Call me Elspeth.

I want to be clear. I am not cheating on Richard. It's just that I finally have come to terms with what I am. Who I am and what I will become. 

I am special.

I knew they were weird feelings. I thought it seemed odd to feel them. I always believed that. But they would not leave me alone. Why should I not have what my heart and mind and body told me that all of my parts yearned for? All of it. 

Loren told me he needed them too. And he told me how he knew me so well. After months of learning to trust. 

It started innocently enough in the Spring when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. He was just someone who informed me he admired my work. I'm an artist in several media. I am known for creating literary works and doing illustrations for them, as well. And, at times, I've written and performed songs that complement my stories and poetry. 

So, even though I am rather shy, I did allow him to enter my world on occasion. At first, it was with letters that were forwarded from my publisher here in Edinburgh. He was always quite proper and respectful. When I had become trusting we did talk on occasion over the phone. Not usually texting. Both of us needed to communicate more easily and fully than short bursts of words would allow.

So we phoned. And then we Skyped.

At last, we met. He was right here in the City. 

Did I mention that my work is intended for adults and is rather erotic in nature? Which was rather out of character for me. Deep inside I had discovered the talent to compellingly express ideas that I had not actually lived and experienced. 

I had completed my university education and moved on to do my life work. I had somehow gained my boyfriend, Richard, who seemed just as shy and callow as I. But we two had never become as physically close as my dreams encouraged me to be.

Until four years ago I had still lived with my mum in her terraced house in New Town while I attended uni. I had my own room upstairs and Richard had never visited there. That's not to say it had not been a place of some sexual activity. It embarrassed me immensely to admit what I had done and dreamed about doing in that room. Just after entering uni, I had begun having these deeply troubling but compelling ideas running through my head.

Not just troubling. They seemed outlandish. Macabre. Sometimes even grotesquely sensual.

While sleeping I would dream of caressing myself in a way I never would have done while awake. It had always been a source of shame that I was so easily damp, even copiously wet, in my nether parts from a simple passing suggestion of something sexual. I often wore an extra pad down there. But why could I never achieve an orgasm from such self-touching?

One reason I was so concerned was that I had such seemingly abnormal urges. It did not seem that the things I wanted were appropriate or even accepted by most people. Surely these things were not what regular people wanted. 

But in my dreams, I would tease my shy pearl until I would awaken myself with my own cries of joy. I called my tender clitoris 'pearl' because, in my heart, I knew she was a most precious jewel, beyond price. Once or twice Mum had called up to know if I was alright.

I had lost my virginity to my boyfriend in a way we both knew was regular and normal. It was not what I dreamed of upstairs in my room. At night I would awaken feeling my hair grabbed and pulled roughly back, on all fours with my face pressed roughly into the bed, while I felt a thick member being thrust deeply into my minge, stretching it so much but being just what I was wanting. Continually ramming so fecking hard, roughly. Why did I want it that way? But, oh lord, so good.  

Sometimes, I seemed obsessed with bodily fluids. Drinking down the spunk from another thick cock after spending hours nursing it, licking and caressing, nipping the ballocks with my teeth, then sucking so vigorously he had to cum for me. Giving me my pleasure.

I know it seems gross but saliva itself was so sexy in my dreams. I would be opening my mouth widely as he dripped his spit down my throat and I would not gag or get ill, rejecting it. Oh, no. I would actually have an orgasm, crying out and disturbing Mum once again. Then I would want to return the favor to the ghostly presence surrounding me in my bedroom. Trading juices of almost every kind. We then spread it all over our bodies with our lips and tongues and fingers.

Even more, I wondered at my urges to have my arse made love to. I could feel the eager tongue coming at me from behind lapping up from my hairy gash to the winking hole. That could go on all night and I would be happy, but the presence surrounding me would move on to enter my bum with its fat pecker and pump me over and over.

In real life, it would not occur to me to ask Richard to do such things. Nor would he be likely to. I think. How does one ever know for sure?

But I could be certain he would not treat me in the rough manner I had seen in some films that always aroused something inside me. To be looking up into the eyes of a man who smiles and then slaps me, once with his cock, then with his hand. Just enough to let me know he cared. That was what ran through my mind. Was it sick? I don't know. I only know it made my lady garden wish to be furrowed. 

For the past year, I knew Mum had run her home as a small B&B renting out a couple of rooms. She did tell me with a shake of her head that, at first, she could never seem to rent my old bedroom out for more than one night, even if it had been booked ahead for longer. The guests complained of hearing odd noises, like moans and groans, and smelling strange odors.

For the past several months it had been rented long term by an older Yank who had never complained. He rented it for a week, then suddenly decided he had to stay in Scotland for much longer.

Then I started my unusual relationship with a veritable stranger three times my age.  

Finally, after weeks of learning more about Loren, the urge became too great to resist. I had refused to a great extent to discuss my work with him. But aspects of it did come up in conversations until we reached the point where I trusted him. He trusted me. 

And we both shared our secrets.

He felt the same doubts about his inclinations. They did not always fit his personality. I had felt the same way. 

