Podcasts about apologising

Summary In this conversation, Andrew Beveridge speaks with Brad Englert, founder of Brad Englert Advisory and author of 'Spheres of Influence'. They discuss the importance of mentorship, building genuine relationships in business, and the significance of understanding both internal and external spheres of influence. Brad shares insights from his extensive experience in IT and leadership, emphasising the need for proactive customer service, the power of apology, and the challenges of influencing without formal authority. The discussion also touches on the dynamics of hybrid work environments and the importance of maintaining connections in a remote setting. Learn more about Brad and access a free chapter of his book - https://bradenglert.com/podcast/   Takeaways Mentorship is a two-way street, involving both giving and receiving. Understanding your boss's expectations is crucial for success. Building genuine relationships can lead to long-term success. Proactive customer service is more effective than reactive fire drills. Apologising can build trust and strengthen relationships. Long-term relationships can lead to unexpected opportunities. Creating a positive organisational culture requires clear communication and values. Navigating crises requires preparation and strong relationships. Influencing others without authority is a key leadership skill. Hybrid work environments require intentional relationship-building.   Chapters 00:11 Introduction to Brad Englert 03:26 Understanding Spheres of Influence 10:13 Building Genuine Relationships 16:24 Cultural Transformation in IT 23:04 Navigating Crisis and Change 28:58 The Power of Apology 32:24 Communication and Clarity in Leadership 36:52 Understanding Expectations and Influencing Upwards 39:29 Building Customer Relationships 45:02 Influencing Without Authority 48:46 Navigating Hybrid Work Environments 51:59 Looking Ahead: The Future of Leadership

Adam McKola, Rory Jennings & Buvey take calls from the viewers, including debating whether signing Kylian Mbappe has backfired for Real Madrid, discussing who the most overrated manager in the world is and more!Join The Club: https://linktr.ee/theclubliveIf you'd like to work with us, email the studio onworkwiththeclub@fellasstudios.comProduced by The Fellas Studios: https://fellasstudios.com/podcasts Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Stop Apologising for Your Fees: How Estate Agents Can Command the Value They Deserve! As an estate agent, do you find yourself constantly justifying your fees? It's time to stop! In this episode, Steph Walker, boss lady of TAUK and self-employed estate agent expert, explains why estate agents shouldn't apologise for the value they provide. Steph dives into the key issue: fees. The truth is, most clients aren't just shopping for the cheapest option—they want value and expertise. Armed with insights from the Property Academy's annual vendor survey, she reveals why clients are willing to pay more for a top-tier service. What's covered in the episode: - The surprising truth about how clients really view fees. - Why being selective about your clients is crucial for success. - How to talk confidently about fees without compromising on value. - Why the self-employed agency model is changing the game. - A little humour goes a long way—Steph's tips for negotiating fees with confidence. If you're ready to stop undervaluing your service and start attracting clients who truly value what you do, watch this video! Let us know in the comments what your thoughts are on fees—do you still find it hard to charge what you're worth?

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has issued an apology after hundreds of its members criticised it for not supporting an Oscar winner who was recently detained by Israeli settlers. Hamdan Ballal, one of the co-directors of Oscar-winning documentary No Other Land, was attacked and detained by the Israeli military. Flicks.co.nz editor Steve Newall says a number of high-profile members signed the rebuke, including Mark Ruffalo, Emma Thompson, Penélope Cruz and Javier Bardem. LISTEN ABOVESee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Adam Lovgren joins me in the season opener to talk about how the US is going about now. We recorded just after the California fires and we discussed these, and our kids moving on without us. We then get into … Continue reading →

