by Blaise Quin
Published by YRBS
Copyright © 2016 by C. C. Morian and Blaise Quin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for supporting the rights of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
AWAKENING HER NEEDS
Find Out About New Releases
About the authors
Books by C. C. Morian and Blaise Quin
Books by C. C. Morian
Books by Blaise Quin
Author’s note
This is the culmination of a story about a woman who didn’t even know what she didn’t know.
Emily had a strict and rather traditional upbringing. Somewhat shy, she fell in love with her high school boyfriend, Justin. Convinced he was ‘the one,’ she dated no other man in college, waiting patiently even as Justin sowed his wild oats elsewhere. He finally realized what he was missing, and they happily marry, Justin trading off a future of more robust sexual experiences for very traditional sex with the woman he loves.
Emily had never been with another man before Justin. Sex was what you did with the man you loved, and it was mainly for procreation, which meant there was basically only one way to do it. Anything else was, not quite deviant, but unnecessary. Carnal.
Women like Emily exist in real life. Women who don’t even know what they don’t know. Women brought up strictly, not smoking or taking drunks or drinking much alcohol. Perhaps in college, or otherwise away from home, they become immersed in a new world, able to see (and not just hear about) what is ‘normal.’ They witness firsthand what their friends do. Some of these women who experience this new freedom go wild, partying and hooking up.
Yet others do not; they retain their traditional way of looking at the world, especially when it comes to sex. Don’t kid yourself, there are women who are just like Emily was at the beginning of Book One, even at a much older age than she is. We know some of them personally, and we are sure you do as well.
Some woman who were always on the wild side, or who went a little crazy in their late teens and early twenties, settle down as they get a bit older. This might in fact be the norm, but let’s admit it, they aren’t as much fun to read about!
We pick up this story exactly where Book Two left off, but from Emily’s point of view, because, as in real life, experiences are different depending on whose eyes they are seen through. In this case, because of the enormity of what both Emily and Justin were experiencing, it seemed only fitting to do both.
We’ve always tried to push the boundaries of the more traditional menage/wife sharing/hotwife books. Not only by making the stories more about the couple, but by exploring the romantic elements of what they share. And most importantly, by emphasizing the inherent trust required between the husband and wife. Power, too, is an important element, but for us, it is not about one wielding power over the other, it’s about the self confident power needed to live outside the norm.
If you’ve read the first two books you will have seen the genesis and growth of Emily’s—and also Justin’s—transformation. In the end, of course, it isn’t the final destination, or even what Emily is willing to do, that is the crux of the transformation. It is her, and her husband’s, understanding—and acceptance—of who she is.
— Blaise Quin and C. C. Morian
p.s. Although this is the final book in the series, we realize there might be a few questions you might have about what happens next. To that end, we’re working on an Epilogue. It will be available only to our mailing list subscribers, for free. We’ll send you details about how to get it early in the new year if not before.
AWAKENING HER NEEDS
Book Three
by
Blaise Quin
and
C. C. Morian
AWAKENING HER NEEDS
Book 3
In the bathroom, Emily focused on the pragmatic steps of getting ready. Working from the bottom up, she checked and adjusted her outfit. First her new shoes, still slick on the tile. A cross between a high heel and a sandal, thin leather straps leaving much of her foot uncovered, the tall spiky heel hard to walk in. Not that she was going to be doing much walking.
She wore no stockings, so she checked her legs for blemishes. Fortunately there were none. Her calves, always slim, appeared especially toned, set off by the taller heel. More of her legs were visible than in the outfits she usually wore, since the form fitting dress was hemmed well above her knees. A length she normally associated with women even younger than she was, women who were out partying on a Saturday night. Women who were trying to attract a man.
Single women.
Not married women like her, in their late twenties, whose husband had helped her pick out the dress. Not for his pleasure, but for her to wear for another man.
Emily pulled at the hem, making sure there were no wrinkles, that it was even. The dress was snug around her thin hips, hugging her like a lover. She turned this way and that, trying to see if her panties were visible through the fabric. Maybe a little in the bright bathroom light.
She never considered taking them off. Odd, she was about to have sex with a man other than her husband, and still she couldn’t bring herself to not wear panties. Not tonight.
Such was the woman she had become, half in her old world, half in a new.
She’d considered a belt, a horizontal break in the slim silhouette. Had decided against it, keeping it simple, traditional. Like her. Or the old her.
