Champagne And Acidity
„I know this isn't exactly the Ritz, still it's the best hotel in the area", Richard helped Emily out of the limousine. It was a shame she wasn't wearing her wedding gown anymore. She had looked beautiful in it. And still, the mink hanging around her shoulders, the high-waisted black skirt and white blouse she wore now, became her more than well. A wide belt flattered her slim waist, just like the skirt accented her gorgeous legs. Richard had no idea how Emily was even able to walk in it, not the illegally tight skirt, nor the matching high heels. The Hollywood-like appearance made it hard to believe, the elegant woman opposite him and the sweaty girl running over the field-hockey field, elbowing C.C. Everetts on the parking lot not even a year ago were the same person. Hard to believe, if there hadn't been the same sparkle in her dark eyes. Hard to believe she was his wife, if there hadn't been the golden ring around her finger. Richard squeezed her hand softly, lifting it to place a kiss on its back.
Emily smiled as he did. "I'm sure it'll be just fine, Richard", she assured him, although, looking at the rather inconsiderable and grey façade of the building, she had her doubts. She'd never understood how people could call concrete buildings elegant and praise their plain beauty. They were horrible. Coarse building bricks, cubbled togther by men with the aesthetic capability of a blind four year old. No, Emily sighed innerly, there was absolutley no beauty. Winking slowly, she took her look off the building and glanced at Richard. Maybe it's just the same with us, she thought as their eyes met. Sometimes when he looked at her, when he looked at her like he did now, his blue eyes reflecting the soft smile that played around his lips, she had the feeling he didn't see what she saw when she looked into the mirror. He saw something different. For his eyes there was a beauty that didn't exist.
His arm linked with hers, Richard guided his wife into the lobby and checked in at the reception. "Richard and Emily Gilmore", he said and, out of the corner of his eyes, saw how a broad grin spread on Emily's face, a grin she tried to suppress by pressing her lips together for a second and staring at her toe-caps. To his delight she failed, the smile still enlightened her face. "Wanna take the chance?", he moved the registration form in front of her and offered her the ball-pen.
"Why not", she beamed and placed her signature onto the paper, flowing and soft letters. Emily Gilmore. Best she would've underlined the surname with an energetic line. "Here you go", she handed the piece of paper to the concierge, a tall man with an impressing moustache and grey temples.
"Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore", he nodded politely and Emily chuckled silently, the smile on her face turning into the broad grin again. Grinning as well, Richard shook his head. She was really something.
"Here are your keys", the man behind the counter instructed the newlyweds. "Room 345 on the second floor. It has a beautiful view onto our park. We allowed ourselves to place a little something in your suite to express our congratulations."
"That's very kind of you, George", Richard read the name from his tag.
Once more, the concierge nodded politely. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore."
"We most certainly will", it was for him to grin now, a last nod before he took Emily's warm arm again and led her to the elevator.
The bellboy brought their small luggage into the living room of the suite, the rest was already checked in and probably waited to be loaded into the plane to Paris right now. As soon as the young man was done, Richard handed him a decent tip and closed the door behind him. Finally alone. With a smile, he strolled over to Emily.
"Mrs. Gilmore", Richard placed his hands on her hips and bowed down.
"Yes", she sighed happily, covering his hands with hers, and leaned into his gentle kiss.
"Now let's see", Richard looked around. The room was nice. Nothing breathtaking, but clean and modern elegance. It would do for one night. The bed would, he glimpsed through an open door into the adjoining room. For him even a bed of straw would've done, but Emily probably wouldn't have been thrilled about losing her virginity in a rick. Yes, for tonight the solid king-sized bed with the white linen was definitely the best choice. Another private smile formed on his lips, then Richard called himself to order and concentrated onto the living room again.
"Here we go", he walked towards a bottle of champagne and a bunch of white roses on a table in the middle of the room. "To the newlywed couple", he opened the card and read it. "Heartiest wishes for your wedding."
"My", Emily grimaced and walked over to Richard. "There are swans on it", she took the card and scrutinized the cover. "Ugly swans."
"They look more like hens to me", he eyed the pink and blue poultry wearing a veil and top hat. "Hens trying to trump each others eyes with their peckers."
"Oh no, look close", she shook her head. "They are about to kiss each other."
Richard scrunched his eyes. "Now that you mention it."
"At least the champagne leaves nothing to be desired", she pointed at the bottle of expensive French champagne.
"Want a glass, mylady?"
Emily nodded slowly. She only had sipped at her champagne during the wedding and ignored the wine during dinner at all, sticking with soda as she had wanted to keep a clear head. But now the thought of the tingly liquid on her tongue and the warm feeling in throat and stomach that came with it, was tempting. "I'd love to."
"Anything my beautiful wife wants", he kissed her.
Emily grinned. "That's how it is supposed to be", she walked over to the sitting area and sat down on the armchair. "God", she got rid of her shoes. "Those are killing me."
"Ha!", Richard called out and Emily winced surprised.
"Ha?!"
