A Highland Holiday Pt. 05

A light tap on my shoulder let me know she was close to coming, and I sat back with my bare bum on the floor between my feet.

"Up Josie, Skirt off," she demanded.

She left my blouse on as she pushed me towards the window, my hands lay flat on either side of the first-class sign stuck on to it, and I pushed my bare arse out towards her. She fingered me a little, getting me sufficiently lubed up as she positioned her legs inside mine and pushed at my ankles, widening my stance before her cock thrust it's way deep inside me.

I watched the Scottish countryside pass by through veiled eyes, the beauty hardly registering at all as we rode the delights of desire.

As our passion heightened the noise of our lovemaking grew louder and more intense, I had always been a moaner according to Fi, and I couldn't help myself now, "yes love, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

If there were anyone in any of the other carriages, our sounds of lovemaking would have been a fanfare announcing what we were doing. Fi's hips began to stiffen at the end of her thrusts. She was close now; she leaned into my back, close to my ear.

"I love you, Josie," she said, then she deposited a full load of spunk deep inside me. As I felt it plaster my insides, my orgasm sent my load all over the window.

We disengaged and lay in each other's arms for a moment catching our breath, Fi went into her backpack and brought out a pack of wet wipes, then we set about cleaning ourselves and the carriage up.

"Now, that's what I call a train ride." I laughed.

Inverness was a pleasant town, we had a room in a small hotel in the town center, and other than the Uber out on the unsuccessful trip to photograph the elusive monster, we walked everywhere arm in arm.

We had decided not to be too touristy today. We spent most of our time on the walkway along the riverbank, pleasant on a warm summers day and perfect for people watching, we ogled tall boys with broad shoulders and dissed pretty girls who looked too lovely for reality.

"It's the highland air," Fi told me, "it's so pure it's the best treatment you can get for your complexion, that's why their faces all look so great without makeup."

The trip to find Nessie wasn't a waste of time. It seemed that every part of Scotland had a rugged, harsh beauty; every scene we saw was unique in its fashion and worth searching for. The hills which looked so pretty in the warmth of the summer sun, could within minutes turn frightening and foreboding as dark clouds rolled quickly over them.

The greens and purples of the landscape were reflected as a muted gray in the dark waters of the Loch, the smell of the gorse and heather floated down, to mix with the sounds of the waters lapping against the shores. It was a welcome warm sensory overload, I had only been in the highlands a matter of months, but how I had come to love them.

We slept late, skipping breakfast unless an hour sixty-nining counted, then rode the midday train south for another couple of hours, and rolled into Perth.

Perth was another pleasant small highland town, although I didn't see much of it other than from the back seat of a Taxi looking out the window. Colin had arranged seats and hospitality for us in the director's box of McDiarmid Park, St Johnstone's home ground, and we spent almost the full day in the stadium.

St Johnstone played in blue, and Dundee United in Tangerine, the crowd wasn't large, five or six thousand between both teams. My football experience was limited to watching the Champions League on TV, and this wasn't as slick as I remembered it.

Our assigned Chaperon, one of Colin's college buddies, a Mr. David Smythe J.P. listened in as Fi, and I talked about the game with amateurish cluelessness.

"It's a little more agricultural than Barcelona for sure, Josie," David said, "but it's a lot more honest as well."

The game was tied at nil-nil at half time, and we went under the rows of seats into a lounge reserved for directors and their guests. Tea, coffee, and sandwiches had been laid out, but David had promised us a traditional Scottish football treat, a Scotch Pie and Bovril. The Pie wasn't bad, a little lukewarm, but still edible, but the Bovril, gag, I was sure it must have been boiled off old shoes.

When we returned to our seats, David's son, also David, the fifth in his case, was sitting in his dad's place.

"Dad thought someone younger might help explain the game in a more comprehensible way to those 'Young things which keep looking at me like I have two heads'," he told us.

He was maybe eighteen years of age, six feet tall, clean-shaven, well-spoken with a slight upper-class highland lilt, and quite handsome. He translated the songs and verbal abuse the rival supporters hurled too and fro for us.

I'm sure the supporters thought themselves exceedingly original and funny, but when David translated the words to "my garden shed is bigger than this," I found it all to be somewhat silly.

St Johnstone scored in the eighty-second minutes, David and everyone around us jumped out of their seats with a loud cheer. As the goal scorer danced with the corner flag in an incomprehensible display of celebration, the home support grew even more delighted.

We ended up in the director's lounge again, this time drinking a rather lovely white wine, which just about removed the taste of Bovril from my tongue. I knew I could rely on Fiona to finish the job once we got back to our hotel.

An old hand at socializing with this set, Fiona was making her way around the room greeting people and passing on her father's complements. David was at my elbow, "everyone should have cleared out by now," he said, "would you like to tour the stadium."