The clerk at the store had said Emily was lucky to be able to wear this dress. It clung so tightly to her skin that even a small tummy bulge would have made her look misshapen. Instead, the fabric was as a flat as a board. She lay her hand on her belly, wondering what she’d look like in the dress if she were pregnant.
Her hand grew warm, thinking about a full belly, and what would give her a full belly.
The flatness of the dress ended at her chest. The dress made her breasts appear much larger than they were. Not wider, or with more cleavage, but more prominent, partially due to the bra she had chosen. Practically a sign around her chest, telling the world she wanted men to look at her boobs.
The top of the dress was low enough to show the skin below her neck. She’d considered jewelry, but again had opted for simple. The straps over her shoulders revealed skin on both sides, and the tone in her arms.
A beautiful, sexy dress that fit her like the proverbial glove. Not a dress she would have ever bought for herself, not a dress she would have even given a second glance to in a store. Yet a perfect dress for this evening, a dress for a new man.
So much focus on the outfit. She probably wasn’t going to have it on long anyway
.
Now the hard part, to look at her face. She’d started from the bottom so she wouldn’t have to look at herself in the mirror. Not that she wasn’t pretty—Emily was so practical she could even evaluate her own looks accurately and without egoism. It wasn’t how she looked that she hesitated to face, but what she might glean of herself, whether she’d like what she saw, this new Emily.
Not sure what was worse: seeing a different woman staring out at her, a woman who’d be in this hotel room, or not seeing any signs of change at all, seeing the same Emily. An Emily who had perhaps all along been able and willing to do what she was about to do.
There was still time to change her mind. Justin would understand. Certainly he must still have his own doubts, even though they’d discussed this at great length. This wasn’t an act that most people jumped into. Certainly not Justin, and certainly not her.
Yet here they were. And Emily knew, as much as she could know anything in her new life, that if she walked out of this hotel room without going through with it, she’d forever wonder, she’d forever be nagged by doubts. Doubts about what might have happened, about how far she could go, about who she had become.
Or worse, she’d regret not having had the experience.
She never would have reached this point alone. Justin’s love and support had helped her get here, had helped her want to get here. He hadn’t pushed, he hadn’t tried to force her. This was her decision, but like all good marriages, it was made in part based on a pillar of support.
She raised her eyes to her face in the mirror.
To anyone else she probably looked the same. But though it was difficult to see a change in your own appearance, since you tended to look at yourself in the mirror every day, she was different. Not in the shape of her face, or the almost flawless still youthful skin, not her mouth or nose. It was her eyes. The same size, the same color, yet hinting of a hidden secret, a secret gleaned from new experiences. And, perhaps, a truth uncovered not from looking without, but from within.
And yet, the eyes were not sad, far from it. They sparkled with excitement, with anxious thrill. Perhaps the eyes one would have getting ready to parachute out of an airplane for the first time, or bungee jump. A trace of fear, masked by the awaited thrill.
This convinced her. If she hadn’t seen the excitement in her eyes, if she’d seen only worry, or sadness, she would have walked out for sure, she would have run home with Justin to curl up in their bed, just the two of them.
The practical Emily recognized what her eyes were telling her, that she wanted this. She needed this. And the new Emily, the growing Emily, accepted this truth.
She made one final adjustment to her hair, then stepped back, imprinting in her mind’s eye the totality of what she had looked like.
She knew she might never see that woman again.
Justin was standing in the middle of the room, looking a little nervous. Normally Emily would have given him a hug. Yet she hung back, just watching. She was sure about herself, now she needed to be sure about him.
If Justin wasn’t ready, if he had changed his mind, she wouldn’t go through with it.
Her mind was on him, yet a part of her was still in her practical planning mode. She was again caught between the old and the new, and yet, in a shocking reversal, the new Emily, the one who was even willing to consider the tryst, was worried about her husband, making sure he was okay, making sure he was not having second thoughts.
It was the practical Emily who was still thinking about her outfit. Strangely, the practical Emily spoke first. “I still wonder if I should have worn tights, or stockings.”
As soon as she spoke she realized the implications of her question, less what was said than what was unsaid, but it was too late. The damage was done. Before she could fix it, Justin spoke.
“This is better. It’s so natural, so you. Your legs are wonderful, you don’t want to hide them.”
Was there a hint of surprise in his voice, wondering why she hadn’t brought up the question of whether they should keep going? Or was this his way of showing respect for her decision?
She decided to stay the course. “Do I look okay?”
“You look amazing. Don’t worry, he’s going to be blown away.”
She tried to smile. “I want to look good for you too.”