Send us a textLet's be real — apologizing is hard. Saying "sorry" isn't just about admitting you were wrong; it's about repairing trust and showing the people you care about that they matter more than your pride. In this episode, we're getting personal about why apologizing feels so uncomfortable and how to move past that discomfort to make a real, meaningful connection.Hilary and Jaxson open up about their own struggles with apologizing — the defensiveness, the awkwardness, and that gut reaction to say, "But I didn't mean it!" They dive into the common mistakes we all make when trying to apologize (like deflecting, making excuses, or offering half-hearted "fine, I'm sorry" moments) — and why those approaches just don't work.But here's the good news: there's a simple but powerful way to get it right. Enter the "Sorry Sandwich" — a practical, step-by-step way to take ownership of your actions, express genuine regret, and commit to doing better. This episode is honest, relatable, and packed with insights that will help you show up differently in your relationships — whether it's with your partner, your friends, or even at work.Tune in to learn how to apologize with authenticity and rebuild trust where it matters most. Have you had to give (or receive) a tough apology lately? DM us — we'd love to hear how it went!Get ready to unlock your inner light and start healing from within!And if you have any comments on the show, any questions you might want answered, or you just want to connect - reach out to us directly @hilary.conroy and @drjaxsonwearingWe're here to help you understand the full power that breathwork can have on your physical and mental health - Jaxson is hosting our Creative Conscious Breathwork sessions, using a combination of energy work and sound healing practices to elevate your consciousness: https://www.luminousbody.co/eventsUnsure of where to start on your own stress management path? We get it - with so much information out there, even dealing with stress starts to sound… well, stressful! We've created a FREE e-book for you that gives our best practical advice and actionable strategies to learn how to regulate your emotions and create a well-balanced and resilient mindset! https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KfFguWPKblTAkKdrmgR66FDxlFnIHBeX/view?usp=drivesdkIf you're ready to start your holistic health journey, we'd love to help you take that first step - feel free to contact us for any information or to book your appointment now: https://www.luminousbody.co/All information that is provided in this episode is general, with t...

Ever feel like you're juggling flaming chainsaws while tap dancing on a tightrope? Welcome to the wild world of early motherhood!  In this eye-opening chat with perinatal mental health specialist Kayce Hodos, we dive into the nitty-gritty of setting boundaries and managing family dynamics when you've got tiny humans running the show. In this episode Suzanne and Kayce discuss: The Boundary Balancing Act Why "just trust your instincts" isn't always the best advice How to communicate your needs without feeling guilty The art of saying "no" to unsolicited advice (and MLM essential oils) Parenting Perfectionism: The Ultimate Trap Your kids might actually love that makeshift Christmas tree on a clotheshorse Apologising to your children isn't a sign of weakness The "best" parenting style is the one that works for your family From Toddler Tantrums to Teenage Angst Why parenting doesn't necessarily get "easier" - just different The importance of clear communication as your kids grow How to navigate the ever-changing landscape of friendships and social dynamics Whether you're in the trenches of nappy changes or navigating the murky waters of adolescence, this episode offers a refreshing, no-BS take on motherhood. It's time to ditch the guilt, embrace the chaos, and remember that sometimes, the "best" Mother is simply the one who shows up and tries her best. Ready to reclaim your sanity and set some boundaries? Tune in now! Find out more about Kayce here: https://kaycehodos.com  Find out more about Suzanne here: https://www.suzanneculberg.com For exclusive content, including a private solo podcast, join Suzanne's Patreon here: https://www.patreon.com/suzanneculberg Enjoy my podcast? You'll love my emails, sign up here: https://www.suzanneculberg.com/newsletter Join Networking without Schmooze with Laura & Suze, Register here - https://networkingwithoutschmooze.substack.com/ Want to be a guest on The Nope Coach podcast? Send Suzanne Culberg a message on PodMatch, here: https://www.podmatch.com/hostdetailpreview/thenopecoach A simple way to make my day – please subscribe to my YouTube channel - https://www.youtube.com/@suzanneculberg?sub_confirmation=1 The Nope coach Suzanne Culberg teaches you how to put yourself first without feeling selfish, by setting healthy boundaries and reclaiming the unapologetic badass you long to be. Contact Suzanne here: https://www.suzanneculberg.com/contact      

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. 'I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. 'I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

What Do I Say When I'm Not Sorry? Today's caller doesn't know what to say when she is NOT sorry for existing. Last Chance Tottie Bags for Xmas! - Watch our Christmas Show: We Don't Have Time For Christmas. - If you want more of us in your week, you can subscribe to MORE TIME FOR THIS for more eps and giveaways all month long: Apple — https://apple.co/wedonthavetimeforthis Spotify — https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/moretimeforthis

