOD GIRL is now the first in a series of memoirs that invites readers into a life of erotic fulfillment, and encourages them to accept their own inner yearnings, without judgment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DJM Media
• Release date: Nov 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201628376

Josette Armand

         Josette Armand has been an active erotic Lifestyle adventurer for many years. Her travels have taken her around the globe, and to six continents. In every location she finds new sexy experiences to share with readers in her real-life memoir, "SECRETS of a GOOD GIRL - Living Freestyle Book 1”. In addition to finding the freedom that comes from embracing her sexual empowerment, she also discovered a renewed depth of honesty, trust, romance and unconditional love with her longtime lover and travel companion, Luke.            Throughout her memoir “Josie” explains, confronts—and sometimes struggles with—her own sexual boundaries. But then, reveals how step-by-step they fall to the floor like her little black dress. Sharing her journey with candid truth, casual humor and revealing emotions, she invites readers to join her in a life of fulfillment, and open choices. She encourages them to accept and explore their own inner yearnings, without judgment. And gives them helpful tips if one day they decide to try their own sexy ‘play-cation.’ 

Book preview

Introduction

Living Freestyle

Hi, I’m Josie.

Please don’t call me a Swinger.

I’m just a girl with an honest, healthy and open-minded attitude about her own body and sexuality. I’m also a woman with a unique point of view about friendship and conventional sexual boundaries.

I understand that many people still use the term swinging to describe someone who has sex with more than one partner, but to me, that term feels dated. Using that word today feels like a flashback to the 1960s and the old keys in the fishbowl parties I’ve heard of.

Back then, according to suburban mythology, when couples arrived at these parties, the men dropped their car keys in a designated bowl. At the end of the night, the men would blindly grab a set of keys from the bowl, and whichever wife went with those keys would have sex with the man holding them.

It’s where the term wife swapping became popular too. Another term that I, and many other women, find a little offensive and out of step with the times. (Besides, if you’re the man, how do you know you’re not the one being swapped?)

But, today, it’s not like that.

And I’m not like that.

I’m simply curious.

I’m curious about how other people think and feel about their sexuality. I’m curious about what turns them on, about what arouses my lovers and what arouses me. I want to know how I can please them. And, of course, I love it when they want to know how to please me as well.

It’s that curiosity that drives me to experience more.

To be clear, I’m not promiscuous.

I am very selective about my companions. And, I don’t simply jump into bed with random, nameless strangers. That isn’t what I’m looking for. And it’s not who I am.

In many ways, it’s not that different from dating. Really. Every once in a while, a bad apple slips past your guard, and you have a less-than positive experience. But for the most part, in my world, being selective is the key.

For me, it’s about making new friends; specifically, the kind of friends that share my open-minded and honest approach to their sexuality. I mean the kind of friends that don’t slam the door of friendship at the threshold of sexual contact. Friends that are fun to socialize with, travel with, go to dinner with, and yes, sexually fool around with, or ‘play’ as we call it.

Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with that. Plus, since I am so selective about my friends and partners, if I had fun with them the night before, why wouldn’t I go to brunch or go shopping with them the next day?

I’ll admit. I may have started out as a ‘late bloomer’—over protected and a little naïve. But in more recent years I’ve made up for it, as you’ll see in the upcoming chapters. These days I’m extremely fortunate, because for several years now, I have had one steady, trusting, secure, and loving man in my life. Many of the encounters I’ll describe in this book include him. Some don’t. He allows, and even encourages, me to surrender to my sexual spontaneity. And, in return, he surrenders his love, devotion, and support for me. Our relationship is based on absolute honesty, keeping the fires of romance well fueled, and sharing a truly unconditional love that is complete, insatiable, and without judgment.

I know that’s not common for many relationships. But maybe, the secrets I’m about to reveal to you can help with that.

Within the last several years, I’ve noticed many people sharing my open views about sexuality and relationships. Terms like ‘polyamory’, ‘monogam-ish’, and ‘ethical non-monogamy’ have become more familiar. Although the friends I’ve come to know who are actively involved in what some might still call swinging, just refer to it as the Lifestyle. And for many, it’s become a growing trend.

