An Emerging

First, a warning - this story is based around a "Loving wives" theme. If that gives you issues, you are going to have to grind your way to the end, some 50,000 words away before you can grumble. Ask yourself, is it really worth the effort?

The second warning is, the first 2 1/2 sections are substantially the same as an earlier submission of mine "Emergence".

Thanks to "Blackstallion21" for editing support.

Chapter5

When she quietened, he sat up, and drew her upright. She was limp and sobbing. He pulled her onto his lap, and cradled her until she quietened. He could feel her drenched vulva against him, and he began to harden again. Still again, she focussed on his face. There was a moment of silence, And then she fastened her lips onto his mouth, sucking like a leech. Her tongue was probing everywhere into his mouth, seeking every last flavour of herself. When the attack was over, he stared into her visibly shaken eyes, and said:

"I had a feeling you'd like that."

Her eyes were brimming he noted. She was beginning to grind her wetness against him, ready for more. He kissed her again, joking.

"Not bad for a respectable married woman"

She remained silent, running the palm of his hand over her chest. Rachael had found herself unable to answer. She was still coming to terms with the implications of the frenzy in which she's found herself, in which nothing, but nothing it seemed, had mattered to her but his tongue on her clitoris. God, if she could get that out of hand...

She forced a response from herself.

"You ain't seen nothing yet."

"You see, that's what I envy about you Respectable Married Women. If I come twice, the evening's over. You come three or four, and you're barely warmed up."

"Mr Y. I hope you're not implying that I've got some sort of excessive sexual appetite. I just want you to have me -- oh, another four or five times, and you'll be perfectly free to go."

The pressure of her pelvis on his cock was increasing. It dawned on him that she found this talk arousing.

"I'll do my best, Mrs X. I'd hate not to live up to expectations You have standards to keep up, I'm sure. Do you always inspire your lovers to such high achievements?"

She didn't respond. He felt her head drop onto his shoulder. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere, in the way her body was pressing against him; she continued to thrust her pelvis against his, but elsewhere it seemed now more a quest for comfort, than lust that was driving her. Then he realised. Her shoulders were again shaking; she was crying. Discomfited, he could think of nothing to do but hold her, and then rock her gently from side to side, cosseting her like a child.

She broke from him. At no stage looking him in the eye, she rushed into the bathroom. Once inside, Rachael broke down into a full-fledged bawl. Curling in a corner, she huddled in on herself.

"Why now?" She found herself pondering. Just moments ago, she'd most blissful; feeling the afterglow of an orgasm more consummate than she'd imagined possible, feeling increasingly lecherous for his cock to be inside her again. Then, without warning, a tsunami of emotions had crashed down over her; renewed insecurity, horror at her own excess, fear for its effects on her marriage and family...

There was a gentle knock on the door. It opened. She turned away, not wanting to be seen in this condition. She was aware of him kneeling next to her, his soothing tone.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Rachael shook her head. She just wanted him to go, to leave her. He seemed a decent man, how could he want any contact with a trollop like her? Almost as decent, probably as Alistair, and she'd...Another wave of sobs overtook her. She was vaguely aware of being lifted, carried like a child and placed back on the bed. He spread the duvet over her, and cradled her. He was stroking her hair.

After some minutes, she found her voice.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...how can you bear to touch me..."

There was a gentle humour in his reply:

"I've been touching you all over all night, and it's been very pleasant so far. Now, what's wrong? Tell me."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Whatever it is."

His words seemed to her to be overflowing with compassion. In spite of herself, she pressed her cheek against his chest, like a frightened toddler seeking the protection of it's parent.

"Oh, God...where can I begin. I'm a fraud, apart from anything else. I'm not some rapacious slut, I've never done anything like this before. I'm not Mrs X, I'm not some sexy older woman who does this sort of thing for kicks, I'm.."

Once she'd started, there seemed nothing she could do to stop the words tumbling forth. She tried to explain who she really was, why she'd done what she had tonight. How unlike her it was to have been so aroused, so lewd, such a slut; of the need to prove herself, to overcome the insults, and perceptions, including her own...