Send us a textIn this powerful episode of the Soulful Leaders in Business podcast, host Laura Beddoe-Collins shares game-changing strategies for transforming your public speaking skills. Whether you're pitching to clients or presenting at conferences, discover how to captivate your audience while staying true to your authentic self.Key Highlights:The power of knowing your audience deeply before crafting your messageHow to practice with purpose beyond mere rehearsalUsing body language to project confidence naturallyWhy your unique voice is as distinctive as your fingerprintThe rule of three for creating memorable contentEssential Do's:✅ Market Research: Understanding your audience before stepping on stage✅ Intentional Practice: Mastering delivery, pauses, and eye contact✅ Body Language: Using open gestures and confident posture✅ Storytelling: Weaving personal narratives that resonate✅ Voice Projection: Using your unique voice as a powerful toolCritical Don'ts:❌ Starting without a clear, powerful opening❌ Apologising or downplaying your expertise❌ Overwhelming audiences with too much information❌ Using complex jargon instead of accessible language❌ Reading directly from slides or notesSuccess Tips: Learn why none of the Soul Speaks Live Summit speakers needed cue cards or scripts - and how you can achieve the same level of natural confidence.Special Announcement: Soul Speaks Academy is for heart-led entrepreneurs ready to master their speaking skills. Join the Soul Speaks Academy.Timestamps: 00:00 Introduction to public speaking impact 01:55 Understanding your audience 03:25 Practice with purpose 10:05 Common mistakes to avoid 16:10 It isn't a script16:36 Final tips and implementation strategiesReady to transform your speaking skills and amplify your impact? Learn more about the Soul Speaks Academy.The podcast for innovative and progressive thought leaders anchored in their authority, unapologetically. Creating Leaders, Building Legacies, Maximising Profit. You no longer have to apologise for wanting to stand out as a female leader here.P.S. If you are interested in building a community with people who share your values to collaborate, we host networking sessions globally, virtually & in-person every month in Brighton, East Sussex. IN PERSON NETWORKING, EAST SUSSEX - Register Here VIRTUAL NETWORKING EVENT - Register HereHope to meet you soon!Support the show

Mea culpas and Christmas time!

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This is a catch-up version of James O'Brien's Mystery Hour. To join the game, call 0345 60 60 973, Thursdays at 12pm.

On this episode.... People who sell happiness, the death of the newspapers and where to and not to live.Send in your "Clueless questions" to aintgotacluepodcast@gmail.comFor early add free access to all episodes and bonus bits:1 - Apple Podcasts - Click here or Tap Try Free on the Apple Podcasts app for a three day free trial.2 - Via Patreon by clicking herehttps://www.patreon.com/aintgotaclue/Follow AGAC on...Tik Tok- https://www.tiktok.com/@aintgotacluepodYouTube- https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYz3U9CDm_xhBpmRWN3I9TwInstagram- https://instagram.com/aintgotacluepod

Apologising is a fine art, but most people don't know how to do it.How do you sound sincere, or how do you apologise when you don't mean it?Terry Prone, Chairman of the Communications Clinic (and an expert on apologising) joins guest host Tom Dunne to discuss.

South Africa Rugby has offered a mea culpa for the haka being drowned out by music, fireworks and a plane on Sunday morning. They have conceded the cacophony shouldn't have happened, writing an apology and explaining the gaffe was a result of human error and a failure to observe scheduling. Sportstalk's D'Arcy Waldegrave unpacks the statement. LISTEN ABOVESee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

‘From now on, I have decided I'm not sorry for my motherhood. I won't apologise any more for having kids and wanting a career too.' So wrote Freelance Writer and Manic Mummy, Emma Armstrong who spoke to Shane this morning on the show.

This week on the Raw Politics podcast: Financial woes at Health New Zealand and the Royal Commission report challenges the Government's gang crackdown-------------------Recommendations:Sam: Analysis from Derek Cheng at the NZ Herald on how the Royal Commission's recommendations will clash with the Government's prioritiesLaura: Marc Daalder's reporting on why the Government's renewable energy promise has been side-tracked by fast-track workMarc: Jack Tame's probing interview on Q+A with Climate Change Minister Simon Watts Raw Politics will be available on Apple podcasts or wherever you get your favourite shows every Friday..-------------------Raw Politics will be available wherever you get your podcasts every Friday, and you can watch it on YouTube.

