Enya’s warm kiss lingered along with her alluring scent which clung to the folds of my cape.
Ishga ; The fragrance from the Hebrides which had become her firm favourite. I watched the tram trundle away, lights fading. The sense of loss whenever Enya leaves, assails me yet again. I sigh and turn away.
I am complicated. That is the simplest way of describing myself. My love for Enya is equally so. Without doubt, she is the love of my life. I do not feel complete without her. Oh, I know she loves me unconditionally too, actually, that is not strictly true. She will not make love with me.
We have talked about it often. Usually, after alcohol is consumed, and we both feel horny. A few times we have come close, but she always holds back. No, she is not a cock teaser. She values what we have too much to risk changing our unique love.
Enya is straight. But she accepts without question, that I am not. I am bisexual. I love pussy and cock in equal measure. I love dressing in women's clothes. The sensual smoothness of silk stroking my skin is intoxicating. My lingerie collection is a sight to behold. My favourite is my purple Basque. It is several years old now. It led me to Enya.
Jenners is a revered institution in Edinburgh, so naturally, when I was looking for something special, I went there. To Le Gradh; The finest lingerie on the planet. The fact that it is hand-created on Shetland makes it exceptional. Enya is the consultant for the brand. She advised me. We formed a special bond that day. I have never told her that for me, love was instantaneous, the proverbial thunderbolt. She was chatting and smiling with a colleague. A Tall, elegant redhead with curves to die for. Her face was quite simply , perfect. Even from a distance I could see her green eyes sparkling.
I remember in minute detail every second of that day. I treasure it, as I do the purple Basque she sold to me, never once questioning my choice. She knew it was for my pleasure and not a gift for the lady in my life. That day she became the lady in my life. But she will never know that.
I digress. I have a hot date at The Witchery. I know how fabulous I look. Enya has told me. I pull the cloak tighter around me as I turn to take the steps towards the Royal Mile. Snow is falling softly, and the Christmas lights are sparkling. It is a magical scene.
I smile. A night of hot, adventurous sex awaits me. Underneath the short kilt, underneath the green silk panties, my cock starts to twitch. Ok, not entirely underneath. The panties are crotchless, and my cock is dangling through. It still feels warm from a special touch. Just after a slightly tipsy Enya had hung her wish on the Wishmas Tree, she reached below my clothing, rearranging my cock through the gap, breathlessly whispering;
“May this wonderful cock have all its dreams and wishes come true wherever it ventures this night.” This was the first time she had touched me intimately.
I step into the previous century which is The Witchery. It is dark, Gothic and atmospheric. One of the finest restaurants in “Auld Reekie”. He is waiting. I knew he would be. In the dim light, he makes an imposing figure; his dark chiselled features illuminated by the candlelight. Again his masculinity strikes me and anticipation for the evening rises in time with my cock.
He smiles that slow seductive smile that somehow never quite reaches his eyes. Always the gentleman, he stands, removes my cloak and ushers me to the place beside him in the intimate booth. His eyes miss nothing, moving from my black silk choker, down past the black sheer top to his place of real interest, my crotch. As he sits beside me, his hand expertly moves up my inner thigh, stroking the stocking top and suspenders, then my flesh. My breath catches as his experienced fingers find my exposed shaft. He squeezes hard as if claiming what is his. Then the hand explores the gap of the silk and massages my hairless balls. All thoughts of Enya vanish as he continues his actions in this far from private place.
The waiter approaches to take our order. The finest red, a Margaux Classified Grand Cru has already been ordered, my glass already filled. We raise our glasses and toast each other.
“To boundless desires and fantasies”. Scarlet as always makes the toast. He controls everything.
Time passes, and the wine and conversation flow. As always the food is exquisite. Scarlet signals for the bill, which he settles and bestows a handsome tip on our discreet waiter.
I don my cloak and we venture out into the chill evening. The snow has stopped, leaving a white layer on the cobbled streets as we walk to Scarlet’s apartment in the old Town. It is a short distance. We both know what the evening has in store for us. Of course Scarlet is not his real name, it is a reference to his scarlet underwear, not his jacket which is what Enya thinks.
The apartment is in an old restored building with views of the floodlit castle and Princess Street Gardens far below. A manservant opens the door and ushers us inside, taking my cloak before making a discreet exit. Money is no object here. I am not impressed by wealth or material possessions. That is not Scarlet’s attraction for me. However, surveying the scene from the windows and sipping champagne in sumptuous surroundings with a fire blazing in the hearth is a bonus.
Scarlet moves towards me, removes my glass and places it on the mantelpiece. His dark eyes never leave my face, as he begins to undress me. The kilt and top are removed. The lingerie remains. He lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is gentle at first, then as our tongues tangle, he becomes rougher, more demanding. His hands move to grasp my buttocks, again rough and demanding. With an easy movement, he pushes me over the arm of the sofa, parting my tingling buttocks. He traces the path to my entrance and none too gently pushes his fingers inside. I clench involuntarily, before relishing the pressure and probing. His erect wet cock follows. The sensations are mind-blowing, and my crotchless green panties are around my ankles. A few thrusts and he empties inside me with a shout of triumph!
Scarlet bids me remove his remaining clothes. His trousers and scarlet panties are also on the floor. We embrace passionately and move to the sofa by the fire. He strokes my body and his mouth follows the path he has made, eventually taking my erect dripping cock in his mouth. Teeth and tongue work their magic and my climax matches his earlier one.
He bids me to come to bed where we enjoy and explore each other’s bodies intimately. I am now naked as is he. Exhausted by our exertions I turn into the soft pillows to immerse myself into much needed sleep. Faint moonlight shines through the lead-paned windows, and snow has started to fall again. I drift into sleep when Scarlet starts to speak
“My time in Edinburgh will soon be over. I have to move abroad. This time my new commission is Japan. I never commit to one place for any length of time. I never commit to one person, until now. I am asking you to come with me. To make a life, to discover the mysteries of the Orient together. It is a big ask and I want you to think about it. Do not answer hastily. I will wait for your answer, the one I want to hear “.
A warm joy spreads through my entire body. This man has chosen me. We talk and whisper endearments as lovers do. His gentle breathing indicates he has fallen asleep. I lie in the warmth and security, watching the snowflakes drift down outside. Edinburgh does not always accept my ways, in Japan, it will be different and less judgmental. It was always my wish to go there.
Isn’t life strange? A few years ago I wrote that very wish and attached it to the “Wishmas Tree”. Now years later, my wish has been granted. Sleep overcomes me.
Next morning I make my farewells to Scarlet and walk home to the Grassmarket. I have promised to give him my answer soon. My decision has already been made. The Land of the Rising Sun, a handsome, attentive, wealthy lover, really it’s a no-brainer.
With a lightness of heart, a smile on my lips and a purpose in my stride I head past Mary King’s Close, over the cobbles to home.
It is a dazzlingly bright December morning, but cold. I turn the collar of my cloak upwards to ward off the chill.
Ishga! My footsteps falter, my smile fades ………..
