Scottish Holiday
written by:
Alden Bradley

Edward's eyes lit up when he walked in the door and saw me.

I'd pulled out all the stops for my visit to the pub where I'd met him two days ago. My basic black cocktail dress stopped four inches above my knees, legs clad in dangerous thigh-high black stockings atop my patent black, five-inch heels. I'd plucked and painted ever so delicately, and my hair was a dark riot of full, shining curls. The dress showed a modest amount of cleavage, enough to draw Edward's attention right away. The silver, two-inch hoops, dangling from my lobes, set off the whole effect, catching the occasional bright light of the pub and flashing it back into the eyes of whomever might be looking.

"Don't you look dangerous?" Edward said in his flat, American accent, stepping toward me, clearly excited.

"I fancy a bit of danger tonight," I joked. We'd had a bit of nuzzle and peck a couple of nights ago, when we'd met in this same pub. His green eyes sparkled then like gems and that's what had drawn me to him in the first place. But I'd steeled myself and made good my escape before falling for his charms.

"Let him wonder," I kept thinking to myself for most of Wednesday. I had wanted to take him home and bed him on the Tuesday night, but I'm a good girl, well... usually, and don't generally do that sort of thing.

Edward took both of my hands in his and locked those dazzling green eyes on mine, "Is it okay to hope you've come looking for me?"

"Bloody cheeky, aren't you, Yank?" I laughed, teasing and sticking out my chin. "I've come round for a pint and some conversation, that's all."

"But you are glad to see me, just the same."

I glanced away before turning my eyes slowly back into his, looking at him in a sideways manner, as if his personality would overwhelm me, "Yes, I am glad to see you, Edward."

He was here on holiday from the States. Not much older than a boy, really. But he was a gorgeous young man, and one I decided that I had to have before he left the coming weekend. He was lodging at Morven MacKinnon's boarding place, just down the street. If I had my way, she wouldn't be seeing much of him over the next four days.

He ordered his pint and we sat at a small table in the corner, next to the hearth.

"Tell me everything," I ordered. "Are you married?"

"Divorced," he said, rather miserably. "But I have a wonderful eight year-old daughter who I get to see pretty regularly." His eyes lit up when he mentioned her, "Isabella Amanda."

"That sounds like a good catholic name, Spanish?"

"Her mother is from Venezuela."

"You have a girlfriend, then?"

He shook his head, "I'm afraid I'm still in love with Amanda's mother."

"That has to make things awkward."

He shrugged, "I committed. When do I fall, I fall hard and for a long time."

"We don't have a long time, though, do we, Edward? Just four days and you'll be gone."

He looked at me as though I'd slapped his face. "Yes, but..." he stopped.

"Don't be daft, darling," I said. "Of course I came looking for you. I don't get dolled up like this for just any old night in the pub. I have you in my sights and I intend to have you."

"You're not serious?" his eyes were wide.

"Down your pint and follow me to my cottage," I instructed. "You'll see if I'm serious soon enough."

He looked unsure, "Just like that?"

"What do you want? Hearts and flowers? Trumpets and violins?" I laughed, shaking my head so my hair would shimmer in front of him. "It doesn't work that way, dear. We take the good that comes along and suck the juice out of it for as long as we can." I paused to take a sip from my glass, then teased, "Or maybe you're not interested in an older woman like me?"

"You're not old! God!" he burst. "I just thought, I mean... you're so beautiful and classy. Surely you're in a relationship or something?"

"Not at the moment," I said, lifting my clutch bag from the back of my chair, preparing to stand. "You're the good that's come along and I mean to suck the juice out of you for the next four days, if you're interested that is?"

"Hell, yes!" he almost shouted.

"There's one condition, though," I said, putting my lips next to his ear. "I'll fuck you and suck you until you scream for mercy. But the one mention of the ‘L' word and you're out on your arse. I'll not tolerate any of that mushy crap. We are going to fuck each other senseless, without falling in fucking love."

"I can do that," he said, sounding much more sure of himself than I actually was.

We went out into the cool evening air and began the short stroll towards my cottage. My heels clicked on the paving stones as we walked.

The door, as usual, was unlocked. I pushed it open and walked in, turning to place my purse on the table in the hallway.