With a loud plop he opened the bottle and started to pour the bubbling liquid as he continued to talk. "I assumed it must be painful to wear those heels and you just proved my theory right."
"You don't have to be a genius to figure that out", she stated dryly.
"And you have to have a liability to sadism if you wear those instruments of torture voluntarily."
"I beg to differ", Emily protested. "And I most certainly don't. Besides those shoes are nothing compared to the ones I wore the entire day. Those were a real pain in the you-know-what."
"Why torture yourself then?"
"Have you looked at yourself lately?", she pouted. "I most certainly didn't want to look like a dwarf next to a giant in front of the altar."
"A beautiful dwarf you would have made", Richard smiled and handed her the glass, using the closeness to steal himself a kiss. "To the hens", he raised a toast.
"To the hens", she repeated smiling and sipped at her champagne. Although it was only a small sip, the alcohol affected her immediately and she remembered she had been eating as much as nothing during the entire day. "And your brazenness", she took another sip and put the glass away. She didn't want to be drunk. Just relaxed.
Grinning Richard put his glass on the table as well and sat down opposite her.
"What are you doing?", she asked confused when he reached for her right leg and placed it on his lap.
"Just making good for my tallness", he started to massage the sole of her foot.
Emily leaned back and closed her eyes. "Go ahead."
"Now what are you doing?", Richard called out as she didn't move for minutes and the regular up and down of her chest made him fear she was about to fall asleep.
"Just enjoying your guerdon", Emily mumbled and opened her eyes. "The other one please", she presented him her left leg and he couldn't help to notice how the muscles of it tensed as she stretched it into his direction. Not only beautiful, he continued the massage, but sexy too.
"Like it?"
"I love it", she sighed and, enjoying the soft circles Richard painted on her skin, closed her eyes again. His touches and the champagne wrapped her in a warm blanket of comfortableness and she allowed herself to drift on it. If this was what it meant to be a wife, she loved it more than just loving it.
Richard watched his wife, unable to decide if he liked the picture of her sitting there in the chair and falling asleep or not. It was their wedding night after all and he felt like he'd waited for it forever. She looked so goddamn beautiful. Beautiful and desirable, he added with another look at her stretched out leg in his lap. With a regretful sigh, he eventually decided one more day of waiting wouldn't kill him, cursing his own consideration as it sometimes was in its own way.
"Richard?", Emily whispered as she felt how he lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom.
"It's been a long day."
"It's our wedding night", she protested.
"Let's pretend it's Christmas Eve", he placed his wife on the bed. "And we won't get to unpack our presents until the morning." He spoke softly, but there was a bitter undertone in his voice that surprised him.
"No", Emily shook her head and he wondered if she'd heard it too. "It's our wedding night", she took his hand and pulled him down next to her. "Our wedding night", she ran a hand over his cheek and kissed him softly.
His heart made a happy jump. "Are you sure?", he nevertheless asked. If she agreed, he'd done everything possible to soothe his mind and conscience. Who was he to not bow to his wife's wishes after all? And if she didn't want to wait, he of course wouldn't let her wait.
"Well, I most certainly got married today", she kissed him. "And if I'm not completely mistaken, I married you."
"Yeah", he chuckled and rolled over her. "I faintly remember something like that", Richard whispered against her lips and eventually got the kiss he'd waited for the entire day. If there was anything the perfectionist Emily knew how to do more than just perfectly, it was kissing. If the sex would be only half as good as their kisses, it'd be great sex, he thought as he absorbed the taste of her mouth on his, enjoying the feeling it created in his body. Slowly he brought a hand to her breast and massaged it through the silk of her blouse. Emily didn't pull back like she usually would've done. Of course not, they were married now. Married. The thought made Richard intense the kiss and let go of her breast to be able to unbutton the blouse.
Just when he'd succeeded in opening the first button, Emily laid a hand on his and broke the kiss with a small shake of her head. "Let me have a shower and change first", she said and ran a finger over his hairline. "Please", she added, because he made no attempts to let her go.
"Alright", he sighed and kissed the hollow of her throat. As he apparently was about to get what he already had said good-bye to, he gave her a last short but deep kiss and rolled to the side. "Hurry", he couldn't prevent from asking her as she vanished outside.
The shower revived her and the tiredness, the struggles of the day vanished in the drain. But then it probably wasn't the warm water and the pleasant smell of shower gel and shampoo that sharpened her senses again, but the adrenalin rush the thought of the impending wedding night caused.
Emily was nervous. Her entire body prickled with excitement, an excitement she couldn't tell if it was pleasant or not. She had waited for so long and now that the moment was here, she didn't know anymore if she looked forward to it or not. She was curious and nervous, wishful and frightened.