It can be tricky: why & what's the solution to being empowered within your gift?  Get Free tips, tools, techniques, weekly. Free Master Daily Energetic Protection online workshop. Energy: For Highly Sensitive or Empathic People. In this episode covering: Shouldering responsibility for other's feelings & moods; Being in the habit of putting others first, constantly seeking to please them;  Concerning yourself with people's opinions of you and your choices, that aren't important to you; Internally crumbling when you state your needs; Apologising for being yourself; Being resentful of the masks that you wear & roles that you play. You'll find me most @shamanicreikiuk on IG. Reignite Your Inner Spark Free Online On Demand Workshops.

Today, we talk to the powerhouse that is Jennifer Esposito. Actor, writer, producer and director of the summer's most-talked about cinematic debut Fresh Kills, Esposito is an unstoppable force. And we want more more more. In this episode, we talk women's compulsive need to apologise, and what that does to us and our self-worth. Esposito discusses what she's done to break that cycle, and to help other women do the same. We talk the realities of being a woman in Hollywood, and what it takes to get a project like Fresh Kills to the screen. In Esposito's case, 15 years and re-mortgaged home. Fresh Kills is currently in cinemas across the US and is an absolute life-changer. Hurry to watch, our friends across the pond! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Get Tara's New Book Now! STOP APOLOGISING. Click Here Connect with Tara Rule on LinkedIn. Connect with Paul M. Caffrey on LinkedIn. Get your copy of "The Work Before the Work, The Hidden Habits Elite Sales Professionals Use to Outperform the Competition." p.s. I'm looking for 5 Account Executives looking to Exceed Quota and Get Promoted in 2024. Message me the phrase "90" on LinkedIn Paul M. Caffrey on LinkedIn. Summary Tara Rule discusses her book 'Stop Apologizing' and the importance of silencing your inner critic, finding confidence, and reframing apologies. She explains that the book was inspired by the prevalence of apologizing in society and the impact it has on individuals' success. Rule emphasizes the need to address the root causes of apologizing and offers exercises and frameworks to help readers overcome self-doubt and limiting beliefs. She also provides practical tips for elegant interruption, reframing language, and making decisions. Rule highlights the importance of positive intent, assertive communication, and hope as a strategy for achieving goals. Takeaways Silencing your inner critic and reframing apologies can lead to increased confidence and success.Addressing the root causes of apologizing is essential for personal growth and development.Practical exercises and frameworks can help individuals overcome self-doubt and limiting beliefs.Elegant interruption techniques can be used to assertively communicate without apologizing.Positive intent and hope can serve as strategies for achieving goals and overcoming obstacles.

ARSENAL THUMP SPURS IN THE NLD, OVER THE TOP CELEBRATIONS & APOLOGISING TO PLAYERS #letemshoottv #arsenal #manchestercity #premierleague #liverpool # #crystalpalace #astonvilla #tottenham #eriktenhag #1ff  #onefuturefootballCHAPTERS:0:00 Introduction 1:54 Tottenham vs Arsenal 20:48 West Ham vs Liverpool 44:17 Nottingham Forrest vs City 50:04 Race for Europe 59:48 Inter Celebrations Too Far?1:06:19 Issuing Apologies to PlayersONE FUTURE FOOTBALL:https://1ff.com/register?referral=LetEmShootLISTEN ON SPOTIFY:https://open.spotify.com/show/7CR3t35...LISTEN ON APPLE PODCASTS:https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast...LEAVE US A REVIEW AND 5 STARS IF YOU LOVED THE CONTENT.LET EM SHOOT.TV is a representation and voice for the youth of Australia. Content inspired by numerous influences, we try our best to bridge the gap between football and culture in the country and provide a voice for like-minded creatives.If you enjoyed this video, make sure you smash the like button, subscribe and turn on your notification bell to never miss a thing.Cast IG and TikTok Handles:@tomclachlan@badreldinabbas@pengesttekkers@wagwanmj@juju_jereminho@danaigapare@krissabobissa@rileyangelosante10Edited by:@Let Em Shoot TVCreative Direction:@Let Em Shoot TVFind us on:Instagramhttps://instagram.com/letemshoot.tv?i...  TikTokhttps://www.tiktok.com/@letemshoot.tv...Emailletemshoot.tv@gmail.com

