Podcasts about rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 18, 2024

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.

Christmas Passions: Part 2

Psychoanalysis On and Off the Couch

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 18, 2024

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.

Presents: Niels Arden Oplev, Writer/Director of 'Rose'

Film Ireland Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Sep 29, 2024 68:35

In this Film Ireland podcast, in partnership with access>CINEMA, Gemma Creagh talks to Niels Arden Oplev, Writer/Director of 'Rose', which is screening currently screening throughout Ireland, as well as access>CINEMA's Special Projects Officer Stephen McNeice. Set in the late '90s, Ellen and her new husband Van decide to tak e Ellen's older sister Inger on a bus trip to Paris where Inger once lived. Inger is schizophrenic, and lives in a care home coddled by her overprotective mother. Ellen sees their holiday as an opportunity to reconnect, and to find out if Inger might be able to live more independently. Inger herself has a hidden agenda for the trip – hoping to track down a lost love. 'Rose' is based on director Niels Arden Oplev's own family history and is full of feeling. Sofie Gråbøl's performance is the film's highlight. She inhabits Inger, bringing her to life and presenting all her complications, impulses and anxiety with grace. https://programme.accesscinema.ie/movie/rose-1 https://www.accesscinema.ie/ https://filmireland.net/

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A Sociologist/Psychoanalyst Writes a Novel/Memoir with Roberta Satow, PhD (Washington, CT)

Play Episode Listen Later Sep 22, 2024 60:46

“I was very interested in the unspoken thoughts and feelings of the patient because I think one of the things about free association is that in the beginning most of what's going on with the patient is unsaid. As the analysis evolves more and more of the unspoken becomes spoken and more of it becomes at the center of the analytic space. I wanted to show the evolution of the unsaid. At the beginning of the book, the unsaid is more than the said, and then it evolves as the analysis goes on.” Episode Description: We begin discussing Roberta's first career as a sociologist which she described as an effort to disengage from her self-focused ruminations. She pursued psychoanalytic training after receiving her PhD in sociology. She also continued as a writer of both fiction and non-fiction. Both genres represented her personal as well as other-oriented reflections. Her book Our Time is Up is likewise a combined memoir and novel – she both is and isn't the young woman 'Rose' whose analysis with ‘Joan' forms the essence of this work. She reads sections from the book that describe her first meeting with her analyst as well as when the analyst's illness is introduced into their treatment. The book concludes with 'Rose' saying, “Frida Kahlo said about Diego Rivera, ‘He took me shattered and returned me in one piece, whole.' I could say the same thing about Joan.” Our Guest: Roberta Satow is a practicing psychoanalyst in Washington, CT; a senior member of the National Psychological Association for Psychoanalysis and Professor Emerita of Sociology at Brooklyn College and the Graduate Center of the City University of New York. In addition to her non-fiction books Gender and Social Life and Doing the Right Thing: Taking Care of Your Elderly Parents Even if They Didn't Take Care of You, she has written two novels, Two Sisters of Coyoacan and Our Time is Up. Dr. Satow also writes blogs on Psychology Today and psychology.net. Recommended Readings: Roberta Satow, Our Time is Up, IPBooks, 2024. Roberta Satow, Two Sisters of Coyoacan, 2017. Roberta Satow, Doing the Right Thing: Taking Care of Your Elderly Parents Even if They Didn't Take Care of You (Tarcher/Penguin 2006). Roberta Satow, Psychology Today Blog. Roberta Satow, Psychotherapy Blog Roberta Satow, A Case of Severe Penis Envy: The Convergence of Cultural and Individual Intra-Psychic Factors, Journal of the American Acad. of Psychoan. October 1983.