Therefore she took her time as she prepared herself. More accurate than usual she covered herself with skin cream, turned in the curlers with more carefulness than usual before she eventually dried her hair and removed them again, needing minutes until her hair looked great but not like she had put any effort into looking it great, just some soft curls that looked almost natural. Afterwards she applied some liquid make-up to make her skin look harmonious and soft, a bit rouge to make her cheeks glow in a natural tone, mascara and subtle lines onto her upper lids, a touch of lipstick in the end, a whiff of perfume. She looked nice, she couldn't help to notice. Almost better than during the day. Emily doffed off the bathrobe of the hotel and reached for her underwear. Usually she never would've worn something like this, a white set Melinda had talked her into and which she now regretted having bought as she saw her reflection in the mirror. The chiffon-net lace, ornated with lily stitchery, revealed as much as nothing and the balconnet bra pushed her breasts almost obscenely. She doubted Richard would treasure if his wife came along like a woman of questionable morals. But it was too late, she hardly could sneak out of the bathroom and get another set of underwear without him noticing it. With a sigh, Emily got into the negligee. Better, she smoothed it out. Much better. If she asked Richard to turn off the light, he probably wouldn't notice what she wore beneath and she could dispose of the set while he was asleep. Throwing it out and forget about it. She really didn't remember what the hell had come over her when she bought it.
Emily took a step back. Finished. She was all ready. Taking in three deep breaths, she opened the door of the bathroom and stepped outside.
Richard lay in bed already. Leaned against the pillow, he presented her the naked upper part of his body. Nothing you don't know already, Emily told herself, still she felt how some blood surged to her face. As fast as possible without running, she strolled over to the bed, feeling Richard's view on her body during the entire time, feeling how it wandered up and down. Eventually it came to a rest on her face when she arrived at the edge of the bed and he reached out his hand with a smile.
"You look beautiful", he stated thereby.
"Thank you", she nodded shyly and pressed her lips together as she crawled under the sheets and reached over to the light switch, suffusing the room with darkness, herself with relief.
It took him some time to adjust to the sudden darkness and the disappointment he felt. Nevertheless, he decided to let it that way. It was her first time and she probably was nervous. She had been in that awful night of their engagement a month ago. But things had been different that night. Things were different now. They were married now. Time would teach her. He would. Richard bowed over to his wife whose shadow lay motionless besides him. Carefully he placed a kiss onto her lips. She really tasted awfully good. She felt awfully good, warm and soft. Richard explored her neck with his lips and pulled down the strapes of her negligee, realizing glad Emily raised her hips to allow him to remove the bothersome material completely. This was the night, he couldn't help to think. Tonight eventually, finally she'd be his. The thought sent a wave of desire through his body, excitement he had troubles to bear. He wanted to feel her, he wanted to be inside of her and take her. Still he was careful as he pulled down the lace covering her left breast and explored the exposed skin with his lips and tongue, while he guided his left hand outright between her legs to make sure she'd be ready for him. Would it be, would it be soon.
Emily inhaled sharply. The feeling was strange and unknown, yet surprisingly pleasant. Without swaying it, her legs spread apart to allow him better access. Him touching her there felt good, just like his lips on her skin felt good. It was really pleasant and still she hoped he'd break away of her breasts and kiss her mouth instead. As if he read her mind his lips crushed hers and, wrapping her arms around his neck, Emily relaxed into the hungry kiss, allowing him to remove her panties as well. For a second it embarrassed her, Richard now would feel the dampness his kisses and touches had created, but when his fingers continued to caress the spot between her legs, the embarrassment all too soon lost out. Emily pressed her head into the pillow and allowed her body to give in the longing that spread in it, a longing that was intensified by the way his lips felt on her ear and neck, the way his fingers ran over her, creating warm shivers, a longing pulsation. Although she knew this way of kissing already, knew he always kissed her like that when he was aroused and her body asked for it too, it took her by surprise. The feeling of him gliding into her did, the sudden pain did and although it was the last thing she wanted to think about, the words of the midwife came to her mind. She'd been right. The feeling of the foreign body inside of her was more than she could take.
Richard felt how his wife clenched around him and suddenly the pink clouds turned grey. Her reaction wasn't how he'd imagined it. This wasn't the perfect union he'd dreamed of so many times. He searched Emily's lips and kissed her. The reply was almost mechanical and his heart sank down even more. Bringing a hand to her cheek, Richard tried to bring back the special magic, tried to wrap her into it as well, but the nervousness he suddenly felt, lamed him. Dogged on getting the act together, he started to move, did it clumsy and stiff.