Through websites, chat rooms, and social media groups the door is wide open for people from every walk of life and cultural background to connect to like-minded individuals. Those who feel a little bit different about their sexual appetites can meet and get to know one another. It even allows the merely curious to find and book an adventurous vacation to test the waters of their libido.

Above all, within the Lifestyle, respect for the privacy of your companions is essential. Employers, families, and social organizations may not be willing to understand and accept these differences regarding sexual openness. For those who choose to participate, discretion and confidentiality are the two most important elements of the Lifestyle. (Along with personal health, cleanliness and hygiene, of course.)

Within this community, each couple makes their own rules that are unique to their relationship. And, they establish boundaries and guidelines that work for them. But unlike the wife swapping and the keys-in-the-fishbowl parties of yesteryear, today the women are in control.

Really.

From erotic resorts in the Caribbean, to private sex clubs in Europe, to hotel take-overs and cruise ship charters around the globe–women are in charge. We take control of our bodies, our actions, and our partners. And, by maintaining the single and universal rule that No means No personal security is protected in an environment that could make many women uncomfortable.

The stories that follow are from my own personal experiences and perspective. Each and every one of them is true. Of course, I have changed the names of many of the locations and of everyone involved. Though I ask you to not judge me, I realize that the world is still full of people that do.

Also, since the term ‘Lifestyle’ has so many applications these days, it can be easily misused, and misunderstood. So many people just say LS for short. But, since I’ve never been a fan of being labeled, I prefer my own term–‘Freestyle.’ It suits my sense of independence and allows me the freedom to live my life in the style I choose, when and where I choose, and with the people I choose. 

So, as you read, whenever you see the word ‘Lifestyle,’ know that I’m talking about it as the whole social movement, including travel groups, private clubs, and resorts that fall into this niche. But, when I choose to use my own term, ‘Freestyle,’ know that I’m talking about me as an individual and my particular way of looking at and enjoying my life.     

So, come along with me as I retrace the steps of my erotic journey. It follows a path over a number of years as I evolve from curiosity-seeker, through discoveries and pitfalls, until I reach a level of experience and comfort with the Lifestyle. With each step along the way I learn secrets and lessons that I will share with you. I also confront and overcome my own preconceived sexual boundaries, and fill my life, and my lover’s, with absolute honesty and unconditional love. 

Just a quick reminder, as you read this memoir; kindly keep in mind that judgment is the enemy of learning. So please–don’t judge me.

Chapter One

Naked in Public

Feeling playful, I turned and climbed across Bob’s lap. My naked breasts were right in front of his nose, and as he reached for them with his mouth, I rubbed them back and forth across his face. His tongue and teeth teased them, as my nipples grew harder in the cool night air.

Then he did something he’d never done before: he nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. Uh-oh, I thought, this could be trouble.

A man’s breath on my neck is just so intoxicating for me. I could feel myself begin to melt inside. Was it the water from the hot tub? Was it the wine from dinner? Or was it something new?

As I sat in that dream-like moment, Bob raised his head and began to passionately kiss me.

Bob and I have shared many pleasant and friendly kisses before, but these were fiery, urgent, and filled with an intense hunger unlike ever before.

I’m always good with a quick kiss on the cheek, even charmed by it sometimes. I often enjoy a soft peck on the lips from someone I like. But, I reserve deep, passionate, open-mouthed kisses like these for my closest lovers.

That said, I would have normally gently withdrawn from Bob’s lusty kisses. But the moment was so hot, and I felt so safe that for some reason, this time I didn’t resist.

Below the water, his hands reached down tenderly caressing the bare roundness of my curves, until they reached my velvety lips. His fingertips gently explored the pleats and draping of my soft open curtain. Wow, he said, even underwater, I can feel how wet you are tonight.

I smiled and whispered in his ear, And I can feel how very hard you are tonight.

I moved in closer as Bob slipped his hands around my hips and took hold of my butt. Rolling my body, I began to rub my juicy goodness up against his hard shaft. It felt so good to feel his firmness gliding over my clit as I slid up and down against him. He sucked my breasts and squeezed them with one hand, while the other kneaded my ass.

I had started this to just be playful, but each time I slid up and down I heard his soft moan of desire. And each time, I let the tip of his cock get closer and closer to my boundary of penetration. I let my head roll back as he pulsed nearer and nearer to my forbidden curtain opening.

And then it happened.

