A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 22

"If you can manage to get hard again, dear husband, I have one more place I would welcome your seed," Ailene teased.

"Despite the long cart ride ahead of you?" Stuart asked. "It may leave your bum a bit sore."

"We've dispelled the fires of our passion. Maybe you can find it within yourself for a slow gentle coupling for the last?"

"Aye, I can do that, I think; temper my need of you this once."

Ailene put her hand on his limp organ. "We shall give him a few more moments to rest, I think. He's worked hard the last hour. Frang hasn't yet used Isobel's bum; did you know that?"

"Nay, he isn't accustomed to mention his sexual proclivities to me. Only time I ever knew is when we shared you or he needed some time with you. Did he tell you? Doesn't sound like him."

"He didn't say. I asked Isobel if he had and she said he hadn't and it was fine with her. She'd never had good experiences with it. I told her it was my experience when done right, it was very enjoyable. Frang struck me as a man who would care to make sure she enjoyed it. I didn't tell her how I knew; how Frang was the first to use me; to take my anal virginity."

"You've never spoken about it with Isobel; how we all used you."

"Nay, husband. I'm too ashamed of it. I'm sure it would bother Isobel to know I willingly participated in such a thing."

"You weren't happy about doing so, nor enthusiastic," Stuart said. "You did it out of love for me. I pressured you into doing it."

"Aye, you pressured me, but the decision was always left up to me. I wasn't forced. I accepted your reasoning, as wrong as it felt to me at the time. I'm equally responsible for it happening. Isobel so detested being loaned to others to pay her husband's debts. How would she feel about me knowing I'd accepted all three of you? I'm not sure we would remain friends. Right now, she loves and respects Frang. How would she feel about him knowing he's used his brother's wife? I don't think she can ever know."

"I suppose you're right."

Ailene, who'd kept a loose grip on Stuart's cock as they spoke, noted it beginning to grow in her hand. "What would you be thinking about right now to cause a cock stand, Mr. Cameron?"

"As bad as you now feel about allowing yourself to be used by all three of us, I recall a certain time in the stable when Frang and I shared you together. You were so tight, being filled with two cocks at the same time, and I seem to remember how hard you climaxed." His cock grew even harder as he spoke.

Ailene kissed him, then said, "I'm not saying it didn't have it's pleasurable moments, husband. All of you Cameron boys are well able to please a woman. The gratification was never at question, only the morality of it and the shame I felt not being faithful to my husband. It made it worse for me your brothers could make me orgasm as well as you. I thought you should be only one to make me feel that way. I was guilty all of you could. That time in the stables was special to me as well, because you were there with me. At least you were responsible for some of the pleasure I experienced. Well, it appears you're now ready to do your duty your wife, Mr. Cameron," she said fondling his now rigid shaft. "I suppose I should lubricate it properly should I want to sit easily on the ride home."

Ailene bent down and took his familiar cock into her mouth, making sure to bathe it in a lick layer of saliva, making it very wet. They were still lying in a loose sixty-nine from their earlier oral pleasures and Stuart licked at her wrinkled rosebud to give it a similar coating of saliva, Ailene parting her legs to give him greater access to her nether regions. After licking her, Stuart placed his fingers in her cunt, to gather the moisture of their previous coupling and spread it around her brown shaded sphincter.

"Now, Stuart, fuck me now," Ailene moaned, surrendering his cock from her mouth.

She got on her knees, her face and chest against the bed, and closed her eyes. She felt Stuart kneel behind her and he dipped his cock in her cunt for a couple quick thrusts to further lubricate it before she felt it pushing at her bum hole. She relaxed as best she could and she felt the sphincter begin to part as he slowly muscled his way past the protective barrier. He was so slow and gentle with his assault she was somewhat surprised when she felt his sack slap against the lips of her cunt. He had buried himself in her ass.

Stuart held still for over a minute, allowing her to become accustomed to the penetration. When he felt her start to squeeze down on him, he knew she was ready for his movement and he started sliding out, going to just before the crown of his cock would leave her body and the muscular ring was clasping so tightly under the rim, then pushed back in. He thrilled to the moans of satisfaction Ailene was making with the slow fucking of her ass. Slow and steady, back and forth, the pressure on his cock delightful in it's intensity.

"Faster love," Ailene panted. "You can't hurt me now, it feels so good."