In this episode, Anna Parker-Naples discusses the idea of not apologising for taking a break from her podcast and encourages listeners to reflect on when they feel the need to apologize for doing what is right for themselves. She explores the conditioning that leads us to believe we must always push ourselves and shows the importance of listening to our bodies and prioritizing our own needs. Anna also shares her excitement about her breathwork certification program and the positive feedback she has received. She concludes by urging listeners to stop apologizing for things they don't need to apologise for.Chapters00:00 No Apology03:22 Conditioning to Apologize06:41 Listening to Our Bodies09:38 Validation and Feedback11:32 Trusting Joy and Priorities14:22 Creating Something Special14:51 No More ApologiesResourcesFor Anna Parker-NaplesWebsite: www.annaparkernaples.comInstagram www.instagram.com/annaparkernaplesFacebook www.facebook.com/annaparkernaplesLinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/annaparkernaplesTikTok: www.tiktok.com/@annaparkernaples For Influential Breathwork®️Website www.influentialbreathwork.comCertification www.influentialbreathwork.com/influentialbreathworkcoachInstagram www.instagram.com/influentialbreathworkFor Influential Audio - The Podcast Agency Website: www.influentialaudio.comInstagram www.instagram.com/influentialaudio

Asia correspondent Diane To speaks to Lisa Owen about officials in China apologising to journalists, 12 people from Hong Kong being slapped with multiple years in prison for rioting in 2019 and the Sunflower Student Movement.

Apologising is never easy but the book of Genesis 32&33 teaches us how --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/golidefm/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/golidefm/support

Rob and Lach rate and discuss two pillows, building a house, repeat pod guests, Fred Again, letterbox dropping, man buns, apologising, leaving work to pick up kid(s), hat collections + note taking. This episode is proudly brought to you by ⁠PaySquad⁠ ~ Buy Now, Pay Together. Group Payments Without the Hassle. Subscribe to our Dream Big Social Club NEWSLETTER to stay up to date with all things Funny Business + more ~ ⁠⁠⁠https://dreambigsocialclub.beehiiv.com/subscribe⁠⁠⁠ Web ~ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://linktr.ee/funnybusinesspodcast⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Instagram ~ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/funnybusiness_au/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ LinkedIn ~ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Lach⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ / ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Rob⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ CONTACT ME (Lach) ~ ⁠⁠⁠⁠lach@dreambigsocialclub.com⁠⁠⁠⁠

Do you know how and when to say sorry in English? Patreon: patreon.com/learnenglishwithben - For transcripts, comprehension quizzes, and discounted group classes, join the fan club. Instagram: instagram.com/learnenglishwithben Website: learnenglishwithben.com Email: learnenglishwithben88@gmail.com - send me an email if you're interested in classes - either group or private Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Do you know how and when to say sorry in English?Patreon: patreon.com/learnenglishwithben - For transcripts, comprehension quizzes, and discounted group classes, join the fan club.Instagram: instagram.com/learnenglishwithbenWebsite: learnenglishwithben.comEmail: learnenglishwithben88@gmail.com - send me an email if you're interested in classes - either group or private Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Join Jeff Lucas as he uses his own unique brand of humour and storytelling to help us understand God's truth, whatever life throws at us.

Simon comes in hot with some "content" about margarine and he and Lee discuss health stuff (again), before transitioning into body fat content and (unrelated) a discussion about making ciabatta.Some other details from the episode: Apologising at the beginning of something, attribution and circulation of ideas in dance, saying 'fuck' in multiple languages, margarine trigger warnings, Lee reminisces on learning how to bake, Simon's LDLs and a low saturated fat diet, the difference between statins and stents, Lee's gallbladder (and gallbladders in general), peanut butter being good for you, Lee's body signals as a guide to modifying his diet, Simon really liking butter, brussells sprouts recipes, foul-smelling green smoothies, Michael Fassbender and yoga, The Killer (film), Ben Affleck in The Accountant, George Clooney in The American, skinfolds and fatfolds, being too thin, Lee's Madonna phase, Apple's 'memories' feature, making ciabatta, and how everything on Amazon has 4.5 stars, and enshittification (Cory Doctorow).Related links (and necessary corrections):How statins work: https://www.healthline.com/health/high-cholesterol/how-do-statins-workHealth benefits of red wine: https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/265635#benefitsMeasuring body fat with underwater weighing: https://www.verywellfit.com/what-is-hydrostatic-underwater-weighing-3120276Enshittification: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EnshittificationGet in touch with Lee and Simon at info@midlifing.net. ---The Midlifing logo is adapted from an original image by H.L.I.T: https://www.flickr.com/photos/29311691@N05/8571921679 (CC BY 2.0)

