The sun is shining brightly in the sky. Novel for July and for Perth. It’s usually pure dreich. The Perth Highland Games are about to commence. I walk through the hustle and bustle of the crowd, only passing a couple of activities. Caber toss, which involves using a log and flipping it so it lands perfectly, it is not something I know much about. Many are gathered by the oversized males at the Scottish hammer throw section. I am here for the highland dancing.
I make my way to the closed-off tent with my uniform bag. I remove my shorts and top. I place the bag on the oak table, unzipping my bag and pulling out my white shirt and velvet black waistcoat with gold trim and embroidery. I pull out the Campbell tartan pleated kilt, and I slide it up over my black lace underwear. Then I pull on the knee-high socks that match the kilt full of checked blue, cream, and shades of green. I reach for my black ghillies. I feel a hand snake around my waist, my heart races, and I see bagpipes placed next to my bag.
I turn, and I see him standing there just a couple of inches taller than me. His smile is full of bad intentions, as are his blue eyes. A hand reaches around my neck, and he pulls me in for a kiss. The kiss has me weak at the knees. His Irn Bru stained tongue dances with mine while I feel his other hand pulling me closer. The hand on my neck travels down my spine, as his lips move towards my neck. Shivers are left in the path. He slides the bag from the table.
“Eilidh, you bonnie lass. You won’t be needing these right now,” he whispers low in my ear. His breath on my neck stirring more within me.
“Is that right, Blair?” I say quietly. I feel his hand lifting a pleat of my kilt up my thigh, tracing around my black lace, sliding through the gusset. I know he can feel my wetness as I watch his smile widen.
“You also won’t be needing your knickers.” I watch him drop to his knees, and he proceeds to peel them down my legs. Then off my ankles. Before I manage to object, he swiftly lifts me onto the table. My legs go over his broad shoulders, and his lips kiss all the way up my thigh. My hand reaches for his dark hair. He breaks away, “No touching,” as he moves my hand to the edge of the table.
One long, flat-tongued lick from bottom to top so fucking slowly. My back is instinctively flat on the table. Blair starts flicking sensually from side to side, making me deliciously desperate with need. Every movement more profound, precise, and pleasurable than the last. He’s not backing down; my body begins to speak with obvious, undiluted lust profusely. I hear Blair moan as he sucks on my clit the vibrations travel through me like electricity. My hips move on autopilot towards his face, absolutely aching for every ounce of contact. As one hand grips the table so hard my knuckles go white, and I cover my mouth with the other.
“Don’t stop. Keep going,” I muffle through my fingers. He slides one finger past the threshold as his tongue gives my clit more devoted, devilish attention. I can feel the rise bubbling to the edge. My legs start shaking. I know what's coming next, but I still feel the need to announce it every bloody time. “I’m gonna cum!” Blair stops everything and blows on my wet warmth. My insides are screaming. “What? No, oh god. No” I see the naughty glint in his eyes as he rises from between my legs. His grin is so devilish, so deviant. So gallus.
“Haud yer wheesht! You’ll have something to look forward to after the performance,” Blair winks at me and bends for my shoes. I feel a little wicked as I pull my kilt down. I slip my hands through my wetness and smear it on the tip of the bagpipe mouthpiece. Blair rises smiling; of course, I smile back. He grabs his pipes and leaves the tent. I pull on my knickers and put on my black leather ghillies. I make my way to the stage with my bag. The crowd continues to gather. I lay the swords and turn to Blair. I see the surprise; he knows exactly what I’ve done. I watch him purse his lips around the mouthpiece, and he winks. I take my place, and I wait.
Blair starts playing the music for Ghillie Callum, and I address the swords, and I begin to perform on the balls of my feet only. Not letting my heel touch the ground. My legs start moving with speed in time with the pipes. Each note he plays tells my body exactly what I am to do. My upper body remains straight as the audience claps and cheers for me and the others dancing in complete sync beside me.
The harmonious drones are causing an unyielding rumbling to flow ravenously within me. Then, as Blair works on the melody of the tune. I know his fingers are working fast. My mind imagines them on my body. My arousal starts to weep as soon as the gracings hit my ears. The polarised reactions thunder through me; they sweep and stir. I keek at his fingers every chance I get. The tune gives my body the framework for how to move, when to hop, and when to land precisely. I concentrate on my footwork inside the quarters without touching the blades or the hilts and always turning counter-clockwise as per the superstition while keeping the blades in sight at all times.
My nervous system responds in a way I always expect. My stomach stirs, hairs stand on end, and I have goosebumps all over my hot skin. My heart races while I take in a lungful of air, time slows, the raw power, the dominance and intensity of his playing has me copiously creaming my knickers. The dance intensifies, and every hop, and kick has me so high, that I barely notice the end has arrived, and I bow. The audience cheers, and roses are thrown towards me. And the others. I pick up my swords and walk to Blair.