Early on he was open about being so much older than me. At first, it had not even seemed significant. It had no reason to matter. It was only when we began sharing our erotic fantasies that it became more important, don't you see? Besides, I was in a committed relationship. I was surely not looking for a sordid affair with a man of his age. 

Then he revealed his true reason for becoming so involved in my life and allowing me to see into the depths of his heart and soul.

The first time we met in person was just outside the Scott Monument in the Princes Street Gardens. There, holding my trembling hands in his, Loren told me he had known me before, once upon a time. Looking into his face I had to believe him. At least, to know that he was not lying, whether it was real or not. 

We walked over to Jenners for some tea upstairs in the tearoom. As we sat there with our pots of tea and some scones with jam we talked. Or rather, Loren talked. He began by rather surprising me a bit.

"You know, Elspeth, I've been living in your mother's B&B. In your old room, actually. And what I'm going to tell you has a great deal to do with that room and that house. Please hear me out," and he held tightly to my hand. 

Strange, I thought, but no more strange than anything else about our relationship. 

He continued, "I originally meant to stay there for a week on my tour around Britain. I expected to be on holiday for about a month. I had that all planned out. But you changed all that. You were there, inside me, every night. Your thoughts and dreams and passions I felt through my whole body and soul. I had to know you. I had to get close to you, Elspeth.

"Your room is a Time Portal, Elspeth. You felt it, I know. You left vestiges of your essence, the very thoughts, and sensibility you were realizing as you spent time in the room. I had no idea that it was so. I simply ran across it by sheer serendipity. It was a happy accident.

"You see, I'm a Time Tourist. In the future, we have solved the physics that is involved and we use it for our own purposes. Delicately, of course. A Traveler seldom comes across an old abandoned Time Portal such as yours. They are normally restored and resurrected when needed. 

"Even more unusual is the fact that you are a natural Traveler. You had been sending your own essence forward in time to meet mine in this current time. The love-making you have done over the years you shared with me. In the past few weeks, I have been in your old bedroom accepting the passions you felt for years. 

"You must realize that our human brains are unique in the universe so far as we know now. With the proper training, it is possible to shift oneself through time. But you were a natural without being taught. You had been achieving the time shift through sheer natural talent.

"That and you had a portal there in your room. The two are necessary to travel the Spacetime Continuum. Oh, one more thing. The sexual energy generated by sexual activities is also a requirement. Do you understand now?"

It all made sense to me. That seemed to be the strangest thing of all. That I would accept it. But I did. 

That night I used my own key to enter my Mum's home. She was sleeping and so were any of her B&B guests. I slipped upstairs and entered my old bedroom. Loren was lying on the bed there with moonlight gleaming softly through the open window. He smiled as he stroked his thick cock in expectation, his naked flesh damp with sweat from an abnormally warm Fall evening in Scotland.

As usual my slitty was dripping profusely into my knickers. But I was quickly shed of them along with all the rest of my clothing. Knowing that Mum could hear and walk into the room at any time made the lust even more fascinatingly attractive.

Loren grabbed me by my brown locks, jerking me around and onto all fours. I eagerly spread my legs apart feeling him licking my arse, probing into me, soaking me in preparation. I turned around to look at him and he spat into my open mouth as he thrust his cock into my kitty. I was ready for it. And he leaned down to kiss me, sucking my lips aggressively. 

Slapping my arse with his hand I could feel the tingling spread over my bum. His prick was fecking me mercilessly but I needed even more, almost yelling my lust until I remembered Mum below. I choked back the scream as he pulled my head back, forcing himself deeper into me. For the first time, I felt a massive orgasm consuming me. He could surely feel my pussy gripping him inside of me. 

I was panting and sweating now as his member probed me over and over, slapping my arse then grasping my flesh to pound me mercilessly. I came again, more than once, whimpering with further need. 

I got it fulfilled. He jerked his thickness from me and then rubbed the cockhead over my arsehole. I began whining and begging softly and fervently. "Yes, my little lover. It's yours now," he croaked out. He jammed it into my little star and held onto my mouth with his hand to keep me from screaming out my joy. It did not take long. Within minutes my body shook with another overpowering orgasm. Then I felt the gush of spunk filling my arsehole. Then, after he pulled out, it dripped onto Mum's sheets. 

I swiftly spun about and took his cock into my hand, holding it tightly as I started cleaning it for him, relishing the taste and smell of his manjuice. His prick was so tender from the rough use that he moaned and shook but I kept licking and sucking, gathering all the goodness into my needy mouth.

As I had done so he had slowly moved around such that his mouth was soon tickly my slitty. He knew the exact place to find my pearl and how to arouse and use it. I groaned, still sucking him, and he began sucking my kitty, taking in my wetness, running his tongue from the bottom up to the top, stroking it with the rough surface of his tongue.

He found spots that even I did not know were there. At last, we fell away from each other, then as quick as anything we rejoined, our sweaty bodies sticking together, rubbing each other's body with our gentle, caressing hands.  

He leaned up on an elbow and gazed into my eyes, damp from tears of joy. "We're going on a journey now, Elspeth."

Where ever it was, I wanted to be there. "I've yearned for it for so long, Loren. You understand me. At last."

And it was time to begin again.