Meaning of 'Raking in Profits' and 'Rose Colored Glasses'

English for Economists | English Lessons for Economics and Finance

Play Episode Listen Later Jun 24, 2024 6:19

Join Alan Robert as he explores the meaning of the expressions 'Raking in Profits' and 'Rose Colored Glasses'.

meaning profits glasses colored raking rose colored glasses rose'

The Rose of Soweto

The Morning Review with Lester Kiewit Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 30, 2024 8:32

Former world boxing champion Dingaan Thobela was found dead in Johannesburg on Monday aged 57 after suffering ill health, a family member told AFP. Known as the 'Rose of Soweto', he boxed professionally for 16 years from 1990 and claimed three world titles in two weight divisions.Thobela won the World Boxing Organization lightweight title in 1990, the World Boxing Association lightweight crown three years later and the World Boxing Council super-middleweight title in 2000. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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Chou

Le Clash Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Apr 11, 2024

Lors de cet épisode, je m'entretiens avec Charles, Bruno et Gabrielle de Chou! On jase de leur EP de reprises ‘'Rose'', la recherche sonore, youtube 18 et +, leur méthode d'enregistrement et de composition, la formation de Chou, ‘'Chou'' dans Norm & Dave, Contre-Chou, Folivora Records, leurs pochettes, artwork de Gabrielle et Bruno (Les Psycho Riders, Toby Laflamme) leurs anciens bands (SoundAsleep, Teen Seizure, Ignition Riot, Hommage à Minor Threat, Le Pire, Ouïes, Noise Idea), les titres d'albums et un 2e LP sous peu. Tous droits réservés aux artistes respectifs : CHOU- Chou – Mort Papa CHOU-Rose – Thermoplastique (Les Secrétaires Volantes) CHOU https://lebandchou.bandcamp.com/ TEEN SEIZURE https://teenseizure.bandcamp.com/ OUIES https://ouies.bandcamp.com/ BRUNOSAUR https://soundcloud.com/brunosaur SOUNDASLEEP https://soundasleepband.bandcamp.com/ IGNITION RIOT https://ignitionriot.bandcamp.com/ LE CLASH https://linktr.ee/leclashpodcast Logo ‘'Le Clash Podcast'' par Maxime Bonenfant (tous droits réservés à Philippe Vaillancourt) Montage Simon Pelletier Thème d'introduction de ‘'Le Clash Podcast''par Lazy Workforce (tous droits réservés à Felix Bolduc, Julien de Kermadec, Jonathan Miron, Philippe Vaillancourt), mix Simon Pelletier

lp norm lors chou rose' kermadec

Only Murders on Long Island 3-7-24

The Grindhouse Radio

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 7, 2024 121:47

Brim, Kim, and Mr. Greer are back at it again. Apart from all the usual shenanigans, the gang chats about everything pop culture with all the trimmings and the cast talks about sleepover nightmares, gruesome murders on Long Island, and Beyonce's new Country Album. The cast discusses this week's opening of Brimstone's new exhibit at the Salem Halloween Museum and his new menu item, 'Rise and Grind' at Red's Sandwich House in Salem. They discuss the demo release for the game 'Rose and Locket' on March 15th that features Brim as the voice of, Wrath. They chat about the perfect microwave s'more, the new 'not so good' Julia Roberts film, and how to crush your children in Monopoly Go. The crew chats about entertainment news, opinions and other cool stuff and things. Enjoy.Wherever you listen to podcasts & www.thegrindhouseradio.comhttps://linktr.ee/thegrindhouseradioThe Grindhouse RadioFB: @thegrindhouseradioTW: @therealghradioInstagram: @thegrindhouseradiowww.thegrindhouseradio.com

murder beyonce wrath long island grind salem julia roberts brimstone brim locket monopoly go country album rose'

Christmas Passions: Part 2

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 17, 2023

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.

Christmas Passions: Part 2

game career gratitude baylor help you find rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 17, 2023

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.

How can the 'rose game' help you find gratitude and perspective in life and career?

Shark Theory

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 15, 2023 7:15

In this episode, Baylor introduces the "rose game", a concept that encourages reflection on gratitude, emerging opportunities, and challenges in life. He uses his own experiences to illustrate the importance of perspective and self-belief in achieving growth and success. Baylor emphasizes the need to appreciate progress, recognize budding opportunities, and view challenges as reminders of progress. He concludes with a powerful message about the interconnectedness of life's different aspects and the importance of finding positivity in each day.