“That was pure dead brilliant,” I say with the biggest smile.
“Aye, you were, lass,” Blair states as he picks up one rose and passes it to me. Romance isn’t dead after all. We make our way back to the tent; my arousal is still running high. I start taking my shoes off and place them in my bag. I take the bag to the sofa. I am not here long, and Blair is standing behind me with his hot breath in my ears. Blair's lips start lacing soft, succulent kisses down my neck. His hands fondling my breasts, and peeling apart my waistcoat, then sliding it off my arms. His hands travel around my waist, lifting my pleated skirt. His fingers tease the fabric of my knickers, and he removes them with ease. He spins me face to face, and places his hand under my chin, kissing with deep passion, our tongues dance. I’m lost in this kiss; I can taste myself on his tongue, and it only makes me want him to fill me more.
My hands wrap around his neck. I pull him closer still. Our kiss ends, leaving me bereft. Blair lowers us both onto the sofa. My legs spread willingly for what is about to happen. I am aching for it. Blair positions himself between my legs. I shake my knickers off my ankle. I watch him lift his own kilt and see he is already standing impressively at attention. I bite my bottom lip. My phone rings.
“Answer it,” he says with a smile on his face. I reach for the phone from my bag and bring it into view.
“It’s the committee,” I slide to answer, and as soon as I do. I feel the pressure of Blair's thick cock slowly slide through the wet threshold, I gasp immediately followed by a wavering hello. I see the glee in his face and danger in his delicious eyes. He holds within me; my insides clench around him. I start answering the questions through a bitten lip. My heart is pounding. I know he won’t stay still for long. Blair starts to move ever so slowly. I watch him lower his hands, he unbuttons my shirt, pulls my lace bra down and starts to caress my breasts. My breathing quickens the moment he pinches each pert nipple in turn. I hear the muffled voice on the other end of the phone asking a question. A slight pull on my nipples and Blair moves his hips. I catch my breath.
“Oh Goodness! I would be thrilled,” I muster through the ongoing slow sensual sliding. My free hand grasps Blair's hips in a bid to speed him up. Knowing full well right now there is no chance of that. I feel like I’m losing my sweet sanity. I want to scream. Blair's fingers walk tenderly down my body. They settle between my legs, his movements more precise sliding around my clit. I can’t deny the pleasure that he makes me feel, any more than I can control the air that I breathe. My hips start to rise and fall with each tantalising dip. His body picks up speed, and adrenaline is running wonderfully wild. He is watching every single micro-expression my face is making. Another question is asked, and my head is floating. A few more glides and slides, feeling like absolute magnificent mayhem. Blair bottoms out, still circling my all. My eyes close tight. My composure is slipping with each splendid sink.
“Yes! Yes! I can fe…be there,” I splutter through each bated breath. My heart continues to thump as he changes his angle and reaches the most sensitive spot inside my wet velvet. I can barely see, but my eyes are open wide. I am pleading silently for clemency even though my body is lost within him, as it religiously relishes every circle. I can’t help a moan escape through my lips; my hand covers my mouth. I watch his smile grow as each unbridled thrust matches the state of my luscious liquid lust. Even more so when he whispers,
“No mercy.” his movements quicken relentlessly. I know I should hang up the phone. I’m so close to dropping it. The person continues to run through all the details, and I am unable to form words right now.
“Uh-huh,” I say, followed by a whimper as Blair speeds up the perilous pace. I can feel it now, the spike coursing through me, that involuntary clench around him, my legs slightly quiver. The smile on his face grows.
“I’m gonna… oh darn, oh darn…” I rasp while I can only hear the blood rushing to my head, and the echo of my heart in my ears. I drop the phone. Blair holds “No! Let me, I beg you.” I plead as I pull him closer. I’m so close. Blair lifts my legs over his shoulders and starts thrusting so blissfully hard, “Yes! harder. I need it harder.” He obliges, and I teeter on the very edge so seductively close. My back begins to arch. I feel the fire rise within me, my hands grasp at the fabric as my body climbs towards that expected unknown. He thrusts and thrusts, and my hips begin to match the rhythm, needing as much of him as I can possibly get. I feel like my world is going to implode.
“Cum for me,” his deep voice swimming through my head like a green mystical Scottish being, that echoes through the very sinful soul. My being immediately starts spiralling. “Give me my climax, Eilidh,” he demands. Well, fuck, that’s it; my body starts to convulse right before him. I can feel every single wave ricochet off every one of my extremities before I can even announce it. My back arches as I feel his thrusts becoming more powerful, forceful, and he empties himself within me. Worn out and spent, he gives me that one look as he pulls out.
“I’m feeling a bit famished,” Blair states as he lifts the phone. I know it’s not haggis he’s after. He smiles. Raises it to his ear, “Call back in an hour.” A cold shiver runs through me. I know what this means; I’m not getting oot this tent anytime soon. Oh shite.