Emily bit her tongue and tried to take in deep breaths while she spread he legs even more and pressed her tights into the mattress, which allowed her body to accept him easier. It indeed was better now, the knocking pain turned into a weak constant she could live with. Directing her attention from her lower body part, Emily concentrated on Richard's warm breath on her cheek and ear, the low sounds he made. Sounds which told her, it wouldn't last much longer, just like the change of pace did. "God", she heard him groan and his body clenched, a tremor and a last moan before he collapsed atop of her. Richard remained motionless for some seconds before he finally slid out of her. Despite he did the burning remained. She forgot it upon the soft kiss, he gave her. So gentle. Even more gentle was the "I love you", he whispered against her mouth, while his fingers caressed her arms and side. She liked it and slowly got lost in the feeling, enjoying it throughougly. That was the part she knew after all, they'd played a similar game often enough in his car, although, afterwards, she'd never felt like she felt now. Sweaty and sore, sore despite sticky liquids running out of her and down her tights. No matter how much she enjoyed his calm kisses and tenderness, Emily longed for another shower. Therefore, she was glad when Richard broke the kiss and rolled to the side, pulling her with him and placing a kiss into her hair. "Are you al-", he started to murmur with a sleepy voice, but Emily placed a finger onto his lips. She didn't want him to ask. She didn't want to answer. "Shhhhhhh", she whispered and kissed his chest. "I love you too", she added partly to silence him for good, partly to remind herself. Even if she didn't. He was her husband.
Tiredly he winked the sleep away and looked at his wristwatch that lay on the nightstand. 5:47 it showed. 5:47 on his first morning as married man, the kick-off was on. Emily Johnson was his wife now. She had married him. She would spend her life with him, they'd have the most wonderful life together. Richard loved 5:47, the perfect time to wake up on a perfect morning. They still had some time, before they'd have to leave. Enough time for a long shower and breakfast. Enough time to recreate last night, to do it right this time.
Richard was glad he'd been her first man. There was nothing his rotten performance could be compared with. She probably had no idea, he'd failed last night and acted as if it'd been his first time and not hers. He moved closer to Emily and snuggled against her back. Yes, this morning he'd show her how lovemaking actually was and there'd be nothing left to be desired. Not for her.
"Emily", he whispered into her ear. "Wake up, dear."
His wife made a low sound and moved onto her back. "How late is it?", she asked while Richard continued to kiss her neck and run his fingers over her body. He wanted to map every square millimetre of her. "Ten to six", he kissed his way over her chin to her mouth.
"It's morning", she protested low as he placed his hands on her breasts and squeezed them.
"Your first morning as Mrs. Richard Gilmore" he smiled. "The first morning I woke up next to my beautiful wife", a kiss onto her left shoulder as he played with the straps of her negligee. "Did you sleep well?", the straps wandered down her arms and the negligee skid to her hips. He gladly noticed she didn't wear a bra beneath, absorbing the new and exciting picture of her exposed breasts. Another perfect thing.
"Yes", Emily answered low, unable to decide whether or not it was appropriate that her husband tried to seduce her first thing in the morning. His mouth on her stomach felt good though, just like him calling her his wife did. "Very well", she added and closed her eyes again, deciding to enjoy his efforts as long as possible and the inevitable would happen. She enjoyed long. Richard needed long. He kissed her stomach and breasts, his lips explored her ankles and the hollow of her knee, he put a line of kisses onto the inside of her thigh and at the latest then it was more than just enjoyment she felt, her lips forming low moans every now and then, her heart racing with anticipation and demand. Her body demanded more, he had the strangest effects on her. As great as his lips felt on her thigh, she wanted them to move higher, she wanted him to finally remove her panties, she wanted him to touch her vulva, a horrible impatience as he didn't, but his mouth made its way back down her legs.
"Richard", she whispered after a while with a hoarse voice and he looked up.
"Yes?", he ran his hands over her sides and buried his head between her breasts, cupping them with his hands and massaging them. This was definitely better than last night, she wanted it as much as he did.
She couldn't tell him, no way she could. Instead she gently put her hands onto his cheeks and pulled him higher for a kiss. This was good. More than that and she willingly allowed him to finally remove her panties, spreading her legs in pleasant anticipation of his touches. A shiver ran through her body as he finally did, the wonderful warmth was there again, the hot pulsation, stronger than last night, so much stronger and for the first time Emily really stopped to think. All there was, was the heat between her legs, a heat that killed and satisfied her at the same time as it slowly spread in her body, wandering into her toes and fingertips, awful heat, lovely heat. It was everywhere all of sudden, she heard herself moan out load as her body reared up and twitched, heat and warmth and ease, unbelievable comfortableness as she sank back into he sheets and tried to catch her breath, trying to understand what just had happened. She had no time to think though, Richard kissed her again and it was all she was able to concentrate on. He kissed her and guided himself into her.
Relieved she realized the initial pain was missing this time. While it still felt strange to have him inside of her and the cauterization was back, it was easier for her to accept him this morning. As a precaution she though pressed her thighs into the mattress and stretched herself for him. It really didn't feel that bad anymore, her body automatically adjusted to his movements, a pleasant warmth that drowned the burn out. When his breathing got heavier from second to second, Emily wondered if he felt the same thing she'd just felt, if his thrusts became harder and faster because his body craved for the heat to continue and yet unfold and end. Carefully she ran her fingers over his back, amazed by the sudden feeling that she could grab the love for the man atop of her and clutch it in her fist, if she only reached out. Making love. Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her head at his shoulders as she waited for him to reach his peak. Just like the night before, there was a loud moan as he released himself inside of her and collapsed. Unlike the night before, he didn't tell her he loved her, but kissed her hungrily, turning around until she lay atop of him, his hands resting on her bottom as he pressed her body against his.
