FarNorth trip 2, part II

As I was saying...

...Instead, with a quick hand to the hem of skirt Emma did throw a flick of skirt-tail that produced a flash of full leg-length proportions – not so demure. My reaction: “Game-on!” I know, what a twat. But, for me, that was the moment at which my mindset shifted. We stuck around in the bar until lights went up, and we were shepherded out towards our hotel fold...

So, somewhere around midnight we left the bar for the 3 or 4 minute trot back to the hotel. Immediately upon leaving the bar I opened up my hand for Emma and she took it. This could have been seen as a device for making sure there was no running-off-from, or it could simply have been my saying I’m very comfortable with this intimacy-malarky that seems to have been the order of the evening. We landed back with wind-freshened cheeks, and upon slowing the pace at the hotel entrance our hands naturally separated. A nod to the receptionist, up the curving one flight of stairs, along the corridor and I’m thinking ‘errrr’ – or something like that. Then! The most highly clog-footed chilled-out Dutch uber-courage possessed my ordinarily backward self and thus I did avail my room for late night tea (I know, I know, I’m cringing as I write this):

Shane: Would you care to take tea at room 34? I hear the host has access to some of FarNorthCity’s finest bourbon… biscuits.
Emma: Sounds good.
Shane: Tres bon - please ensure that I don’t scald myself: it’s just possible that I may not be 100% sober right now.
Emma: Worry not, I will eye you with- (pause, laughter)
Shane: Madamoiselle?
Emma: -with my eyes!
Shane: Mm, how very wise.

So, I unlock the door with plastic card, green light flashes (a metaphor?), and we move in. I abandon coat onto chair in the corner, and dashingly grab… the kettle. Emma, without any backwardness, collapsed onto the bed with a great sigh. ‘Indeed’ thought I.

Emma: Help me with these boots will you?
Shane: Of course.
(Zips unzipped, and boots tug-o’-warred off - gracelessly)
Shane: There!
Emma: Thank you.

At this point I’m standing in the room looking down (not a metaphor) on Emma, who is lying on my bed. Her eyes catch mine, she smiles, and then closes her eyes. This is a great device – gives nothing away (because of course she’s been playing it really ‘cool’ – right?). Anyway, she says that she doesn’t want tea - which is fine, I don’t think I do either. I sit on the bed, with my body turning through 90 degrees such that I’m approximately facing her. We are close.

Shane: Can I kiss you?
Emma: Yes.

(How detailed?... Grimace not dear reader – but be prepared for a most mechanical account)

We kissed. A good kiss. Not a peck. By my way of thinking, any invisible line had now been well and truly crossed. As we kissed, we were both fully clothed. My hands found their way around her clothed breasts, through her hair and over her thighs. (There is absolutely no way that Ma Wexford is ever going to hear about this blog). Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, breasts etc… through various shifts of bodies and general inter-twining-ness, I found myself to be lying alongside Emma. The kissing was good, but self being self I couldn’t assume that ‘going further’ was bound to happen.

Shane: Might we go further?
Emma: Yes.

Well, that was that cleared up. More kissing, and some unbuttoning, and some reciprocal disrobing - not to full nakedness though. Fair to say that we were enjoying one another. We were seeing, stroking, touching, kissing, biting, licking and generally goggling at bits of one another that were quite off the scale of regular social interaction – in the FarNorth at least. Dearest reader, I’m not going to put you through any more detail than you’ve already braved, however, let me tell you that what I saw and held in Emma was a turn-on of the most enormous proportions. We later collapsed into one another’s arms - brace yourself – both out of juice. It felt good.

The whole exercise was repeated - without a jot of alcohol - the following evening (Thursday).

As this all forms part of a bigger picture, and so related to that, here is a quick summary:-

- There was no post-coitus or post-drunkenness ‘What have we done?’
- On parting on Friday afternoon, as I headed for family and Emma returned to CityInTheMidlands, Emma said ‘It all felt so natural’. This was good to hear.
- Emma stated that regarding whatever ambiguity there had been in her relationship with Ed, that this had confirmed that they must split. ‘The big conversation’ was had last Friday evening after young Alex had been put to bed.
- Reports state that Ed took the news of Emma wanting to end their relationship very well, though he has also stated that his ‘seeing someone else’ has ended.
- Emma believes that Ed hasn’t taken in the fullest weight of their big discussion - (a bit baffling that one – but that’s what I hear).
- As the situation is hugely sensitive, both Emma and I will not be broadcasting information of our whatever-it-is in the immediate future.
- For the first time since FarNorth trip, I saw Emma for a few hours last night (totally unrelated to it being Valentines Day) – we talked and ruded.
- I received a text message this morning, it read: “Last night you made my heart swell, head pound, legs shake. Feelings linger with me still. E”. Though I’m no medical man, it sounds like some kind of ‘fit’. I hope that I am forgiven.

I’m not sure what this is the beginning of. I do know that things could not possibly pan-out entirely smoothly, however, we do have potential. These are feelings that I haven’t had for quite some time.
What shape my ill-hidden neurotic ramblings now?