Awakening Her Needs: A Hotwife Beginning Story (Her Needs Series) Read online

  Published by YRBS

  Copyright © 2015 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

  About the authors

  Find Out About New Releases

  Books by C. C. Morian and Blaise Quin

  Books by C. C. Morian

  Books by Blaise Quin

  Author’s note

  There have been some wonderful books written about hotwives, those women who have sex with other men with the complete knowledge—and support—of their husbands. Yet most of them start somewhere in the middle, where the couple has already discussed their particular interest for exploration, or may have already had the full hotwife experience. Though some stories tell of the entire idea being suddenly discovered, things tend to move rather quickly toward it becoming a reality, especially in cases where the woman has had a previous history of being with other men before marriage.

  Yet I’ve always wondered: how might this all work if the woman hadn’t been with any man other than her husband? How might she make the transition? And what if the woman had a traditional upbringing, who was always of the mind that sex was only something you did with the man you loved? Would it be possible for a woman like that to undergo a sexual exploration?

  Consider Emily. Somewhat shy, with a traditional upbringing, 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 realizes what he was missing, and they happily marry, Justin trading off more robust sexual experiences for very traditional sex with the woman he loves. Neither of them even know what a hotwife is. (And if Emily were told, she wouldn’t believe it possible).

  And yet even something as innocuous as a new outfit which draws the attention of other men can serve to set off a chain reaction of events which transform both Emily and Justin. It doesn’t happen all at once—no sudden announcements of “I want to see you with another man” or “I want to have sex with someone else” leading directly to an unbelievable sea change. But rather, a gradual, step by step, totally understandable growth in understanding hidden needs, and more importantly, each other.

  So if you prefer stories which dump you right in the middle of a husband watching his wife with another guy, this one might not be for you. But if you want to come on a journey to see how a woman changes in front of your eyes, to witness an internal awakening and acceptance of her own hidden needs, then read on. You’ll be amazed by how far Emily and Justin are willing to go, and yet, it will all seem so believable, because you’ve been there every step of the way.

  —C. C. Morian

  AWAKENING HER NEEDS

  Part One

  by

  C. C. Morian

  AWAKENING HER NEEDS

  I knew I was supposed to twist off the cork from the bottle of champagne, but I let it pop anyway, it was so much more festive. My wife Emily, who hadn’t been a party girl, ever, giggled, clearly excited by this simple act.

  I filled our glasses and proposed a toast. “To starting our bucket list!”

  Emily laughed and sipped her champagne, and we had a good kiss, not sexual, but loving. Emily wasn’t that kind of girl either.

  “What will we do first?” she asked.

  “Ladies first. You pick.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about this for months. It’s hard to decide, there are so many things I haven’t done yet.”

  Although we’d been a couple, mostly, for over ten years, and married for five, so much of what Emily and I did together still seemed new. Emily had lived a somewhat sheltered life; she’d grown up in a very traditional family and had attended private girls’ schools from the first grade all the way through college. As a result, she’d experienced very few of the things that kids experimented with in high school and college.

  Hardly a week went by when I was surprised by what she hadn’t done. So one day I had suggested that to celebrate New Year’s we create a “bucket list” of activities for us to share, with the goal of getting her some fun experiences.

  I had to admit I had a somewhat ulterior motive. Not only had Emily not experienced wild partying, drugs, or even something as simple as being drunk, she’d had almost no sex. In fact, I was the only man she had ever been with. We had started as high school sweethearts, her seventeen, me a year older. We stopped seeing each other when I went to college; I felt the need to date, to experiment. We dated on and off again after that, mostly during the summers, both of us reconnecting in our home town after returning from our respective colleges.

  We’d never had sex during that time. Emily always wanted to save it for marriage, and specifically, for me, believing since we first met in high school we were destined to be married. Perhaps it was because there weren’t many men in the all girls’ college she attended. She told me that she was still a virgin on our wedding night, and I believed her.

  That wasn’t true for me, but I had never cheated on Emily. I was truthful with her when I was in other relationships. I finally grew up a few years after college and realized what a good thing I had, and Emily and I got back together for good.

  So while I hadn’t exactly had a long history of other women, my experiences were worlds more than Emily’s. As a result, our sex life was very conventional; while we did have sex on our wedding night, for the most part since then it had been mostly the same: at night, in the missionary position, with condoms. Emily had been taught that the only reason for sex was to procreate, so she didn’t see the need for birth control, and while we both wanted kids, we weren’t quite ready.