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest.  [[MORE]] It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The Manor In The WoodsBy FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed.Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well.‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested.‘Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion.Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years.Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him.Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness.Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village.Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself.As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills.'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved.'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?''Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own.'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway.'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like.'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered.'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her?'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share.'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.''Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing.'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.''Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask.'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed.'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on.'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before.'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose.'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard.'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head.'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host.'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly.'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow.'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.''How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story.Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited.'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet.Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished.'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours.By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous.Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him.'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?'Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband.'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience.'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.'With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor.'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom.'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?''Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?''No!' she gasped quickly.'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?''I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body.'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred.'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.''Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness.'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself.With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with.Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan.Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event.Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs.The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise.'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making.'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible.'Is everything okay?' he asked gently.'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead.'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded.It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more.'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.''I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate.'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.''He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.''Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children?Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched.'Hey,' he growled.'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly.'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed.'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked.'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went.'Yes, in the photo on your phone.''Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.''Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web.'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.''Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.To be continued in Part 3By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The government is making a formal apology to the victims of thalidomide today. Thalidomide was a drug given to pregnant women in the 50s and 60s to treat morning sickness, it was then discovered to cause birth defects in unborn children. In this episode of The Briefing Katrina Blowers speaks to thalidomide survivor, Trish Jackson about what the apology means to her and her family.   Headlines: More Israeli hostages and Palestinians released as ceasefire continues Update on Bruce Lehrmann defamation trial 41 Indian workers rescued from tunnel after 17 days   Follow The Briefing:Instagram: @thebriefingpodcast Facebook: TheBriefingNewsAUTwitter: @TheBriefingAU  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

There is no hiding in this solosode as I share how I approached a leadership mistake with a focus on being proactive and rebuilding trust. I took full accountability - and it hurt! But it was the right thing to do and the only way to move forward. In this episode I also talk about above and below the line leadership behaviours and their ripple effect, role modelling ethics and values as a leader and what we can learn from a ‘mystery poo'!  Shownotes See more at http://www.zoerouth.com/podcast/leadership-integrity-zoe-routh Key Moments  Planet Human: The heaviness of a world at war; connecting the micro to the macro  Planet Zoë: Olympus Bound update with fantastic feedback from my beta readers, travel, family and working with clients in WA.  The Mystery Poo (00:04:44) Discussion about a situation involving a mystery poo in a wilderness expedition and the challenges of taking ownership and responsibility. The Missing First Aid Kit (00:08:24) An example of taking ownership, accountability, and responsibility for a mistake Shame, Humiliation, and Regret (00:09:11) Reflection on the impact of shame, humiliation, and embarrassment. Apologising to the group (00:12:41) Taking the initiative and accountability. Leadership responsibility (00:14:48) The importance of taking ownership, accountability, and responsibility for mistakes and the positive impact it can have on relationships and the world.

In this weeks episode, we delve into Theo Mayne's inspiring journey of self-acceptance and life after his television experience on BBC1's 'The Traitors'. Join us as we explore the empowering idea of not apologising for who you truly are and embracing your authentic self. Theo Mayne shares his personal story and valuable insights that will resonate with anyone on a quest for self-discovery and living life unapologetically. You can find Theo on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/theomayne1/?hl=en Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Vicky Leonard joined Racing Pulse on Thursday, with Kick Up For Racing moving to address the "misinformation" surrounding the reason why the Melbourne Cup parade won't be held this year.