Christmas Passions: Part 2

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 15, 2023

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.

Christmas Passions: Part 2

gardens blame current state blazers sean highkin rose' brandon sprague

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 15, 2023

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.

Who Do Blazers Fans Blame For The Current State Of The Team? | 'Rose Garden Report'

Dirt & Sprague

Play Episode Listen Later Sep 1, 2023 19:04

A disgruntled superstar, an unproven coach, an untrustworthy front office...who's to blame for all of this. Sean Highkin and and Brandon Sprague breakdown what the fans had to say about it. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

57. The Tenth Doctor and Martha - Part 1

The TARDIS Crew: A Doctor Who Podcast

Play Episode Listen Later Aug 17, 2023 61:14

Welcome to THE TARDIS CREW: a Doctor Who podcast.In the first of a two-part episode, Baz and Ben Greenland are joined by guest Hugh McStay, to discuss the 2007 revival series of Doctor Who. Join them as they delve into highlights such as Blink and The Family of Blood, discuss Martha's greatness as a companion, the 'Rose issue', overusing Daleks, introducing Weeping Angels, and so much more!HostsBaz Greenland, Ben GreenlandGuestHugh McStayEditorBaz GreenlandExecutive ProducerTony BlackWe Made This on Twitter: @wmt_networkWemadethispodcasts.comThe TARDIS Crew on Twitter: CrewTARDISTitle music: Science or Fiction (c) Blackout Memories via epidemicsound.comArtwork: Quill Greenland

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Theory 659 (Rose 8 Unearthly Child 16)

child theory acast christopher eccleston billie piper unearthly william hartnell rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 14, 2023 10:01

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who with a look back at 'Rose,' starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper and 'An Unearthly Child,' starring William Hartnell, and a reminiscence of night shifts past. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 658 (Rose 7)

theory acast christopher eccleston billie piper rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 13, 2023 10:41

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who with a look back at 'Rose,' starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, featuring a theory about northern accents. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 657 (Rose 6)

theory acast christopher eccleston billie piper rose' gallifreyan

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 12, 2023 10:34

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who with a look back at 'Rose,' starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, debunking theories about Gallifreyan nipples. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 656 (Rose 5)

theory acast time lord christopher eccleston billie piper rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 9, 2023 10:49

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who by watching 'Rose,' the first episode starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, with a theory about Time Lord evolution. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 655 (Rose 4)

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Play Episode Listen Later Mar 8, 2023 10:35

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who by watching 'Rose,' the first episode starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, and gets totally waylaid talking about pizza. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 654 (Rose 3)

theory acast christopher eccleston billie piper rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 7, 2023 10:35

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who by watching 'Rose,' the first episode starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, and wonders how many actors from this season have their own crime series. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 653 (Rose 2)

theory mirror acast christopher eccleston billie piper rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 6, 2023 10:32

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who by watching 'Rose,' the first episode starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, and he goes off on one about The Mirror. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Theory 652 (Rose 1)

theory acast christopher eccleston billie piper rose'

Play Episode Listen Later Mar 5, 2023 10:20

Adam celebrates the 60th Anniversary of Doctor Who by watching 'Rose,' the first episode starring Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper, and he questions the depiction of lift doors. Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

309: Catherine Simpson and Rosanna Amaka

RNIB Talking Books - Read On

Play Episode Listen Later Feb 24, 2023 57:46

On today's show Robert Kirkwood chats to Catherine Simpson about her memoir One Body: A Retrospective and how anyone can pick up a free audio copy on World Book Night. Rosanna Amaka weaves together the realities of war and the pain of first love in the brand new book 'Rose and the Burma Sky'. We also get some more healthy book recommendations from Paulina Kuchorew and Barry Snell talks to someone who has been volunteering with Talking Books for over 50 years.