“Trust me, you do. If Dwayne doesn’t show up, you’ll see fast enough.”
Emily glanced toward the door. “You think he might not come?” That would take the decision out of their hands.
“Hmm, let’s see. A guy gets a call saying that all he has to do is show up at a hotel room and a beautiful woman will be waiting there to have sex with him. He doesn’t even have to buy her dinner. I can’t imagine any man in his right mind turning that down.”
“You forgot the part about the woman’s husband being there.”
“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten that part. You’re sure he knows, right? Lisa made it clear?”
The conversation with Emily’s sister Lisa had been surreal. Emily had called to take Lisa up on her offer to set Emily up with Lisa’s ex, Dwayne. Most of the conversation had been about logistics, planning, timing. Lisa—bless her—trusting Emily’s decision even though she realized this was a momentous step for Emily. “Yes. Lisa said—she said it wasn’t the first time Dwayne had been asked. But this was the first invitation he’d accepted.”
“Because of Lisa?”
“Part of it. And—because he remembered me.” She’d remembered Dwayne too, when he had been with Lisa. He was the type of man who seemed natural for her sister, a confident, untraditional, unconventional man. A black man.
“I see.”
Justin was saying all the right words, yet it sounded like he was in a business meeting. Maybe he was reflecting a vibe she was giving off. She needed to get from his head to his heart. “Are you sure you are okay with this?”
Justin’s answer was thoughtful. “You’ve always said that you need to know where it ends, that you’ll wonder. If you don’t do this—if we don’t do this, will you know?”
Emily hesitated, less because she didn’t know the answer, but because she didn’t want to hurt Justin. Yet in the end, she decided, as always, to just tell the truth. “No. I’ll still wonder.”
“Then that settles it.”
Emily almost flew to him then, because it sounded far from settled. She wasn’t sure words could convince her, and her resolution faltered. She could feel the new Emily fall away, her entire bearing changing, reverting. She was about to call it off when Justin strode to the bed and yanked off the covers.
That action, which was so simple but which must have required great strength on his part, screamed out to her that he had enough faith in her, in them, to keep going.
She could only stare at him. Was this a new Justin, or the same Justin she had always known and loved, and she was just seeing him in a new set of circumstances?
Justin crossed the room and poured two glasses of wine. He gave her one, their fingers meeting briefly, the first time they had touched since entering the hotel room. “To getting answers,” he toasted.
“To shared experiences,” she offered.
“Better,” he said, taking a sip.
Emily gulped down half her glass, the first real visible evidence of her inner turmoil. Or excitement. A drop of wine dribbled down her chin.
Justin reached out and captured it with his finger.
Emily grabbed his hand, holding it to her cheek. His skin was cold up against her flushed skin. “I can’t believe what you are letting me do,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”
“And that’s why we are here,” he said. “Because I love you too.”
“It still seems an odd place to be for two people who love each other. And yet, it feels right.”
This was the conversation Emily thought they would have tonight, the conversation they’d already had many times, or variations of it. If it might have ended differently tonight she’d never
find out, because at that moment there was a knock on the door.
She gave Justin one long, loving look, then kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Before he could respond, Emily went to the door. She should be the one to let Dwayne in. To the room, to her body.
In the doorway, Dwayne appeared larger than she remembered him. He’d bulked up in the military, his shoulders broader, his arms thicker. He’d had dreadlocks during his Jamaican band playing days, but now it was more longish than long.
Dwayne gave her a long look. His size and erotic handsomeness brought out the old Emily, the shy Emily. She looked down briefly at her feet, her legs coming together. A small smile appeared on Dwayne’s face, almost a grin. He seemed to like what he was seeing, and Emily felt a thrill run along her spine.
Who was this woman, who wanted to be noticed for her looks?
“Look at you, girl,” said Dwayne. “You’re all grown up.”
Emily stepped aside to let Dwayne in, very conscious of how small she felt next to him, even in her tall heels. His aroma washed over her as he passed, her nostrils flaring.
She closed the door. The click of the bolt was like the starter’s gun for a race. She leaned against the door, needing this extra support.
When she looked back into the room, Dwayne was shaking hands with her husband. The thought of a business meeting again flashed in her mind.
“You’ve got one beautiful wife,” said Dwayne.
Justin nodded. “Thanks. I mean, I know. Do you want some wine? There are also drinks in the minibar.”
“Wine is fine,” said Dwayne, turning back to Emily. “Although I don’t want too much alcohol. I want my head clear for this.”
