If you’ll note in other threads, QuickSilver does indeed frequent the gym himself, and keeps himself looking tiptop for his lady friends. He’s never implied it was a one way street, but I guess if you don’t read his stuff often, then this thread might come across the wrong way. But I’ll vouch for him: Quickie’s a good guy. 
As for lingerie, god, I love it. I want more of it. I only have a handful of nice outfits - and that’s what they are to me, outfits. Costume! Fancy dress! I usually pick mine out, as the whole idea seems to make my husband nervous. I do wish he would, though. It would be so much fun. He does enjoy seeing what I’ve picked out, though. The payoff for me is, you know, I have sex with my husband! Woohoo! Always a thrill.
Actually, that’s a lie. It’s part of the payoff. I don’t normally feel very sexy, and dress somewhat conservatively (the worst I do is show some occasional peek-y cleavage, but mostly because it’s hard to hide these damn jugs all the time!) But when I put on some sexy lingerie, or outfit of some sort, I transform from the mild mannered mousey girl people see outside, and I become the* Queen of the Boudoir*! Fantasies abound in my mind when I’m dressed up. I become what I wear; maybe I’m a high class hooker waiting in a stranger’s penthouse, maybe I’m a dancing girl from a house of burlesque, maybe I’m nobility in some exotic country, sitting atop a pile of silk pillows, maybe I’m a housewife who just got into something naughty and is awaiting to surprise her husband at the door (oh, wait - that’s me! hee!) Whatever it is, it’s all fantasy, I feel sexy, and when my husband sees it, it’s a pretty clear sign that I’m in the mood (without all the dancing around: “Are you… ah… do you want to… how are you feeling? Do you still feel sick? No? …wanna have sex?” Okay, usually it’s not that hard, but this was a conversation that happened several weeks ago as I was recovering from the flu. The next day I put on one of my little shiny numbers, no questions were asked, no words were said, and I was carried off to the bedroom. Whee!)
Naturally, reactions will be varied amongst women. Some women feel they have to/should do it for their men. It’s probably not a good attitude to start doing something this personal without knowing what’s in it for yourself - it’s all well and good that you want to please your mate, but if you get nothing at all from it, it might be time to stop and think why. If it’s something you do not enjoy, you should not have to do it if you do not want to. I’ve always been a strong advocate of communication in sex, and here it is again: you must tell your partner what you liek and don’t like. If you don’t know what you might like, give it a few tries. No one has to jump into something. And if you decide you don’t like it, stop! It’s one thing to do something your partner likes on special occasions because you know it would please him/her, even though it’s not something you’d like to do all the time but figure you can this once, but it’s another thing to do it over and over again and wonder what is in it for you. This is where you have to speak up and say, “I do not enjoy this. This does nothing for me.” If your partner believes you enjoy it, because you keep doing it, it’s not the partner’s fault. And some people will sit and let this resentment build up until they get angry and hurtful, claiming to be the victim in the whole thing, when all they had to do was speak up. However, if your partner insists on you doing it, even though you claim to hate it, it’s time to sit down and communicate (or, if it is a mentally abusive relationship, time to find a new partner) and find a happy medium - no one person should have all the power.
When your partner comes to you and asks what they are supposed to be getting out of something, maybe it’s time to sit down and talk: ask what would make them happy. Maybe they don’t really know. Maybe it’s time to take a little break from the something they don’t seem to “get”. Maybe it’s time for a little role reversal. Have fun getting creative, and exploring other areas. The comment could be coming from someone who doesn’t yet know how to communicate their needs. It’s time to sit down with no accusations or judgements, and listen to what they have to say.
Anyway. What do I know? I love dressing up. I may not be the Queen of the Universe, but when my husband walks through the door tonight, he’ll know who the Queen of his Universe is. shakes booty