Wait… I’m getting way ahead of myself.

A woman doesn’t get herself this deep into a journey of sexual discovery without having taken a lot of steps to get here.

So, let’s go back to how it all began….

I first heard of what I now know as clothing-optional recreation when I was a kid growing up in the American Midwest. Back then, regular people referred to those people who did this sort of thing as Nudists. In the small town where I grew up, it was something only those weirdo’s would do. They went to nudist colonies, where they camped in the woods, played volleyball all day, and ran around nekkid. (You know, I never understood why people thought if you were naked that you were always running.)

Well, I wasn’t a weirdo. I went to church on Sundays, was involved in the community, and was taught by my loving mother to be a Good Girl. But even as a kid, I thought it sounded fun and healthy to take my clothes off, shower my skin in sunshine, and surround myself with nature.

I’ve always been active. I was a tomboy growing up and just wanted to be playing sports with my friends in the neighborhood. I played Army with the boys down the block and hunted for frogs in a nearby creek. During the summer, a game of flashlight tag often gave us a couple more hours before we had to head home.

In high school I had a steady boyfriend, like most girls my age, who pestered me for sex, like most boys his age. Being a Good Girl, I resisted for quite a while, and learned the value and techniques of giving a good hand job. And that was enough to postpone the day when I’d actually have to cross that bridge to full intercourse. During that time I was active in girls’ sports and loved being outside. I didn’t even mind getting a little dirty; it was fun. I almost never gave any thought to how I looked. I was just being me.

I guess that stuck with me, because now as an adult, I’ve never felt self-conscious about my body. (Except when some creepy guy is staring at me in the grocery store.)

Through those later teen years when a girl is close to legal age but still short on social exposure to the adult world, I’m pretty sure that the protective side of my mother could see the signs of a brewing sexuality in me, and the attentions of older men. So, she kept me busy. She kept me very busy.

She wanted me out of my cleats and into high heels. That road took me from the dust of sports fields to the sparkle of pageant stages. Now, I understand that today people have a variety of opinions about pageants and what example they are giving to young women. But for me, as a girl from a small town, they helped build my self-esteem, and gave me the skills to present myself in an adult world as a poised and confident woman. That experience also made me very aware and able to recognize a man’s invitations and intentions very quickly.

Personal appearances, social events, and photo shoots provided ample opportunities for a young woman to innocently walk into an office, a hotel, or other situation and be confronted with choices beyond her maturity. I’m very thankful to have been able to spot these risks and politely avoid them. I never had a Me Too moment, or any type of sexual trauma as a result. Maybe growing up around so many boys as a kid gave me a sixth sense, because by this time I could see a man’s intentions a smile away.

In my early 20’s, after moving on from that boy from high school, I was a little footloose. Like many young women at that age, I began to express myself with my clothes, my hair, my flirtatiousness, and my new found sexual power with men. I usually wouldn’t let it go ‘all the way’. (Remember my reference to hand jobs?)

But on those rare occasions when I did, it would either be with a slightly older gentleman who knew how to treat a girl like a very special lady, or with a guy more my age that I chose to just have some physical fun with. For those, it was sort of like athletics for me. Their strong, muscular bodies made me feel petite, as I’d climb on top and run my hands over their rippled abs and puffed up pecks. I found the act of having sex to be easy, and really enjoyed it because I was having fun. It felt just like sports—sort of like teamwork and yet a little competitive.

During those days if it ever got serious, then I wasn’t interested. I knew what I wanted, and that wasn’t getting entangled. Once after inviting a guy back to my place, but then being really dissatisfied when I found out he didn’t have ‘game’, I practically tossed him out of bed saying, You’ve got to go. My boyfriend will be back any minute.

I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time. After being such a disappointment though, he just had to go.

As I became my own adult and had the opportunity to explore the notion of nude recreation, I moved beyond just driving out to the country, spreading out a blanket in a desolate clearing, and feeling the exhilaration of shedding my clothes in the warm sunshine. I wanted to find out more.

I learned that these days many people who enjoy nude recreation refer to themselves as Naturists. That name allows them to more clearly identify their organic motives and holistic mindset and leave behind the old Nudist stereotypes.

I also discovered that a very reputable nude resort was not far from where I was living at the time. (Who knew these existed?)