The behind-the-scenes scoop on Roman Reigns... Simon Miller presents 10 Fascinating WWE Backstage Facts About Roman Reigns...ENJOY!Follow us on Twitter:@SimonMiller316@WhatCultureWWEFor more awesome content, check out: whatculture.com/wwe Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Dr. Dunni explores the power of apology and its impact on relationships. She emphasises that apologising does not mean admitting fault or being wrong, but rather a recognition of the value placed on the relationship. Dr. Dunni shares her personal experiences and discusses the importance of apologising to oneself, to others, and even to children. She highlights the healing and transformative nature of apologies, encouraging listeners to prioritise their well-being and foster peaceful connections.  KEY TAKEAWAYS Apologising is not always about admitting fault or being wrong. It is a way to value the relationship more than the situation that caused the conflict. As well as to others, apologising to oneself is important, for personal growth and for healing. It involves acknowledging mistakes, forgiving oneself, and expressing self-love. If you can apologise to others, even when you are not at fault, it can help maintain and repair relationships. It shows that you value the relationship more than being right. Apologising to children is important for teaching them the value of an apology and resolving conflicts. It helps foster love, peace, and connection within the parent-child relationship. Apologising is a powerful tool for maintaining well-being and promoting healthy relationships. It allows for reflection, forgiveness, and the opportunity to move forward in a positive way. BEST MOMENTS "Apologising is something that we do when we want to make peace." "Sometimes it's a step and it's a realisation that you value that relationship more than you value the situation that has caused the discord." "I am sorry for, and you say whatever it is you're sorry for. The way you apologise to someone, so I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for coming late, I'm sorry for not picking you up, I'm sorry for not getting the food ready on time, I'm sorry for ignoring you."  "It is a realisation that you value that relationship more than you value the situation that has led to that conflict."  "Sometimes it's needed because for a conflict to have happened there are some contributing factors and your contribution might have made things worse. You can apologise for that contributing element that has made it worse." The burnout checklist- https://forms.gle/Re3E2FeEjuLEMvWJ6 The Working Mothers handbook: 8 keys - www.drdunni.com/handbook bit.ly/w4mclub https://patreon.com/wellbeing4mothers  Ig- https://www.instagram.com/druwa.lifecoach/ YouTube- https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9C1oJwHyISEuqiX8USaYKg CH- https://www.clubhouse.com/@drdunni-druwa FB- https://www.facebook.com/druwaacademy Twitter- https://twitter.com/Druwa8 Patreon - https://patreon.com/wellbeing4mothers  Your host Dr Dunni is the award-winning mum empowerment coach, Family doctor, International speaker, Best-selling author of the book ‘Every Mum is a super mum' and a mum herself who is passionate about health and wellbeing. She is proficient in using natural, scientific, and medical well-being concepts to explain in simple terms practical ways and strategies to avoid ill health and promote the overall well-being of body, mind, soul, and spirit. This is made available by the provision of online courses, books, coaching and regular events where well-being strategies and tactics are shared to enhance holistic well-being. Learn more athttps://www.drdunni.comThis show was brought to you by Progressive Media

Last week Luke told a story from when we were kids about the time he said the most hurtful and brutal thing you could possibly say to someone... and it was to none other than our dad. This comment has stuck with him forever and the guilt has been eating him up inside ever since, so it was finally time for Luke to call dad to apologise for what he said. Does dad remember? Did it actually cut him deep at the time? This phone call unfolds to something so unbelievable. When it comes to who is the badass and who is the goody two shoes out of the two of us, you'll be able to make an educated guess after hearing about the vastly different encounters we've each had with the police. One involves underage grand theft auto, and the other involves carrying lots of heavy school books. We're starting a new game called 'Contact Casualties' - Scott hands his phone over to Luke where he blindly scrolls through Scott's contacts, stops on one, calls them without Scott knowing who it is, and he has to figure out who he's speaking to without asking the question point blank. Will it be the CEO of BP? Perhaps a cousin's ex girlfriend from a million years ago? Or will it be an old Grindr flame?   CREDITS: Hosts: Luke And Sassy Scott Producer: Mandy Catalano Supervising Producer: Lem Zakharia Executive Digital Producer: Oscar Gordon Social and Video Producer: Amy Code Video Editor: Bailey McCabe Audio imager: Nat Marshall Managing Producer: Sam Cavanagh Talent Manager: Kirsty KassabisSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Having originally cemented her status as one of the most famous fitness trainers in Australia courtesy of her role on The Biggest Loser, Michelle Bridges is the first to acknowledge many will always associate her with the legacy of a reality TV series now widely deemed problematic. In a frank and wide-ranging conversation, the personal trainer, TV personality and businesswoman responds to current-day criticism of the show and explains why she "won't wear it anymore". She also has a lot to say about the changes she is seeing in her own body as she settles into her early 50s; shares her thoughts on how her working-class background and being raised by a single mum in the 1970s have shaped her attitudes toward money and motherhood - and reflects on what she learned about herself after a DUI charge three years ago made national headlines. You can find out more about what Michelle is up to on her Instagram account @mishbridges or www.michellebridges.com.au.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Muireann and Emma this week can't avoid the apology video all the while remembering that something worse did happen. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The Premier League returned for 2023/24 this weekend and there were some big talking points. Howard Webb has already dished out his first apology of the season, Luton were given a chastening start to Premier League life and after the Caicedo drama between Liverpool and Chelsea, is there more to come between those two sides? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, we continue on the theme of apology. We talk about gender differences in apologising, the difficulty (at least in serious cases) of figuring out exactly what one has done wrong, the problems with the word 'apology' and the phrase 'I'm sorry', and the hope that an apology can restore a relationship.