Emily needed a while until she realized he was up for another round. She didn't need longer than a blink to know she wasn't. Maybe she'd enjoyed it up to a certain degree, but she felt sticky and dirty and the sore feeling between her legs had gotten worse. She needed a shower first, a shower and some hours for her body to recover. Nevertheless, she didn't want to disappoint him and hence guided her hand to his growing erection. It surprised her that Richard was already aroused again. A more experienced woman probably would've been flattered, Emily however felt slight horror upon his sexual appetite. She couldn't. Not now. Not for a while. Closing her eyes she kissed her way down his chest and stomach while she caressed him, eventually running her tongue over his shaft and causing Richard to rear with a moan. He tasted different than usual, but she swamped out the slight nausea that was caused by the thought upon the why and accepted him in her mouth. She always had felt slightly ridiculous when she'd done it and being his wife didn't change a thing about it. At least, in this case, she perfectly knew what she had to do and it eased her a lot to be on a known area she'd already made her peace with.
"Emily", Richard moaned. "I can't much longer…", she heard him groan after a while, but she continued. "I really… God, Emily, please", he tried to utter between his moans and she felt him twitch, swallowing down the warm liquid that filled her mouth a second later.
"It's degrading", the low voice was back again, gouging into her flesh. "Depraved and animal demands." Emily shivered as she sat up and pulled the sheet around her naked body, carefully climbing out the bed as she didn't want to wake Richard who'd fallen asleep again. Standing next to the bed, she looked at her husband. She loved this face, she loved the entire man. Emily bowed down and placed a kiss onto his cheek. Making love. Somehow she understood.
Richard adjusted his bow tie and looked at his mirror image. It amazed him that he still looked the same, although he felt so different. He was a married man now, proud and happy and more in love than ever before and still he looked the same. Emily however didn't, he noticed as he watched his wife coming out of the bathroom. She looked different. He'd already noticed it the day before. Her entire appearance was different, her aura was. She gave off the pride and happiness he felt and it made her even more beautiful. It made him even prouder he was the man who caused it. He caused it and everybody out there would be jealous of him, jealous that she was his and they had no chances anymore. She was Mrs. Richard Gilmore. She was his wife.
"Stop staring at me, Richard", she jolted him out of his thoughts.
"I didn't stare at you", he denied. "I just admired you. They should exhibit you in the Louvre. You'd outshine Mona Lisa."
Emily chuckled with blushed cheeks and strolled over to him. How much he loved it, whenever she blushed. Did it because of him.
"Shameless exaggeration", she crossed her fingers with his and looked up.
"No", he shook his head slowly. "It is not. Actually you outshine every other woman, dead or alive."
"You better stop it, otherwise I might tend to believe you."
"You better believe me, Emily."
"Oh now", she smiled and buried her head on his chest. It felt like home. She never had felt more arrived and composed in her entire life. Sure, she always had known she was meant to be a wife, but being one, being Richard's wife - it somehow made her complete. No matter what happened in their marriage bed, no matter what else would come. She wanted this. She wanted it so badly. "I like this", she murmured after a while.
"Standing here?"
"Yes", she agreed. "Standing here", a short pause, a preoccupied smile before she looked at him. "Standing here with my husband", she added. Husband. The word prickled like champagne on her tongue. "I like it", she stated with emphasis. "I really do."
"Me, too", Richard bowed down and kissed her. "Very much."
Richard did not only like to be a married man, he liked all the big and small things married life brought with it. He liked waking up next to Emily. He liked the first kiss she gave him after she had showered, the intense smell that surrounded her after a shower. He liked watching her undo her hair and combing it. He liked the way she wrinkled her nose when she stood in front of the wardrobe and picked out an outfit. He liked the way she took a step back, pressing a blouse, skirt or dress against her body, deciding whether or not it was a good choice and the throaty noise she made whenever she considered it to be a bad one. He liked the moment she eventually took off her morning robe and presented him her body in underwear before she hid it under material again. He liked that she still blushed faintly whenever she realized he was watching her. He liked it and yet, sometimes, he wondered why she still was so reserved when it came to these kinds of things. Richard couldn't exactly complain about their sexual life. After the first times, the nervousness had lost out and as far as he could tell she enjoyed the sex as much as he did. Emily never pushed him away if he wanted to sleep with her, this way or the other, she satisfied his physical demands. She satisfied him on her own terms, strange terms that sometimes appeared a little prude to him. After five months of marriage, he couldn't tell of one occasion where he'd seen her completely naked. Of course she was when they made love, but before and afterwards she covered her body, even during the white sheets of their bed mostly surrounded them. Just like she always hastily looked away when he got up after their lovemaking without bothering to cover himself like she used to. But then time probably would change it, first she never would've presented him her body in underwear either. The only thing that really bothered him, was that he still wasn't able to please her. Not in the way he'd knew he could from the other woman he'd been with. Women he'd felt rearing and twitching under his body, around him. He had heard them shouting his name and other things, moaning and groaning. Other women. But not his wife. Sure, he was able to please her before or after, but not during the actual lovemaking. Probably he should've settled for it, but he couldn't. He'd decided to show her how sex was supposed to be and Richard Gilmore always got through with his decisions.