"Some cottage," Edward said, with an admiring grin.

It was, in fact, a fairly substantial, two-storey house with a small garden and a wooden fence, which separated it from the road. It was cozy without being tiny. In the way seamen call ships ‘boats', we called our rather large home a cottage.

"We have our terms," I smiled. "It helps us keep our humility."

"It's very nice," he said, looking around the comfortable living room.

"Come in and make yourself at home," I invited. "Personally, I like the sofa with the lambskin throw. I'll join you there in a few moments, after I freshen up and get us some wine." As I walked toward the bathroom beyond the kitchen, I continued, "I usually I like a white wine, but tonight, I think something red and a little heady. What can I get for you?"

"Whatever you're having will be fine," he called after me, as I walked through to the small kitchen.

I smiled to myself. I've got him! He would follow me to Hell and back. He was mine.

A tiny thrill shot through me, becoming a warm, roiling sensation where I knew he would be entering me later that night.

We sipped the Cabernet in near silence. He commended the wine as he sat at an angle on the lambskin throw so that he could look at me.

"Do I intrigue you, Edward?" I asked, half-teasing.

"Yeah," he answered, with that annoying American shorthanded informality. "Intrigued is a good word for it."

"Excellent," I smiled at him. "I promise you that you'll have all the goods, know all the answers if you will stay with me."

"I have a room," he said.

"Yes, you told me. We can either send around for your kit or let you loose to collect it?"

"Okay. It's just like, toothbrush and razor. I mean, that's assuming I'm staying the night?"

"Not just tonight, darling," I cooed. "I mean to keep you entertained for as long as you wish. Did you have other plans?"

"Not really, I was just taking it day by day."

"That's the best way to manage all situations; day-by-day, hour-by-hour, or minute-by-minute." I took a long sip of my wine, enjoying the warmth of the liquid on my tongue as I let it slide down the back of my throat. "Like cum," I mused, "only a little thinner."

"Shall we go?" I asked my new admirer.

"Go?" he appeared genuinely confused.

"The bedroom is on the next level, dear. Are you ready?"

"I'm, uh, yeah. Sure. I guess?"

"Did you think that I'd brought you here for something else?" I chuckled lightly, standing with my wine glass in hand. "We're here to fuck, dear Edward. I'm ready. Are you?"

"You're certainly direct," he observed, as he followed me up the stairs.

"No point in beating about the bush," I said. "It's a waste of time."

My heels clicked across the hardwood, as I crossed the room to the nightstand and table lamp. The room was bathed in a soft, amber glow when I switched on the small light under the parchment shade. I turned away from Edward as I pulled back the duvet cover, quilt and sheet, which covered the massive bed, in three equal folds. I turned on my heel to face him, reaching my hands behind my neck to slide the zip down the back of my little black cocktail dress.

"You've done this before?" he asked softly.

"What? Fucked?" I chuckled, " Once or twice. You're falling behind."

"What should I do?"

"Come and help me with my zip, if you wouldn't mind?"

"I'd love to!"

"Then you can get naked for me." I turned my back and felt his fingers find and ease the zipper down my back. The view of my thin, black bra strap would give him something to think about as he removed his own clothes. I shrugged the dress off my shoulders, tugged it down my hips and stepped out of it, gently laying it over the chair. I turned, clad only in heels, stockings, black bikini panties and brassiere, to watch my soon-to-be lover as he disrobed. I smiled as his trousers dropped and revealed a thickening cock, growing under his briefs. He wasn't going to be massive, I could see, but he'd do, and quite nicely too.

"Come to me, lover," I urged, in what I knew was a panther-like purr of both invitation and demand.

"God, you're beautiful!" he gasped, striding across the floor, his still-growing cock bouncing in front of him.

"Hmmm," I purred again. "And should we leave on the stockings and heels and shed the rest?"

"That would be very sexy," he admitted.

"Yes, I thought you'd like that," I cooed, snapping the catch off my bra and carelessly tossing it onto a chair. I grabbed the waistband of my panties and tugged them off, until I stood in front of Edward, almost naked, almost.

"I know we said no ‘L' word, Edward," I said softly. "But, I'd quite like it if you would kiss me as though we were lovers?"