  So my secret longing was that I could convince Emily—or even better, she would be the one to suggest—that her bucket list include a few new sexual experiences. She wasn’t even comfortable with oral sex. I dropped a few hints in the time leading up to New Year’s, very subtle, but I wasn’t sure exactly what Emily gleaned from them. With Emily’s background, we didn’t talk openly about sex; sex was something for the bedroom, and even there, there wasn’t much talk, just a quiet sweetness.

  I loved Emily so much, not only for her next door girl natural cuteness, but for her bright, upbeat personality and because she loved doing things with me. She didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. Sometimes I wished she’d do more for herself, just to make herself happy, and I told her as much, but she always replied that making me happy made her happy.

  “Maybe something you’ve always wanted to experience?” I prompted.

  “Well. . .” Emily’s looked away, a little shyly.

  Here it comes, I thought. Finally, she’s blushing, she’s going
to suggest something to do with sex. . .

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Don’t be ashamed, doing something different is the whole point of the bucket list.”

  “Okay!” Her eyes were bright, alive. “I know it sounds crazy, but. . . I’ve always wanted to go on a big roller coaster!”

  “What?” It took a few seconds for the words to register, and when they did, I thought she was kidding. I waited for her to start laughing. But Emily was dead serious. “A roller coaster?”

  “Yes! We never went as kids, my parents thought amusement parks were a waste of time and money, and I never did get to go. Can you believe that? I’ve never been to an amusement park. Can we go, Justin? Will you do it with me?”

  I locked a smile onto my face, I was happy for her, to see her this excited. But deep down, selfish as it was, I was disappointed. My bucket list idea had been a bust. “Sure, Emily,” I said. “We’ll go on the biggest roller coaster ride ever.”

  Emily got to check off her bucket list item a few months later, when the weather was warm enough to go to the amusement park. She was thrilled, laughing like a teenager, although she was in her mid twenties. It reminded me again of how much she hadn’t done. What had college been like for her, without all of the first time experiences most young adults got after finally living away from home?

  I couldn’t help but thinking about how limited her sex life had been, not only because it had only been with me, but because even with me it was limited. I resolved to try again to use the bucket list idea, not only because I was looking forward to something new, but because of how Emily responded to the roller coaster. She really did like looking forward to and experiencing new things.

  Why wouldn’t that apply to sex as well?

  One night at dinner I brought it up. “So Emily, your birthday is coming up.”

  “Don’t remind me! I’m getting old.”

  “Twenty seven is not old,” I said. “You’ve got a long life ahead of you, a lot of experiences to have.”

  “I know. I just want to do so much, and I feel time is rushing by.”

  “Anything in particular you want to do?”

  “A lot of things. We haven’t traveled much, not together, except for those times I was able to get off work to come on your business trips. I want to learn to play an instrument. And. . .” She looked away. “I do want to have children soon.”

  “You know I do too,” I said. “I just want to make sure we’re ready financially, and this project I’m working on may require me to be away for a while at some point. I want to be around when you are pregnant.” I was an engineer for a big oil services company, and frequently had to travel for work. Usually it was only for a week at a time, but we had just started a major out of state construction project, and I’d no doubt be traveling more.

  “I know. I agree. I just don’t want to wait too long.”

  “We won’t, I promise. In the meantime, I was thinking. . .why don’t we use our bucket list? We can add items to it, and instead of waiting until New Year’s, we can try to check them off more often. We can start on your birthday.”

  “Oh, that sounds like fun! And your birthday, too, of course.”

  “Well, the list is more for you, but okay, sure.”

  “So what should we add to the list?” asked Emily, her bright blue eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  Although we called it a bucket list, we really hadn’t made a specific list yet. “Well, you liked the roller coaster, right? So maybe something that’s even more daring.”

  “Hmm. . .How about bungee jumping?”

  “You picked that because you know I want to do it.”

  Emily shrugged. “I still picked. And I’d be doing it with you, that’s the most important thing. It’s so much better if we do it together. Besides. . .” she turned away, a little shyly, “I like being surprised.”

  “Okay.” How could I ease into this? It was a long way from a roller coaster and bungee jumping to sex. Emily was looking at me in excited expectation. I wanted to suggest something sexual, but at the same time, not make her think badly about me, although she loved me so much I’m not sure she would. Still.

  I tried to think of how most women probably learned about new sexual experiences, thinking back to my college days, drunken parties. . .Of course. Alcohol. The ultimate inhibition reducer. Emily didn’t drink much; she wasn’t opposed to it as her parents were, but their influence had resulted in her idea of drinking to be a few sips of wine.