He knew many things, but he hardly knew everything. Actually, he didn't know much more about Emily than before they'd married. He knew a lot about her appearance. He loved to watch her. He couldn't tell how she drank her coffee though. Richard thought of the many breakfasts and tried to remember. He couldn't remember ever having her seen putting anything into her coffee. No sugar, no milk, no sweetener. He couldn't tell what of it wandered into her cup, how much of it. He never had paid attention to it. She knew it. She knew how he drank his, a good shot of milk and two spoons of sugar. Often enough she'd brought him a cup into his office. Coffee with the colour of caramel that tasted even better than the ones he sweetened himself. He wouldn't be able to bring her coffee. He simply didn't know how she drank it, never had seen what she put into it. Then Richard realized, if he didn't remember her putting anything into her coffee, she probably didn't put anything into her coffee and hence drank it black.
"Emily", he kept hold of the corner of the sheet that surrounded her and she stopped in movement.
Raising a brow, she asked him to continue wordlessly.
"I wonder –", he stopped, once more pulling at the sheet, pulling her back into bed. "Sometimes I wonder", he laid a hand onto her cheek which was still heated and reddened of the late afternoon sex. A fine coat of sweat on her skin shimmered under the light of the sunbeams that found their way through the half closed curtains. The sweat wasn't only caused by the physical endeavour. The heat outside could be cut and even the air conditioner couldn't prevent it from encroaching through the chinks of the window and the old walls. Richard's mind drifted off, imagining the feeling of a fresh breeze from the sea instead of the stuffy sultriness that surrounded him.
"Richard?", his wife asked softly.
"Nothing", he smiled. He'd forgotten what he'd wanted to say. The heat made it impossible to think about anything of importance. He inhaled deeply, keeping the air long in his lungs to allow his alveolus to get at least some oxygen out of it. "Go, have your shower", he told her, underlining his words with a friendly pat onto her thigh.
Emily opened her mouth. Shaking her head, she closed it again and got up.
"I can't stand this awful heat anymore", she said as she came back into the bedroom. Crossing the room, she had the feeling to be rather in a cheap motel than in the bedroom of a modest married couple. The smell inside was sweet, filling every corner with the premonition of sex. "As soon as I turned off the water, I started to sweat again", she opened a window. There wasn't the slightest breeze. "Disgusting", she added, staring into the garden. The vernal green of the grass had turned into a tired yellow. "The lawn needs to be watered."
"I'll tell the gardener", her husband yawned.
"And the roses", she closed the window again. "They go limp."
"Listed", he tipped at his right temple, another yawn.
Emily looked at an imaginary watch at her wrist. "You should go and shower as well, if we don't want to be too late for dinner at the Thompson's."
"It's too hot for food", he stated, but got up. "Actually it's too hot for everything."
His wife gave off an amused grunt. He knew what she thought, just as he knew she never would utter the thought.
"It's the heat", he hence answered her unspoken remark. "It's too hot to think clearly. Everything is reduced to the substantial", he rested his hands on her hips, feeling the warmth of her naked skin through the thin material. "The heat and your summer dresses."
"I don't mind", she leaned her back against his chest, ignoring how his and her sweat were soaked up by the cotton between them. "I feel the same." She really did, although she hadn't known before she'd vocalized it. The faint memory of the last summer rose, the yellowed picture of Robert Tadman feeling her up at the pool did. No, she shook her head. It wasn't the heat alone. The heat enforced it only. Everything was reduced to the substantial, as Richard had put it. It was too hot to addict herself to her husband and her senses of modesty at the same time. Her physicalness won out these days. It blocked her mind. Only afterwards. She didn't like afterwards.
Emily felt the windowsill pressing against her pelvic bones. Only now she noticed Richard's hands had started to wander up and down her body a while ago. Something in her wanted to protest, not even thirty minutes had passed since the last time. But once more she realized that the temperatures paralyzed her and she bestowed it.
Still standing behind her, Richard opened the buttons of her dress and pulled it over her head. Kneeling down he kissed her rump and removed her panties as well. Amazed she looked at the mirror images in the window, his mirror image that kissed her shoulder and removed the bra. It was him. It was Richard. But it wasn't her. She didn't know the woman, she didn't know the strange female body. Before she could even think that they weren't in bed and he atop of her, her body already had adjusted to his hard moves and her brain stopped thinking at all. She heard moans from a far distance, she whispered his name and the shouted echo rang in her ears, the loud echo of the moans did, moans that weren't hers but the ones of the woman in the window as she shook with orgasm.