Having discussed the issue of religious trauma this past week, turning to the subjects of apology and forgiveness seemed a natural transition. In this episode, I introduce the concept of apology and why it is problematic. In short, I think that many things put forth as 'apologies' fail to qualify as actual apologies, and often make things worse.

On the latest "Getting to Know the OT Guys", Shawn Siegele and Colm Kelly discuss a variety of non-football-related topics. The sporting heroes of their youth, their favorite baked goods, Colm admits his mistake, sleeper TV show recommendations, Plus a lot more! Subscribe to the RotoViz YouTube Channel here! HOSTS RotoViz Radio Executive Producer Colm Kelly (@OvertimeIreland) RotoViz co-owner Shawn Siegele (@FF_Contrarian) SPONSORS Listeners of RotoViz Radio can save 10% on a one-year RotoViz subscription by visiting RotoViz.com/podcast or by using the promotional code "rvradio2023" at the time of purchase. Underdog Fantasy - Get a 100% deposit match on your first deposit up to $100 when you sign up at Underdogfantasy.com using this link or the promo code ROTOVIZ. SHOW NOTES RotoViz Radio provides the power for RotoViz Overtime. Email: RotoVizRadio@gmail.com @RotoVizOvertime on Twitter Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On the latest "Getting to Know the OT Guys", Shawn Siegele and Colm Kelly discuss a variety of non-football-related topics. The sporting heroes of their youth, their favorite baked goods, Colm admits his mistake, sleeper TV show recommendations, Plus a lot more! Subscribe to the RotoViz YouTube Channel here! HOSTS RotoViz Radio Executive Producer Colm Kelly (@OvertimeIreland) RotoViz co-owner Shawn Siegele (@FF_Contrarian) SPONSORS Listeners of RotoViz Radio can save 10% on a one-year RotoViz subscription by visiting RotoViz.com/podcast or by using the promotional code "rvradio2023" at the time of purchase. Underdog Fantasy - Get a 100% deposit match on your first deposit up to $100 when you sign up at Underdogfantasy.com using this link or the promo code ROTOVIZ. SHOW NOTES RotoViz Radio provides the power for RotoViz Overtime. Email: RotoVizRadio@gmail.com @RotoVizOvertime on Twitter Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Are you constantly engaged in conflicts and disputes with others? If so, you must tune in to this episode of The Habit Coach podcast with Ashdin Doctor. Discover three effective habits shared by Ashdin that will empower you to triumph in any confrontation, and even preemptively secure victory before the battle begins.Going ahead we will meet you thrice a week- Monday, Wednesday & Friday on YouTube as well as on all audio streaming platforms. You can watch the full video episodes of The Habit Coach-Awesome 180 on the YouTube channel. You can also check out Ashdin's Linktree Page here: (https://linktr.ee/awesome180) You can follow Ashdin Doctor on Twitter | Linkedin | Instagram | FacebookCheck out the Awesome180 website: (http://awesome180.com/) Find the show across audio streaming apps:Spotify | Apple Podcasts | Google Podcasts | JioSaavn |  Amazon Music Do follow IVM Podcasts on social media.We are @ivmpodcasts on Facebook, Twitter, & Instagram.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Host Danny Kelly is joined by The Athletic's James Maw and Jack Pitt-Brooke to reflect on Kane's last-gasp winner... and the VAR controversy that followed. Plus, Bryan Gil's impact, 'What If' Marcus Edwards had never left Tottenham, what changed at half-time and what happens next as the panel preview Saturday's trip to Bournemouth and a box-office final group stage tie in Marseille.And don't forget to catch up with Tuesday's very special bonus podcast - An exclusive interview with Jurgen Klinsmann. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.