My new boyfriend and I hadn’t been together that long, but one night I asked him if he wanted to go with me.

Are you kidding? he asked.

No, I think it’ll be fun. I answered.

Then, after a long pause, he responded with an enthusiastic, Heck, yeah!

We made a reservation.

On the drive there, we talked about our thoughts and concerns. Even though we were both fairly young and had healthy body images, we had no clue what we were getting into.

Most people who have never been to a nude resort tend to have the same questions as we did. For women, it’s most likely:

Do all the women look like models?

Will they think I’m fat?

What about my stretch marks or scars?

Do I need to shave everything?

For men, it’s usually:

Do all the guys look like body builders?

Are all the women really naked?

What if I don’t measure up?

And, of course: What if I get aroused?

Looking back now, after all the nude destinations I’ve been to, let me assure you that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve found that whatever you look like, Naturist retreats are the most accepting and judgment-free places I’ve ever been. In addition, if you want to know what the people at those places look like, just pause and look around the next time you’re in a public place, like a shopping mall or airport. The people at a nude resort are exactly the same kind of people you’ll see around you; just without their clothes.

When we arrived at the resort, we drove up to a large set of gates, and a very tanned and friendly woman in a security booth greeted us. She confirmed our reservation, gave us a pass for our car, and told us where to park once we got inside. As she pressed the button to open the gates, I suddenly became very excited and thought to myself, Okay, there’s no going back now.

The gates opened slowly, like a curtain revealing a new world. I felt like Dorothy opening the door and going from the black-and-white of Kansas into the colorful Land of Oz.

Outside the gates, everyone was dressed. But inside, no one was, except the staff. As we drove in, I saw couples on their way to play tennis, wearing only sneakers and a visor. Men were heading for the pool with just a towel over their shoulder and flip-flops on their feet. A group of ladies taking a brisk exercise walk crossed in front of us, in just sunhats and walking shoes.

It took a moment to adjust. But, it was wonderful and so much more than I expected. Not only was it a quaint and charming little retreat, but I discovered it was a community as well. People lived here year-round. They raise families, go to work, play sports, and do all the regular stuff people do everywhere. They’re just naked. They treated it like no big deal. And, because of that, so did I.

There were no tents full of campers, as the old Nudist colony stories held. It was more like a cozy tropical resort, with hotel rooms surrounding a series of swimming pools, like something you’d see on the Gulf Coast. As we were given a tour around the grounds and taken to our room, I actually felt a little conspicuous being dressed. The rooms weren’t fancy, but they were clean and adequate. Once we got settled into our room, I couldn’t wait—I was naked and almost out the door without my boyfriend.

I was giddy and eager to experience everything, especially after having waited so long to see what it was all about. Surprisingly, after the first few minutes, I realized that I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that everyone was nude. You stop looking and realize that it doesn’t really matter.

Over the next few days, we sunned and swam, dined and danced, and yes, even played a little water volleyball. Despite being naked the whole time, no one leered at me and there were no awkward guys coming on to me. It was just smiling happy people of all ages and races enjoying the sun, the water, and each other’s company. They played cards and shuffleboard, tennis and horseshoes. They worked out, they went shopping, and they laughed–a lot. It was great!

I discovered that when people take off their clothes, they also take off their status symbols, their pretentions, and their closed mindedness. Nudists are, for the most part, the friendliest people you will ever meet.

I should point out that places like this, ones that are exclusively Naturist-oriented, have very strict rules about sexual behavior–namely, it’s not allowed in public. They have separated nudity and sexuality into two completely different, concepts. Here you’re free to be nude anywhere you want to go. But, if you’re feeling sexy, that has to be taken behind closed doors. This allows people who want to enjoy the freedom of being nude to do so without feeling uncomfortable about any public sexual behavior.

(There are other destinations to go to for that, and I’ll get to those in a little while.)

On the day we were leaving we had become so accustomed to being nude that it actually was difficult to put our clothes back on. We felt so completely liberated by being nude for several days that we were almost resentful at having to cover up again. In fact, I cared so little about covering my newly tanned body that I wasn’t as careful about dressing as I would normally be.

It wasn’t until we stopped to get a snack that I realized there was a problem. As we stood in line at a convenience store to pay, I noticed that people were staring at me. Thinking my hair