Rachael had no idea how long she'd babbled for, when words were finally exhausted. He still held her, and after an what seemed like an age, his reaction was soft-spoken:

"So let me get this straight. You were convinced you weren't attractive enough to make men want to have you; if you were, you couldn't unwind enough to enjoy it; and if you did, you'd be no good at it. And now you've done it, you think you shouldn't have"

She nodded, mutely.

He dropped back against the pillow, taking her with him, and lifting her chin to face him

"Mrs X. I don't know about that last one. But, as to the first three, you couldn't be more wrong." In a small voice "Not Mrs "X". Rachael."

"Rachael, then. First, you've got the most fantastic body; it wasn't only in the bar I noticed it, you know. All four of us at that window commented on your arse and legs. And I know know that the rest of you is awesome, too. These, especially."

He lightly stroked her left breast.

"And it's not just your body. You face is gorgeous, too -- its tells you everything about you that you could know -- you're clever, funny, lively. Your eyes are beautiful, and you've got the most sensual lips I've ever known."

Rachael felt herself rushing out with her usual denials, when complimented. For once, she stayed herself, as he continued.

"Second, as to unwinding and enjoying. Rachael, if tonight was a put-on -- if you were pretending to be feeling lecherous, or faking it when you came, you really need to be an actress. What happened wasn't that; what really happened was that just for once, you set aside the inhibited Rachael, and let the really, really sexy person underneath through."

"And it showed. That wasn't faking when you came all those times. That WAS you -- someone who underneath it all just really, really enjoyed it. The person who enjoyed being touched up, then having me in her, than being sucked and licked. You really did, didn't you?"

A whisper. "Yes"

"Part of the reason for that was that you'd gotten really turned-on with the idea that you could do it, wasn't it?"

Again, a nod.

"And the last bit -- were you any good at it. Rachael, without a word of a lie, I don't think I've ever had sex the like of what we've had tonight, and probably ever will again. You were -- you are -- amazing. You've got a pussy like a velvet-lined vacuum cleaner, you grind and wriggle like a snake, and being in your mouth is like nothing else I've ever experienced."

To Rachael's disbelief, rather than the discomfort she usually felt hen being complimented, his words warmed her throughout; more amazingly, the glow was turning rapidly to renewed desire in her. Still, however, guilt gnawed at her. He seemed to read her very thoughts:

"And if your conscience is troubling you, think of this. You've had a really crap time for many, many years. Everyone's entitled to kick back against that. You've been clever and discreet enough to find a way to do that that means that you can have tested yourself out without anyone ever having to know. That's so much better than stumbling into some sort of ill-thought through affair that can hurt lots of people, or just you getting ever more frustrated and taking it out on your husband..."

"I've never taken it out on Alistair!"

"Not directly, I'm sure. But, it doesn't sound as though you and he were exactly on the same wavelength sexually. Don't you think just a bit of your reluctance sometimes was more about being angry with yourself -- and that hurt him?

She subsided.

"Right. And now you know a little bit more about the lady underneath, the one with the huge libido, you can do something about it. Do it sensibly, and gradually. Just start to get that bit more adventurous with him. I've no idea how far it'll go, but you'll both be lots happier -- even if you don't do any more seducing of innocent young men in hotel bars..."

She brooded on what he'd said. There seemed little credible response. There was no going back from what had been done, so the sensible thing to do was make the most of the situation.

While she pondered, she felt his hand inching down the length of her back, approaching her rump. On the culmination of it's travels, it began to caress her. At first, his touch felt consoling, reassuring. Then, it slowly began to arouse her. She shifted on him, moving upward, causing his fingers to move close to her vulva.

He studied her face, trying to assess her intent. Rachael thought some guidance was in order.

"Well, if you're right, Mr "Y"...I'm well into the territory of "being hung for a sheep as for a lamb". And I suppose I can settle the question of whether I really have let loose my inner nymphomaniac very quickly"

His grin was almost fatherly, she thought; ridiculous. She moved to kiss him, but before her mouth found his, she whispered by his ear:

"Thank you. I was very lucky it was you I opted to be with tonight."