His lips were on mine in an instant and I felt my breasts crushing against his chest. His cock pressed against my abdomen and his arms wrapped around me in such a passionate embrace that I sensed the moment was loaded with emotional peril.

"This young man is going to love me," I thought, "and I'm going to hate him for it."

Still, I surrendered, my arms finding the warmth of his body as his tender lips and tongue worked on my mouth in soft, sweet caresses that nearly drew my soul out of me and into him. I tasted the wine and another unidentified flavor that would ever be ‘just Edward'.

After a few moments of this oral onslaught, I managed to place my palms on his shoulders and gently push him back. I was gasping as his lips released me, and my own dark eyes stared into his green oceans, as I tried to assess where he had brought me in just a few short seconds.

"Mercy!" I whispered harshly. "Have mercy on me, Edward." I realized that he'd consumed me, taken control, all in the space of sixty seconds.

"You brought us here," he rumbled, "And now I want you desperately."

"There's no rush, my darling," I murmured into his mouth. "I want to savor your taste, your touch, the feel of you under my fingers, lips and tongue."

The growl he let out was one of surrender, and I knew I was back in control, but only just.

I sucked his bottom lip between mine, testing it gently with my teeth. I smiled as he groaned and I felt his hardness twitch between us. My fingers pressed along his strong shoulders and down his arms. I had a target in mind for my hands and made the transfer from his elbows, where his arms bent to hold me to him, to his waist. I felt the firm muscles under his smooth skin as our tongues slid slickly across one another, sucking and licking, pressing and testing.

I eased away an inch or two, to give my hands room to maneuver between us. My fingers touched his manhood and I felt the heat of his sex underneath them. I heard him moan as I wrapped him in my tender embrace, not pulling or tugging, but simply holding him, firmly and gently in my grasp.

"Oh, Jesus!" he breathed into my mouth, as if in agony.

"I want this, Edward," I whispered. "Sit on the bed for me so that I can have what I want."

He eased himself down, his fingers trailing across my shoulders, gently sweeping over the swell of my breasts, until they finally came to rest on either side of my waist. His brilliantly green eyes had gone smoky and dark, from emeralds to a hunter green.

"What is it you want?" he asked as if in desperation to please.

"This," I whispered, lowering myself into a delicate genuflection in front of him.

Both of my hands gripped him more firmly and I guided his man-flesh to my lips. The tiny pearl of liquid at the tip did not prevent me from delivering a tender kiss to his cock. My tongue merely lapped up the slick offering. I spread my fingers wide and pressed him to my lips, tenderly kissing and tonguing the length of him. His fingers laced into my hair and I smiled, he wanted this as much as I did. As I kissed and licked back towards the tip, my right hand grasped the root more firmly. The last kiss never ended, I just allowed my lips to part and the head to slide between them. Edward moaned and I hummed; the joint melody like in the opening bars of a marvelous symphony of delight.

We were there. This was the sex that I craved.

I felt the rubbery pressure of his cock pressing into the roof of my mouth. I rubbed my tongue along the underside, licking and tasting his essence. My lips parted as they slid down the length of him, and I sucked his fleshy morsel deeper into my mouth. My mind was swirling with the sensation of his marvelous rod, stretching my lips, surrendering to my tongue and filling my mouth. I lashed him with my tongue, as my fingers sought out his sac, making him groan in ecstatic agony once more.

"I can't hold back much longer." he gasped. "You're going to make me cum!"

"Umm-hmmm," I hummed in agreement. That was, after all, the general idea. But unlike some who were less attuned, I neither increased my pace nor my intensity, I simply continued to envelope and gorge myself on the marvelous meat I'd captured. The few minutes I'd had him had already brought me such delight, and yet such yearning to feel and drink his essence as he surrendered and let me be fulfilled.

"I mean it," he begged.

"So do I," I thought.

He groaned heavily, hips lifting off the bed and I felt the first contraction of his rod.

"Oh, God!" he wailed, expelling his breath in one mighty gasp.

At the same time, the first spurt of his cum was suddenly in my mouth, warm, salty, with the consistency of honey and taste of the sea. I hummed in approval and appreciation, knowing he could no longer hear me. His ears would be ringing with his climax. Every feeling centered around that joining place between his cock and my mouth. All that he would feel was the way my tongue was milking the cum from his rod, down my swallowing throat.