simpson talking books rose' world book night barry snell

O'ROSE | Hip Hop Artist | Part 2 | 329 | thamichaelated

thamichaelated unplugged

Play Episode Listen Later Feb 9, 2023 62:25

O'ROSE | Hip Hop Artist | Part 2 | 329 | thamichaelated O'Rose is back in tha Schtudio tonight for yet another fun episode. He tells us how he once wrote a song in 30 minutes in his mom's van to jamming up with his friends that help his creative process and being able to do it full-time while spending quality moments with family. O'Rose gave us an exclusive sneak peek into his song Shaken from his new album that comes out on March 10th. Catch him live at the St. Patricks Day Bash in Kenora on 18th March with B The Wiz, Jeb, Gnarky and The Flipside. He heads to New York and many other exciting venues after that. Stay tuned to find out what 2023 has in-store for O'Rose. Check out our Part 1 with him. Join us for our livestream at 8:45 PM EST on January Feb 6th 2023! Don't forget to hit that like and subscribe button. Questions are welcome! - Our TEAM: Host: thamichaelated! Livestream Production & Photography by: Mohit - Special thanks to our EPISODE SPONSORS: Eat Local Pizza Best Local Pizza, Thunder Bay https://www.eatlocalpizzapos.com 801 Red River Rd, Thunder Bay, ON 807-767-0000 Youngs Insurance, Thunder Bay 807 344 9999 ask for Jenna https://quickrate.ca save 900 $$$ in 90 seconds! White Macgillivray Lester Lawyer & Law Firm #agentsofgood Local Injury Lawyers in Thunder Bay and NWO 807 344 1000 https://tbayinjurylaw.com/contact/ Raffaele's Tailoring https://www.facebook.com/raffaelestailoring 807-476-0669 Call now! Or stop by now! 3-905 Tungsten Street - - You can support the show here: https://ko-fi.com/thamichaelated https://www.instagram.com/thamichaelated http://www.thamichaelated.com https://www.facebook.com/thamichaelated Please hit that LIKE and SUBSCRIBE for more!

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BONUS: Remembering Bill Schonely with Kevin Calabro | 'Rose Garden Report'

Primetime with Isaac and Suke

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 26, 2023 20:21

The past week has been really hard for the Portland Trail Blazers family. Legendary play by play announcer, Bill Schonely, who came up with the phrase “Rip City” passed away at the age of 93 on January 21, 2023. Bill was an absolute legend of the broadcasting community and will go down as one of the best to ever do it. To remember Bill and discuss his time with the Trail Blazers, Sean Highkin welcomes Kevin Calabro on the show. Calabro worked with Bill and was the former voice of the Seattle SuperSonics. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

gardens legendary trailblazers portland trail blazers seattle supersonics rip city sean highkin calabro rose' kevin calabro kfxxam: primetime with isaac and suke bill schonely

BONUS: Remembering Bill Schonely with Kevin Calabro | 'Rose Garden Report'

Dirt & Sprague

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 26, 2023 20:21

The past week has been really hard for the Portland Trail Blazers family. Legendary play by play announcer, Bill Schonely, who came up with the phrase “Rip City” passed away at the age of 93 on January 21, 2023. Bill was an absolute legend of the broadcasting community and will go down as one of the best to ever do it. To remember Bill and discuss his time with the Trail Blazers, Sean Highkin welcomes Kevin Calabro on the show. Calabro worked with Bill and was the former voice of the Seattle SuperSonics. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

gardens legendary trailblazers portland trail blazers seattle supersonics rip city sean highkin calabro rose' kevin calabro kfxxam: primetime with isaac and suke bill schonely

Rose

Still Got Legs

Play Episode Listen Later Jan 16, 2023 34:41

Welcome to Still Got Legs! A Doctor Who Re-Watch podcast starting all the way back with 2005's 'Rose'. We're talking Tardis design, the ninth Doctor, big man Clive and even the racist bin man that gives Mickey a filthy stare...Follow Us:@StillGotLegsPod@NathanBower_@laurence_hiseeThank you to Dr Keyz on YouTube for providing the theme music.https://www.youtube.com/@DrKEYZ Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

doctors acast clive tardis rose' keyz

Christmas Passions: Part 2

Play Episode Listen Later Dec 23, 2022

Christmas Passions: Part 2The 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.

Christmas Passions: Part 2