  “I have one thought,” I said, trying to sound matter of fact. I really didn’t want to manipulate Emily, and I felt a little guilty about even guiding her thoughts, but I wanted her—and us—to have a really fulfilling marriage, in and out of the bedroom. “I know you’ve never been drunk. . .”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “Justin!”

  “Hey, it’s something we could do together.”

  “You mean, go out to a bar somewhere and drink a lot?”

  “We could do it at home. Not to make a habit of it, you know I don’t drink much either.” Not since I’d been married, anyway. “It’s just something you might want to experience.”

  “I don’t know. . .”

  “Just think about it, okay?”

  Emily shook her head. “Some of the girls I knew in college did get drunk now and then. I never understood what all the excitement was about.”

  “Did they seem to be having fun?”

  Emily considered. “Well, now that I think of it, yes they did. Although the next day wasn’t always good.”

  “We don’t have to get that drunk. Just get a little buzz on. Who knows, it might put you in the mood to think of some more items for our bucket list.”

  Emily seemed doubtful, but as always, she was thinking of me. She reached out for my hand. “Well. . .okay! Let’s do it!”

  When Emily’s birthday rolled around, I didn’t want her to remember it only as the day she got drunk, just in case it didn’t turn out well. So I made reservations at a nice restaurant and also decided to buy her a new outfit; she rarely bought clothes for herself beyond what she wore to the office and hung around the house in. I’d actually never picked out clothing for her. Married guys will appreciate how hard that is to do, even if you know your wife’s tastes. Sexy lingerie was out of the question--Emily didn’t own any, although it did give me an idea for the upcoming bucket list.

  Perhaps if she liked what I got in an outfit, it could lead to some sexy lingerie, working down, so to speak.

  So with a little trepidation I snuck a peak at her sizes when she wasn’t home. I’d also seen receipts from a few catalog purchases, so I kind of thought I was well prepared. Then I went to the mall. But when I entered the first women’s clothing store I was instantly overwhelmed.

  For one thing, I didn’t understand the signs. Women’s, Juniors, Misses. . .I headed for Women’s; I seemed to remember that the other sizes were for teenagers. I pulled out the very first thing that looked interesting, a nice blue skirt. But the size said 16, and I couldn’t find anything smaller.

  “Can I help you?”

  A really nice looking woman about my age was at my elbow. She was wearing a slim skirt, a silky blouse, and high heels. The blouse wasn’t cut low at all, but the way it moved on her body, clinging here and there, gave her a totally sensual look, as did the black opened toed shoes. Although my wife Emily was actually prettier, this woman was much sexier, hotter. Why couldn’t Emily dress like that? I had to stop myself from staring.

  “Uh, I’m trying to buy a birthday present for my wife. I’ve never done this before, she mostly buys workout clothes and office outfits, I wanted to get her something a little more. . .” My voice drifted off.

  The woman smiled. “A little sexier?” she suggested.

  “I guess so. She’s pretty conservative, but maybe just something a little different?”

  “Don’t worry, I know what you mean. You aren’t the first husband to come in here with this problem.” The woman pulled ou
t the skirt I was looking at. “Is this the kind of thing she wears now, or what you want her to wear?”

  “I can’t really tell, it seems kind of big.”

  “What size is your wife?”

  “Most of the things I’ve seen in her closet are a size 4, some are a 2 and some are a 6.”

  “Oh my goodness, she’s a waif! How tall is she?”

  “About five five.”

  “Well, you won’t find anything here for her.”

  “Oh. I’ll try another store then, thanks.”

  “No, silly!” The woman shook her head. “Men. I meant not in Women’s. She’s a Misses, Women’s are for larger sizes.”

  “Huh?”

  “I know, it doesn’t make sense. Follow me.”

  Which I was happy to do, seeing her ass nicely outlined in the slim skirt, feeling just a little guilty, but hey, it’s okay to look, right?

  The sales clerk led me to another section of the store. “What are you looking for? A skirt? A dress?”

  “I’m not really sure, what do you suggest?”

  “Well, when a man buys me an outfit, I like a dress. Does your wife wear many dresses?”

  “Mostly skirts. She has a few formal dresses she wears to weddings and stuff like that.”

  “Let’s see what we have.” She proceeded to pull out a number of dresses and held them up against herself.

  I must admit I thought Emily would look good in any of them, but I just couldn’t picture her wearing them, although I certainly would want to. Most of the dresses were tight and clingy, really sexy. “Those are nice, but I think they might be kind of a stretch for her,” I said. “I’m not sure she’d be comfortable in any of those.” Not yet, I thought. Maybe something else for the bucket list. . .