I had learned from experience, how to breathe through my nose as I fellated a man, and I breathed deeply as he continued to pulse his cum between my lips.

"Breathe, swallow, milk it and suck," I thought, and I smiled, imagining that this would surely rank as one of the most remarkable blow-jobs he'd ever received.

Of course, by this time, I had begun to nearly gush my own arousal. I was not damp, I was soaking! I had taken this young man as my own. He belonged to me now and I would have my way with him. He would do for me whatever I asked and, in return, be rewarded with delights he had only just begun to experience.

He wept, "I'm so sorry, I tried to hold back."

I released him, not with a vulgar pop, but with a gentle licking and kissing until the final one, which was reminiscent of my first kiss to his tip.

"Hush," I quietly commanded. "I wanted this. I wanted you this way, to feel you in my mouth, to taste you and to drink you down. So, hush."

"But now," he protested, "it will be a little while before I can get hard again."

I stood beside the bed where he sat and wrapped my arms around his head, pulling him to my soft abdomen. "I'm sure you'd like to return the favor though?" I encouraged. "Wouldn't you?"

He turned his head from the side to kiss the soft flesh in front of him, "Oh, yes! Very much!"

"Let me have a swallow of wine, then," I said, "and get myself sorted out. I'm sure we can find a diversion until you've recovered."

I stepped to the bureau where I'd left my half-filled glass and took a couple of delicate swallows. Then I turned on heel and a toe until I was facing him, "Do you think I'm beautiful?"

"Very much so," he replied, almost too vigorously.

"Would you like to kiss my breasts and belly? Suck on them, then lick my pussy?"

His eyes had that emerald shine again, "I would love to do all of those things."

"And afterwards, will you fuck me?"

He nodded, "That I will. Yes, my darling, I will."

"Be very careful, Edward. This is sex, not love, remember?"

"I know, I know. Is it okay to love having sex with you, though?"

"Yes!" I laughed, "That's okay. Let's love having sex together."

Edward, it turned out, was quite a good lover. He was tender around lips, eyes, ears, and the very sensitive parts of the anatomy. At the same time, he was enthusiastic while sucking a breast, never biting harder than necessary for stimulation. And my pussy? The man loved my pussy.

That first evening, after a bit of a tender cuddle on the bed, some naughty sucking on my neck, followed by a full assault on my nipples and breasts, he had kissed his way down my centerline, tickling with his tongue and tenderly sucking with his lips. He actually taught me something that I'd never known. I could, with proper stimulation, have a fairly intense orgasm through the persistent French-kissing of my navel. As surprised I was when that happened, I was even more surprised when he managed to kiss his way down to my pussy, lock his arms around my legs and torso and, with an amazing display of leverage, twist us about until, rather than lying on my back, I found myself kneeling across his face as he lay on the bed. I cried out when it happened, but from surprise rather than pain. Once there, my new lover raised my arse and lowered my pussy to his face so that he could feast on it.

And feast he did. His tongue was amazing. He knew all the right places to test and touch. He claimed that he loved the taste of me just as much as I loved the taste of him. He devoured me, exalted me, licked me from arsehole to clit, circled round again until I was writhing and wailing in ecstatic arousal. He plunged his tongue into my cunt just to feel the contractions when I came. He could eat my pussy and tweak my breasts until I was a quivering mass. And once we had done, we would fuck.

Oh, did we fuck! Each new position was an exploration of stimulation. The first time, that first evening, we rolled together until I was on my back. I felt the rubbery head move up and down my well-lubricated pussy slit until he rested at the entrance to my aching cunt. I wanted him so badly. I pushed and he pulled back. I squirmed and he stayed poised at the entrance.

I begged him, "Please fuck me!" and he just grinned and promised, "Soon."

When I discovered that all he wanted was for me to lie still while he entered me, I became like a pliant statue. He captured my hands above my head, pressing them into the bed. Then, ever so slowly, I could feel him press. I expanded under his pressure. As he crossed the ring of my resistance, both of us groaned. And yet he still didn't plunge into me. Bit by tiny bit, his loving cock slid deeper and deeper into me. What I didn't realize was that he was watching me. In the crazed state of desire, I hadn't really noticed that his green eyes were locked onto mine. He was looking for my reaction. When he bottomed out, with his cock against my cervix, he got his reaction. I closed my eyes and groaned with the deepest passion. This was it, I determined, this was the exaltation, the agony, the joy of fucking. This is why we humans fuck.