Stuart reached down to begin stroking her mound, paying much attention to her clitoris. Ailene moaned louder. He increased the pace of his thrusting, not ramming her yet, but moving twice the speed as before. Ailene was easily accepting the fucking, her ass plunging back in tempo with his forward plunges. As he increased the speed and force of his plunges into her fundament, his fingers increased the rubbing of her clitoris, poking proudly from her folds.

"I'm going to cum, Stuart, it feels so good. Will you be able to cum with me?"

"If I speed up," he replied.

"You can go faster. I'm open to you now," she panted. "You can't hurt me."

The pace of his fucking picked up, finding a good rhythm to reach his release. His abdomen was slamming into her buttocks and his balls slapping against her cunt as he rammed his cock deep in her bowels.

"I cum," Ailene said, and Stuart felt the exquisite contractions of her release on his prick, sending him past the point of no return as well. He grunted and slammed into her as he felt the surge of cream up his cock to spew deep in her bottom. When all their primary pulsations ended, Ailene collapsed to the bed, Stuart still deep within her. To avoid crushing her, he turned as he collapsed, pulling her with him so he fell on his side, still buried in her. Delightful aftershock vibrations kept her occasionally bearing down on him, draining what little he had left to give her until he started to shrink. Eventually, one of her final contractions squeezed his limp organ from her bum with a slight pop.

Stuart curled against her back, idly caressing her breast. Ailene's hand was on his hip pulling him against her.

"I spoke to Bjarkë while you were at the magistrates."

"About what, Stuart?" Ailene asked.

"I asked about the men standing guard on you and Isobel. Who they were and if they were capable of keeping their mouths shut."

"Why?" She asked.

"If on occasion, you were particularly lonely and wanted some company for the night, if they would gossip about you going into Frang's and Isobel's room or if they could be depended upon to ignore it, given I had no issues with it."

"What did he say?" Ailene asked, curious.

"'If you have no problem with your wife in another man's room,' Bjarkë said, 'I'm sure we can trust them to keep quiet about it.' It's not to have sex,' I told him, 'Ailene gets lonely sometimes without another body beside hers. They'd all be dressed and any coupling between Frang and Isobel would be done before you arrived or after you'd left.' I'm sure he had other questions about it, but he said no more about it, save he'd tell them it'd be worth their hides if they spoke of it out of turn."

"You would not care if I went to them?"

"Nay. Given you've already refused to have more sex with my brothers, I trust you implicitly. Even if you chose to do so, I'd not care, though I'd wish to be told it's what you're doing."

"Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I don't foresee Isobel agreeing to such an arrangement. It would mean telling her all the things I'm too ashamed to tell her now. If it weren't for the fact she suggested it, I'd never consider asking. I'm not sure now if I'd take her up on her offer though it's nice to have the choice. Thank you, Stuart. You're a good man and I love you so much."

"If you do go," Stuart said, "you might want to mention you're concerned for her pregnancy, and I've agreed you may need to keep a close eye on her. It might help dispel any doubts your guards have about the arrangement."

Ailene turned and hugged him fiercely. "It's only been a couple hours, Stuart. I say we try to encourage your little man to do his duty one more time. Give me something more to remember you by during the long weeks ahead."

"I'm willing to exert myself to perform my marital duties, love. What would you have me do?"

"Lie still for now while I get a cloth and water to wash us off with. I'm feeling sticky."

Ailene got up, poured some water in the basin and rinsed a hotel cloth in the water. After wringing it out, she returned to Stuart with a impish grin on her face.

******

Frang and Isobel were able to sell their goods for a good price and together they strolled down to the gambling establishment. Frang knocked and they let him in upon seeing who it was. He was a frequent visitor, or had been at one time. He was still fairly regular. Both Isobel and Frang went to the card room and Frang looked around. There were quite a few regulars including his old acquaintance, Abner McTavish.

"Gentlemen," Frang nodded to them, "McTavish, I would think you're a little too hard up for cash to still be gambling."

"I've managed to win a bit, Mr. Cameron. My luck has changed a bit since last we played."

"That's why you keep losing, McTavish. You think playing cards is a matter of luck instead of skill. If it was strictly luck, at the end of the night, we'd all end up even because the luck would have gone back and forth, all around the table. You have no skill. You depend on luck and no one stays lucky."

"Despite what you think, Mr. high and mighty Cameron, I'm feeling lucky right now and I got some money right here you haven't taken off of me, so what say you shut up, sit down and play."