She crushed her mouth to his. When they parted, it was his turn to whisper

"Now go and sort yourself out -- you look like a panda. A very sexy panda, but definitely a panda"

It took a moment for Rachael to understand that her tears had inflicted massive damage on her eye make-up. She rolled over him, and stood

"Don't go away"

This time, she felt no urge to examine herself. She washed her face, removing the unfamiliar kohl and blusher. She unhooked the string of beads from her waist, and, hesitatingly briefly, bent to undo the ankle straps of those improbable shoes. She rolled the stockings down her legs. Only then did she inspect herself; the Rachael that looked back looked much more like the image to which she was accustomed.

But not quite the same. There was an animation, and liveliness that she thought normally absent. Her eyes (were they really beautiful?) twinkled. Working quickly, Rachael found the make-up bag she'd left in there when highlighting her lower lips. Now she applied that same shade to those of her mouth, followed by her every day eye-shadow etc. albeit applied somewhat more liberally than was her daily practice.

"There" she thought. "Now let's see what the everyday Rachael can do for him -- and herself." She hesitated. Maybe not quite the everyday Rachael...she slipped her feet back into her high heels, and refastened the straps. "I'm not quite ready to drop entirely out of character" she muttered.

Back into the room. As he surveyed her, she still felt no urge to hide any part of herself; and she felt his salacious grin as affirmation.

As she climbed onto the bed to join him, she couldn't resist commenting

"And that's what you'd have got if you'd picked me up when I came in from the car" "no less desirable. I hope your husband realises he's a lucky man."

"If he doesn't now, I'll remind him gradually..."

They knelt, facing each other. He began to stroke her breasts and thighs. She eased her thighs apart, to allow him access, before clasping her hands behind her back. It gave him unfettered free reign. His right hand was gradually insinuating it's way towards her slit; his left was gently rubbing her right nipple.

"I meant everything I said, you know. You've got a body most 25 year olds would kill for. And you're what -- 33? 35?

"Mr Y, you should know better than to ask a lady her age." His right index finger was now gently stimulating her clitoris, sending soft ripples through her lower body. "But I'll make an exception for you. I'm 42"

He appeared genuinely surprised. Together, they fell back on the bed. He dropped head and sucked on her nipples, placed hand between her legs, stroking. She began to manipulate him.

"Mrs X, for one of such advanced years, you're a very demanding lady."

"I thought all younger men fantasised about meeting a randy older woman."

"I promise you'll be the subject of my fantasies for years to come; I'll be remembering everything we did, and imagining everything else we might have."

"So will I."

"Tell me what you'll be imagining. I'll trade you one for one"

She thought.

"Well there'd be just doing lots more of what we've already done. Plus maybe your not having stopped me when I had you in my mouth earlier."

"Damn. I was thinking about that one. How about me having had you from behind, with you on your hands and knees?"

"That one doesn't have to stay imagined..I was hoping we'd try that one next? Hmm. What else. I could have sat you down in a chair and we did it with me sitting on your lap."

He was beginning to harden; she felt her lubrication starting to flow again.

"Not bad. Or you bent over leaning in the table?"

"I thought at one point you were about to do that. When you were first feeling me, just when we started. I was quite looking forward to it. How about, I'd not told you to wait before you came up; I could have started on you in the corridor."

"Promising. I'm not sure how it would have come about, but one idea that I'd really have loved...you noticed little Magda in the bar? I cold imagine the two of you together, that would get me very, very worked up?"

Rachael couldn't immediately think of a response. The idea was too alien for her.

He smiled at her.

"That one got you, didn't it? There'll be a forfeit to pay..."

She was attempting to envisage the scene, and failing. He continued

"Well, that'd be a definite Mrs X scene, not a Rachael one maybe..."

That gave her the cue for a response:

"So now, I'm a respectable married woman who's not only in the habit of sleeping with strangers, but who's going around seducing the staff into lesbian affairs. Is there no limit to what you think I'd be capable of?

"I really don't know what you're capable of...and neither do you. Now, about that forfeit". He pushed her head downward to his groin. This time she was not overly concerned with how it felt for her; her concern was to make it as good as possible for him. He was already fully erect, so she took the plump head between her lips, and began. It seemed no less effective than last time. Within moments, his hand on the back of her head was dictating a rhythm, which she matched with her own hand on the shaft.