When we next joined, it was with me on top, facing him as he lay facing upward on the bed. That's my position ‘the cowgirl' they call it. The woman is in control. Not with Edward though. Oh sure, he allowed me to maneuver about, to position myself so that I could plunge down on him. But then he grabbed my ass and held me suspended.

"Let me go," I ordered.

"No," he said, quite evenly.

"Let me go," I repeated. "I want to fuck you."

"No," was his firmer reply.

"I want your cock inside me," I demanded.

"And you shall have it," he grinned. "But we're in no hurry here."

Tiny bit by tiny bit, once again, he let me lower myself on top of him.

"Concentrate on the penetration," he whispered. "Feel how good it feels to be all filled up."

"I don't want to concentrate," I wailed, petulant. "I want to fuck!"

His cock slid through the ring of resistance. "You see how great that feels?" he grimaced. His arms were beginning to shake with the effort of holding me aloft.

"Yessss!" I hissed at him. "But I just want to fuck you!"

"Fine," he gasped as he let me go and I nearly fell onto him. "Fuck me, then, if you want, but these tits are mine!"

He mauled them mercilessly as I pounded my ass on him. We both came howling in just a few minutes, his spunk spurting up inside me as my cunt clamped and milked his meat.

I surprised him by moving off and licking away the remnant of our joining from his cock and balls. He laughed, claiming that my tongue tickled his sensitive regions.

Our third joining happened in the early morning hours after that first night. Both of us had drifted off after a mutual bath. We had rubbed each other with fragrant soaps and soft cloths, then dried one another with bulky towels. We slept naked, gently touching and teasing until sleep overwhelmed us. I awoke to hear his steady breathing and feel the weight of his arm across my thigh. His fingers rested gently against my sex, making tiny movements with his breathing. I eased my way out of the bed and went to the toilet. When I returned, he was sitting on the side of the bed looking somewhat confused.

"What is it, love?" I asked, concerned.

"I couldn't remember," he said. "Then I saw you. It's all clear now. Hey, I thought you said no ‘L' word?"

"Och, it's just a turn of a phrase," I scoffed. "Don't read anything into it."

"If I promise not to love you after I leave, can I just love you for the time I'm here?" he asked.

"Don't be silly, bloody Yank!" I scoffed. "You can't fall in love in a day."

"I'm going to the loo," he said. The word sounded funny in his American accent.

When he came back he snuggled in behind me. I could feel his member growing firm.

"You want to fuck again, dear?" I asked. "I love a middle-of-the-night fuck, you know."

"Uh-uh," he said softly. "I want to make love to you."

I sprang up from the bed. "None of that now, Edward! I'll not have you getting all morose on me. I'll fuck you all you want tonight, but none of that making love shit, do you hear me?"

"You will make love with me, one time, before I leave."

"Well, that might be and it might not. But don't go getting all misty-eyed on me. Now, you want a fuck or don't you?"

On my knees, with Edward behind me this time, he entered with that same, slow, deliberate push so that each of us could feel the thrill of the penetration. We began an easy rhythm afterwards which built into a crescendo. He pounded into me and I gave back fairly, pushing to meet each thrust. My tits were swinging and my ass ached with need. I pulled away from him and reached into the bedside table drawer, pulling out the lubricating oil.

"Spread this on my ass and put a good helping on your cock too," I added. "I want to feel you come up in there."

"It's not something I usually do," he began.

"But you have done it, yes?" I barked and he nodded. "For fuck's sake stop talking about it then and get on with it."

He lubed me up well and I groaned with impatience, as I waited for him to oil his meat.

"Hurry up!" I demanded. "Put that great fucking thing in my arse."

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Oh, for..." I stopped. "Nah, I've just thought of it and figured what the hell, let's try it. Of course I'm sure. Fuck my ass, you dim bastard."

This time the slow penetration was agony. The pain was not in the fullness, but in the waiting. Finally, though, he'd gotten himself sorted out and before long, his balls were bouncing against my cunny.