Still clutching the sill, her head fell back, her mouth met Richard's for a hungry kiss as he continued to take her far away from their marriage bed, far away from everything decency demanded. His teeth bit her lips and his fingers clutched her hair, while the ones of his other hand dug into her hip as he came.
He let go of her hair and caressed her back, eventually turning her around and lifting her onto the windowsill, placing her legs around his waist, his face into her hair. The glass of the window felt surprisingly cold and pleasant on her skin. Her forehead pressed against his chest, Emily closed her eyes and inhaled his smell while she slowly regained control over her body again. She needed longer than usual and almost regretted it came back. With the control came a distant horror that disintegrated the exaltation like acidity. As if to apologize for leaving his embrace, she kissed his chest and slid onto her feed. For a moment she feared her knees would give in, but they didn't. Emily bowed down and picked up her dress.
"Don't", Richard told her as she was about to get into it. "Please", he added as she looked at him with uncomprehending eyes.
Her tongue was dry and too heavy to answer, let alone a protest that probably would've led into a discussion. She let go of her dress.
Emily hardly said a word during the rest of the evening. If somebody asked her about her unusual reticence, she put blame on the heat. Everything could be excused by the heat these days. She herself excused her acting by the heat, soothed her mind with it. Yet, she couldn't soothe the aggressiveness that slowly emerged out of her annoyance about the people around her, the women, the gossip. Usually she enjoyed it, but that night she was about to strangle the quidnuncs, no matter how exciting the news was.
Although it was past nine, there still wasn't the slightest breeze when she stepped out on the patio of the Thompson mansion. By now the sweat was running down her back and legs in ridiculous heaps and her dress stuck to Emily's body as if she'd been running a marathon. She was glad she'd chosen a black one that hid any traitorous spots. Wandering around in the garden, Emily decided to cool off in their pool as soon as they were home again. Actually they've been long enough at the party, some guest already left and Richard and she easily could leave as well.
Emily sat down on a stone bench, which was surrounded by bushes, their boughs bended by the weight of the rank blossoms. The smell befuddled Emily and her mind wandered back to the afternoon again, the encounter by the window. It'd been surreal and yet the thought of Richard's hard moves and strong grasp was more than real, causing a longing tug in her lower body. She bit her lip. That heat. If only that goddamn heat wave would stop.
"Hey Babe", Richard jolted her out of her thoughts. Ever since "I got you Babe" was big in the charts, he'd a fondness for calling her that. Emily wasn't quiet sure what to think of it. Moreover, she wondered why on earth he looked like he'd just showered while everybody else melted. "I thought you might enjoy a refreshment", he handed her one of the drinks in his hands, fogged glass out of the fridge, clinking ice tubes surrounded by vodka.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome", he sat down next to her and they silently nipped at their drinks.
"Did I already mention how much I hate this heat?", Emily asked into the chirping of the crickets.
"Mabye. Probably."
"Maybe? Probably?"
"Didn't I already tell you it's too hot to think today?"
"Maybe", a pause, a smile. "Probably."
"So it might have happened", Richard smiled as well.
"It might have", she took another sip of the drink, enjoying the coldness it created in her mouth.
"An universe of eventualities."
"A torrid universe it is."
"Marjorie Hemington's sweat stains proved it."
"In punishment of wearing pastel green at these temperatures."
"Not to talk of Lisa Miller's pink blouse."
"Fuchsia, dear", she pressed the cold glass against her cheek. "It's fuchsia."
"Pink, fuchsia, isn't it all the same?"
"Fuchsia is darker."
"Not dark enough to hide her perspiratory glands run at full speed. That woman sweats like a horse."
Emily laughed low. "Everybody does", a glance at her husband. "Well, everybody but you. Why the hell don't you?"
"Good genes", he grinned. "Trix didn't even sweat when she had her five o'clock tea in the Libyan Desert."
"She was in Egypt?"
"She was everywhere. Egypt, Kenya, Namibia. She travelled with the Trans-Siberian Railroad and the Orient Express and spent two months on a cruise ship floating along the Indian Ocean. She even lived in Europe when she was younger and studied at Oxford and the Sorbonne."
As always when Richard slobbered over his mother, Emily felt a sharp pain of jealousy in her stomach. That woman was rather a supernatural epiphany than a human out of flesh and blood. Well, for Richard she was. "That sounds nice", she hence stated rather restrained.
"Nice? It's fantastic. I hope I've seen only half of the places she has when I'm her age. That woman drank not only tea in the Libyan Desert, but at the Zugspitze and Cape Horn as well. She drank Lassi with Mahatma Ghandi and played croquet with Elisabeth II before she became queen. And she won! My mother actually beat the sovereign to-be of the Commonwealth."
"They should've given the crown to her." Emily regretted the sharp words the moment she'd spoken them. "And they should give another drink to me", she added in a placable sound and moved closer to Richard. "Would you?", she held the glass into her husbands direction, putting on the most winning smile she knew to smile. "Please?", she decided to go a step further by putting a soft kiss into the corner of his mouth as he didn't react at once. His skin felt warm under her lips, too warm and good to not elongate and intensify the touch. Emily really didn't knew what was wrong with her these days. She didn't mind as the kiss was a perfect one. "Mmh?", she questioningly raised a brow and her glass afterwards.