I nodded, he grabbed a fresh glass of wine for me, and down into the bowels of McDiarmid Park, we descend. It was charming in a clean, antiseptic sort of way. I was a little disappointed I had expected it to be more rugged, unfinished, manly.

The one surprise was the large bath in the home changing room. It could easily fit a dozen people. "They are almost all gone," David told me, pointing to it, "Modern Stadiums just have shower rooms, we have those too, but we kept the bath."

He pointed up to a photo hanging over the dressing room door, a bunch of naked and half-naked men with bottles of champagne in hand were in the bath celebrating. "That's nineteen eighty-two," he told me, "we had just won the First Division for the first time when we renovated the stadium the Chairman insisted on keeping the bath, there are only maybe three or four others in Scotland now."

We had pottered around the stadium for forty minutes or so. Then I gestured to the empty wine glass. David nodded and held out his hand to me, "this way, ma'am."

We were walking up a rather narrow stairway when it happened, as we paused on the landing between floors. David pulled me into him, leaned down, and tried to kiss me. Now I was a one-woman, woman, but something instinctive overrode my better judgment, and I stood on my toes with my hands around his neck and turned my head up to let him kiss me properly.

He was pretty good, not Fi good certainly, but I felt the familiar stirrings of excitement in my panties. I was sure that a landing in the depths of a Scottish football stadium was not somewhere where I wanted to expose myself and gently stood back before my skirt tented and gave the game away. I smiled at him, "we've been away a long time, David, we better get back before we're missed, and I get in trouble."

He smiled, "sure, Josie," and we started back up the stairs towards the lounge. He was a nice boy, so I didn't complain when he copped a feel of my arse as we were climbing the stairs.

We were back in our hotel room, and Fi was looking at me suspiciously, "you were gone with David for quite a long time, sweetheart." It wasn't exactly a statement, and it wasn't exactly a question either. There was a tone of amusement in her voice.

"Well..." I replied.

"Out with it, no secrets," she was a little more forceful this time.

"Everything was going fine. We had finished the tour and were making our way back to the lounge when David tried to make out with me."

"Tried?"

I stammered, "well, I might have let him, just a little, just for a wee while, he's an adorable boy Fi."

"I've told you before to watch yourself," Fiona laughed, "highland boys are always randy and ready.

"However, I am a jealous lover, and there will be a forfeit."

She stood up and moved to a high back chair positioned to look on to the street below. She kicked off her shoes and sat down with her legs closed tightly together, "come here, Josie."

I was immediately suspicious. There was something in her tone of voice I had not heard before, "Nuh, uh," I said, "what's the beef Fi, it was only for a couple of minutes."

"Come here, Josie," she repeated. Her face was flushed with arousal; at first, I thought it was it by the thought of someone else kissing me. In a few minutes, I would understand how wrong I had been.

A third time she said, "Come.

"Here.

"Josie."

Wow, her voice was demanding, controlling, demurely I nodded and moved towards her, she grabbed my wrist when I was close, and then pulled me down over her knees.

"Fi," I shouted, startled by her actions.

"Young ladies should know better than to make out with strangers on stairways."

I felt my skirt lifted, then she put her thumbs inside the waistband of my panties and very slowed rolled them to my knees.

The cold air from the AC unit was blowing on to my exposed arse, and I trembled a little, partly from the chill, partly from anticipation.

"Feet on the floor, hands on the floor sweetheart, and keep that delicious arse exactly where it is, you're perfectly positioned."

Her voice was gravelly with lust, and I could feel her hard cock poke against my belly, then her hand landed firmly on my bare arse.

"One," she was almost breathless with excitement, it was moments, but longer than I expected before her hand fell again, "two."

My cock hardened as I lay over her lap, this was a type of foreplay we had never tried before, and unexpectedly I found myself rather enjoying the experience.

As each slap landed, I experienced several sensations, a little pain, but enjoyable pain, my checks would compress slightly then wobble as they molded back into position. From the area where Fi's hand had landed a pleasant warmth radiated out to cover not just my arse, but my thighs and the small of my back, as it mixed with the cold of the blowing AC unit it was a sensation unlike any I had experienced before.

Who knew I would enjoy being spanked, I threw myself into the role play, begging fee to stop, telling her I would never be naughty again with a slight tearful catch in my voice.

Fi finished at ten strokes, stood me up, and turned my rear towards the full-length mirror on the back of the door. As I strained over my shoulder to look, I could see both of my arse cheeks had been well reddened, and the shape of Fi's hand was still visible on my mounds of flesh.

She looked down; my cock was standing at attention, showing her how much I had enjoyed her efforts, I grinned impudently at her. She turned me around, kissed me, then pushed me back to fall on to the bed. I knew what was coming, and without complaint, I shed my panties and spread my legs willingly waiting for her.