He pushed forward and I pushed back. He grunted at how tight it felt, and I just grunted for the hell of it. His tempo grew faster and faster and I warned him, "Don't you come until I tell you, Edward. Fuck your thumb in my pussy and rub my clit, that's it."

He was a good student as well as a teacher. He held back until his ass-pounding, pussy fingering, clitty twiddling got me off.

"Yessss!" I cried triumphantly as the orgasm swept through me. "Too fucking right! Come, now, Edward! Just let go and fill my arse with your come, darling."

Edward panted and pounded about four more times and then gasped his own release.

"Holy fuck!" he wailed.

"But doesn't it feel good?" I laughed. "I'm betting you could get used to that?"

"I don't know," he said, falling sideways onto the bed. "That was a lot of effort."

"The good bits come when you put some effort in," I said. "And that was one of the good bits."

Edward left on Monday in the morning. I'd let him make love to me the night before. He was gentle, tender, but he still wanted to watch. He wanted to see what reaction he caused in me. I gave him a good show too, rolling my eyes, licking my lips, breathing and gasping as he kissed, licked, fingered, tongued and fucked me.

When the cab came to take him away, I gave him one last, lingering kiss and told him I'd never forget him. Truth is, I probably wouldn't.

I took the photo of Garrow and I, at his ordination, out of the bureau drawer and set it lovingly in its usual place on top. The wedding picture was face down on the small bookshelf against the wall. I stood it in its stand and tapped it, smiling with fond remembrance.

"So, how was Lambuth?" I asked Garrow as he hefted his case onto the bed. He shrugged out of his jacket and began to tug at the white collar which encircled the neck of his black shirt.

"A gathering of the great blowhards and gasbags of our time," he sighed, "all of whom claim a direct line to the Almighty."

He paused, turned and looked at me. I sat cross-legged in the chair across from the dresser where he placed his cufflinks and studs.

"And you?"

"Wonderful week," I admitted. "Cousin Edward from American came by. We spent a lovely four days catching up."

"Cousin Edward, huh?" he chuckled. "Your cousin or mine?"

"Mine, of course."

"And how did Sunday go?"

"It was lovely. Deacon Carthan did a creditable job with the sermon. Not as good as yours, of course. But, quite credible."

"And you sat on the front pew?"

"Just as I always do."

"Cousin Edward go with you?"

"Oh, dear, no. He came down with an awful case of the quivers that morning. Couldn't raise himself out of the bed."

There was a long pause.

"They all know, Maeve," Garrow softly said finally.

"They think they know, my darling. But they're only guessing. In spite of all, we've been very discreet."

Garrow MacFarland, Rector of St. William's, and my beloved husband, gave a small grunt of acceptance and removed the black, collarless shirt, favored by the traditional clergy.

"Cousin Edward from America, my nephew Henry from Toronto, your nephew Charles from Sidney," he intoned in a litany until I stopped him.

"Thank you, Garrow," I whispered softly.

"What am I to do, Maeve?" he asked. "I love you so desperately."

"And I you, my darling. Especially for the wonderful gifts you give me for my diversion when you are gone."

"So, you are sated now?" he asked.

"Hmmm," I murmured, standing to wrap my arms around his waist and smooth his back with my palms. "Not quite. The thrill of the illicit lover is under control. But I do so love these moments when I can welcome you back into my home, into my bed and into my body."

"You are wicked, Maeve," he grumbled as he buried his nose in my hair, inhaling the fragrance of vanilla from my shampoo. "I can't resist you, knowing your body has been ravished and your sensuality exploited and you loving each moment of decadence. I love the way you wantonly surrender to your self-indulgence. And, I love that you continue to need me to complete you."

"And I do, my darling," I whispered, tugging at his belt and scrabbling at the trouser catch to release his firming manhood into my grasp. "This is the cock that I crave, even as I suck and fuck those others. They are just interim diversions. But my lust isn't truly sated until I have you back between my lips and between my legs."

I coolly dropped to a knee, pulling Garrow's hardening shaft from his trousers, lifting the tip with my tongue until I could suck the smooth head between my lips, burnish the underside with my tongue and begin the process of properly welcoming my husband home.