"Everything you want", he nodded and took the empty glass without even realizing his wife had manipulated him with the easiest ways of a woman, putting herself into the centre of his universe again, shoving the thought of his mother aside.
Emily practically fell into the entrance hall, pulling out of the fall by twirling around like a top with her arms spread out. Shaking his head with a smile, Richard closed the door. His wife was definitely more than just tipsy, a state he'd never seen her in before and it was quite entertaining.
"Hey", she fell around his neck as she probably had enough of the twirling. "Mr. Gilmore", she drew out every letter. "What about a nightcap?" Instead of waiting for an answer, she kissed him. Their teeth clicked and she looked at him with a smile and a shimmer in her eyes, he never had seen before. Wordless, Emily took a step back and slowly started to pull the hairpins out of the French twist. "What about the nightcap?", she asked him low, her fingers running through her hair and letting go of it, a thick, dark curtain falling over her shoulder and arms.
Richard swallowed. "Vodka?", he forced himself to say and Emily's smile grew.
"Sounds perfect", she wrapped her arms around his neck again, her mouth shaving his while she opened his tie.
Considering it was the first time Emily tried to seduce him intentionally, she did a great job. After the rather unorthodox but the more satisfying incident by the window, he'd thought he wouldn't get luckier that day, but apparently he'd erred.
Richard silently thanked Peter and Absolute Vodka for the influence they had on her, just like he thanked god and Emily's morning exercises for the perfect body which was in the offing of her high-necked but thin dress and now nestled to him auspiciously.
Her tongue found its way into his mouth and played around his. No matter how inexperienced and reserved his wife was, she always had known how to kiss him mad. Richard lifted her up as the kiss became more and more passionate. Never letting go of her lips, he first directed them towards the stairs, deciding the way upstairs was far too long and strenuous, why he changed direction and pushed them towards the nearby couch. Lying atop of his wife, he searched for the zipper of her dress while Emily tugged at his belt, one hand pulling his shirt out of the trouser and searching its way under the bothersome material. Impatiently, she pushed him aside and opened the zipper herself, her tongue still playing with his, letting go of his mouth only to pull the dress over her head before she sealed his lips with hers again and opened her bra as well. Richard felt her bare breasts against his chest, her hands opening his trousers for good and pulling them down with his shorts. He'd never experienced his wife so impassioned and willingly and enjoyed this new side of her thoroughly. Richard placed her back on his legs and bowed over her. His tongue travelled over her stomach and breasts, his teeth teased her hardened nipples. How she demandingly rubbed her lower body against his erection and the low moans she made, drove him crazy. He wanted her. He wanted to nail her down and take her hard and ruthless. He needed to take her at once, if he didn't want to go mad. But it was her game. She'd started it, she'd to do the next step.
Emily did. She pushed the material of her panties to the side and guided him into her, a moment of silent motionlessness before he grabbed her hip and slowly moved her body over his thighs, taking her with slow and deep strokes, each one answered by a throaty moan. Her cheeks were reddened and she looked at him with glassy eyes, a look that silently begged him to help her to release. A part of him wanted nothing more, another wanted to use her current state. Richard shoved a hand under her back and positioned her atop of him again. First her moves were ungainly, but after she'd found her rhythm, it took his breath away. He wondered why they'd never made love in this position before, he wondered why it needed vodka and heath to tease out the passionate woman that rode him. He wanted to keep her, he didn't want her to vanish, this wonderful person in his arms that was more Emily than ever and yet he hardly could hold back anymore. Her body twitched weakly and, pressing her cheek against his, she paused. Her heavy breath tickled warm at his ear as she slowly slid down on him again, creating a moan that send shivers through his body. "I can't…", he heard her whisper huskily. "Please", it sounded both, enticing and despaired. Richard lifted her chin and looked at her. He'd never seen anything more beautiful and he couldn't help but smile. Slowly, he started to penetrate her again, although it was him who did the work now, it still felt good to have her atop of him and hear how their moans became louder as they mingled, how her nails dug deeper into his flesh and scratched over his skin as she searched for ease. He could tell she was about to come, her body told him, her breath and the sounds she made. It was new and it filled him with pride to be able to please her. Fastening the pace, he gave her what she wanted, himself what he needed. There was an almost surprised groaning as she eventually reached the peak, her entire body shaking. His wife sank down on him and he didn't need another move either before he followed her.
It needed a while longer though, until Emily didn't need vodka and heath anymore to lose herself. Actually, even years and the birth of their only child later, she sometimes felt that certain wave of shame running through her body.
And yet.
Making love. She understood it thoroughly.
Fin
ATN: Is it Christmas already? ;)
Thanks to Mel. Still the best beta in the world! Hugs.
And sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy the story nevertheless. I know I'll enjoy every single review.