He lay backward on the bed. His hands moved to her hips, and he drew her into a position where her groin was over his face. Then, pulling her downward slightly, he raised his head and began again to lick at her.

So, this was what "69" was like. She revelled in the twin sensations of what he was doing to her, and the bulky feel of his cock-head in her mouth. The truth was, though, it was awkward. Her torso was short compared to his, making it difficult to maintain both points of contact at the same time. Still...it went on for a considerable, and highly pleasurable time. The limitations worked remarkably effectively to keep both of them some way from coming, and hence able to focus on what they were doing for the other. He moved first, but it was by mutual consent that they separated. It was unilaterally, though that she reversed herself on the bed, raising her rump in the air, as she poised herself on knees and elbows.

Rachael heard him moving behind her, then past her to the bedside table. She turned to watch him don a condom; she considered stopping him, as considered earlier, but refrained. That would have been a step too far.

Behind her again, she felt him pause, pressing lightly on her entrance.

"Ready?"

"Very..."

He slid in smoothly embedding himself to the hilt, before commencing a slow and controlled motion. Without exchanging a word, it was obvious that they both intended to savour this one. Even so, Rachael couldn't stop herself twisting back against him, stirring her interior. He responded by varying the line of his thusts. Several times she sensed him consciously slowing himself in order to delay his climax. She felt a wordless rush of affection, his restraint allowing her own excitement time to build. And build it did. After some indeterminate time, her tipping point was near. Rachael was ready. Her skin seemed hypersenstitised, emphasising the sensation of her heavy breasts swaying below her. His need was growing urgent once more, she knew. She reached behind her, taking his right hand from her hip, pressing it to her groin. He understood. His fingers found her clitoris. It worked. Within seconds she was coming, he only momentarily behind her. Exultant, she rode the waves of her pleasure. No doubt now that they were the result of anything but good, old fashioned, honest lust.

Their movements slowed to a halt, and as they did, he settled back. His cock slipped from her. Sated as she now was, she felt no sense of loss. She dropped heavily onto her side, and he moved to join her. They lay silent for some minutes. Eventually, he spoke.

"Do you want me to stay? For the rest of the night?"

Rachael considered.

"No. It's best if you go. It's been wonderful, and I owe you more than I can say, but it'll be better if that's it, now."

He nodded, rising. She watched as he moved around the room, dressing. Once fully clothed, he sat beside her.

"Well, Mrs "X", it was an unbelievable night. The best sex I've ever known, whether it was with Mrs "X", or with Rachael. Or both.

He bent down, and kissed he forehead. She couldn't bring herself to speak. He continued.

"Just remember that. You're a fantastically sexy lady, and you don't need to hide from that. Just enjoy it".

He reached past her, taking the notepad from the bedside table and a pen from his pocket.

"This is my number. If you ever should want to call it, do. Even if it's just to talk. Of course, if it's more, like seeing you again, I'd be ecstatic."

With that, he stood, moving to the door, and closing it softly behind him. As it did, Rachael lifted herself, placing he feet by the bed. She undid the improbable shoes, before habit reasserted itself. She visited the bathroom, brushing her teeth. Once in there, she noted her mobile phone where she'd left it what seemed like a lifetime earlier. She turned it on. Back in the bedrooom, she found herself flipping off the lightswitch, then rolling back under the covers. As she settled into the warmth, her sense of satiation overcame her. She should, she thought, be wracked with doubts and guilt. She felt none. The phone bleeped. A missed call, from a friend's number. It could wait, she decided, until morning. In fact, everything to do with the rest of her life could wait until morning

Chapter6

The wipers were smearing the November rain over the windscreen, making navigating all the harder on the unlit road. Just as well he'd left in plenty of time, Patrick mused. He was approaching a T-junction. Good; that was as per the instructions – now, take a right, and expect a gentle left-hand curve. His confidence in the direction was increasing all the time. Take the next right, and down the village high-street – such as it was. And there was the landmark he was looking for – The Crown Inn. He was to turn down the side, and after a few hundred meters, there was his destination. Turn in past the last cottage, and he was there.