The Muse Ch. 03

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A traveller finds life by being with his Muse.
1k words
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 05/13/2009
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Life

Wil ran through the woods. His targe was badly damaged and he had but one more ball and powder to reload his blackwatch pistol. He ran with his sword out and the upper portion of his greatkilt pulled up over his shoulders. The light misting rain chilled him as he ran but he had to put as much distance between himself and the English soldiers behind him.

He looked over his right shoulder as he sped along, Culloden was many miles behind but he had to put many more between before he could stop. His bonnet soaked, he peered out from the trees. He saw no one in the meadow before him and he had to cross it and the stream on the other side before he could afford any rest at all. He was lucky that he a small bit of bread and cheese. Most of the Scots at Culloden had gone without food. He used his dirk to cut a small piece of each to wolf down before taking one last look before sprinting across the meadow.

The high pitched whine of the ball passing close by made him cut quickly to the side and start to zig zag across the field. Then he heard the report. He was a fair distance from the English. He easily cleared the stream with one long jump, reports of the English firelocks sounding off behind him. He would only have a short bit of woods to cross before he reached the base of the cairn. And then a mad dash up and over. Hopefully they did not have cavalry.

Half way up the cairn he chanced one look back and they were only half way across the meadow. He had put a goodly distance between himself and the English. Now to cover the final distance to the other side and then off back towards the Hielands.

How many days had it been? Three? Four? He wasn't sure. He had no food left now and was deathly tired. He had passed many burnt out farms. The men hung by the English. Things had not gone well for the Bonnie Prince. He wound his way down towards the forest below. The mountain mists were starting to clear and hopefully not too soon. He hoped to reach those woods without being seen. As he entered the woods, instead of clearing, the mists became heavier. He had seen these types of mists before. Years ago on a midsummer night.

Wil walked furtively through the woods. The air was warmer now than it had been. He left his sword sheathed as he felt strangely at ease. Something was familiar abut the scene and then he smiled. Perhaps he had wandered upon a fey area and she might be there.

The moon rose over the horizon as he made his way through the woods. He wandered until he ran across a familiar stream. He turned upstream and followed it. Pushing past some bushes he stopped. A figure lay on the ground a short distance ahead. But she looked like she belonged there. Her body reclined on a bed of moss and ferns. Unclothed. She looked at him and raising her right hand she beckoned him forward. He furtively went towards her, first taking off his baldric and dropping it with his broadsword. Next unbelting his plaidie and dropping it with his pistol on the ground. His jacket, bonnet and shirt was cast aside last. He stood there naked as the day he was born in front of her and she smiled. She parted her knees and placed the soles of her feet together opening herself to him and using both hands now she beckoned him to her. He quickly went forward, his passions beginning to build at the sight of her. Crouching down in front of her he crept to her and she sat up, taking his head between her hands she kissed him passionately. As she lay back down she drew him with her until he knelt between her legs. Her body was warm and soft. So soft. Her breasts full and her hips beckoned him to make love to her. As they kissed she reached down and took his manhood in her hands and stroked him. He groaned a bit at the feelings surging through him and he deepened the kiss. Her knees spread even further apart and she guided him to her. He pressed against her sex and a soft moan escaped from her lips. And then with a slight rock of his hips he was in. Her quim felt so wonderful. Tight around his cock and her wetness allowed him to slide in easily. Her hand slid up his sides until she took him by the head again and kissed him hard. His hips rocked of their own accord now and his manhood easily slid in and out of her. Pulling him completely down onto her she moaned into his lips as he made love to her. Her hips moved in tandem with his and both started to feel a tingling sensation throughout their bodies. Wil's passions were aflame and she whispered to him "take me!"

Wil responded immediately to her and began to increase the intensity of his lovemaking. He thrust in hard and she rose each time to meet him. Suddenly she gripped his hair and her eyes went wide as she screamed out "Ooooooooohhhh!" and Wil could feel her start to tense. He was so close and knew he would spend himself in her soon.

As her body began to buck Wil felt that he was about to explode. The sensations coursing through his body were almost overpowering as she orgasmed. Wil threw his head back as a flood washed over him. Slamming into her hard and grinding he flooded her with his seed. Her hips rolled and she ground herself against him as he filled her. Both using the other as wave after wave coursed through them.

Wil collapsed fully onto her and as the moon began to set he fell asleep in her arms.

The darkness deepened and he slumbered...

Wil made his way into the village and to the back door of the blacksmith's. He had known the man for many years. Whisky was broken out and the Blacksmith asked Wil where he had hidden for the past year?

"Year? I dinna ken wha' yer referrin to?"

"Aye Lad, ye been gone fer a year."

Wil shook his head and thanked the fates, and the fey muse, for what could now be a new life.

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 15 years ago
Im sorry but there is a bit to much english

feeling in this. This story seemed to be more of a political rant than a erotic story. Yes the British troops(not all were English,some were Scottish) massacred lots of people at Culloden. But Bonnie prince Charlie and the Jacobites marched as far south as Derby,across the whole of the north of England! History is rarley as simple as many people think! Still the erotic part was ok.

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READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

The Muse Ch. 02 Previous Part
The Muse Series Info

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