"Aye, if you want to lose some more money, it's no skin off my hide. Deal the cards."

Abner started dealing the cards. "I see you brought that little whore of my ex-wife with you."

Frang stood up from the table and kicked his chair back. "McTavish, you're a stupid fuck and just this once I'm going excuse your poor choice of words, but you just called my wife a whore and if you don't apologize right now, I'm going to haul your ass out that door and whip your fat ugly self to within an inch of death. The choice is entirely yours."

The rest of the men pushed back from the table and gave Frang a straight shot at Abner if he pushed the table out of the way.

Abner looked at Frang and realized he was standing on a razor's edge. The anger in his eyes and tension in his voice was crystal clear to McTavish. He knew Frang would do exactly what he said. At heart, McTavish was a coward and he did not like the idea of facing Frang in anything like a fair fight. It was the reason he was hoping to break him by taking his money.

"I'm sorry," he said, directed to Frang.

"Not to me! Apologize to Isobel, you ignorant lout. And make it sincere."

"I'm sorry I called you a whore," McTavish said, loud enough for all to hear.

"Is it satisfactory?" Frang asked Isobel.

"I don't expect much of him," Isobel said. "What he says means nothing to me."

Frang nodded and sat back down. McTavish breathed a little easier and finished dealing the cards. Isobel sat behind him, watching as they played the game. Frang warned Isobel he couldn't discuss the game while they were playing but if she had questions, to remember what they were and he would answer all of her questions later. Isobel nodded in understanding. The play started.

Having every expectation play would go exactly as it had every other time, Frang took out the money from the sale of their goods this morning. In an hour, he had lost most of it. Never had play gone so bad as it was today. Every time he had a good hand, McTavish folded, every time he bluffed, McTavish bet on, sometimes foolishly so, but still he won. The other players, playing cautiously, were losing far less than Frang, though all of them were losing by various degrees. Frang, playing as he always did, confident in his abilities to read other players was betting more and losing more. The pile of money in front of McTavish was growing by leaps and bounds, the money in front of Frang dissipating to a few silvers. There was no way McTavish had gotten this good since the last time Frang played him. Was it luck, blind luck, defeating him now?

"Your deal," the player to the right of Frang passed him the cards. He idly picked them up and started riffling the deck, not even shuffling, merely thinking of his position and the money he'd lost. Frang wasn't concerned for the money, he had sufficient funds on him to lose twice what he'd lost already, but he was concerned for his apparent lack of skill and the rapid improvement of McTavish's game.

"I see you're down substantially, Cameron. If it comes to it, I'd gladly take Isobel off your hands. Now you've fattened her up some, she looks good enough to fuck," Abner said, confidently. "She might be worth a few silver coins now."

Frang said nothing, still riffling the cards in his hands. He'd noticed something. The cards patterns on the back seemed to jump around as the cards fell through his fingers. He tried shuffling and noticed the same thing. The pattern on the back wasn't consistent. It wasn't off by much, but, it wasn't identical.

Isobel was concerned. Not only hadn't Frang responded to the insult, he hadn't responded to the jibe either, as if he might seriously be considering Abner's offer. She kept waiting for him to reply and she grew increasingly angry when he didn't. Damn, she knew this would happen. She stood up and slapped Frang across the face, shocking him out of his reverie.

"You bastard, I knew I should never have married another gambler. You let him insult me and you consider his fucking offer?"

"What?" He said, rubbing his cheek, failing to understand her anger, having barely heard what McTavish said.

"McTavish has offered to take me for a bet and you sit there like a lump as if you're seriously considering his offer." She stormed out of the room.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to speak to my wife." He set the cards down and followed her out of the room.

Frang caught up to her as she was about to walk out of the gambling establishment. He grabbed her arm and she turned to slap him again as she tried to shake him off.

Frang blocked her hand before it reached his face and he pulled her close to him so he could whisper in her ear.

"I'd never bet you in a card game, or any other gamble, my Love. I'm not McTavish and I care for you too deeply to ever risk you in such a way. My time with you has been the best of my life."

"Why did you not say anything then? Why did you let him think I might be for sale?" Isobel whispered back.

"I barely registered what he said. I noticed something funny about the cards and I think I'm being cheated. This is good. I think we can use this to our benefit. I'm going to get a glass of wine while I'm out here. I want you to come back inside with me as if you've calmed down a little but you're still angry. In a few minutes, when the situation presents, get angry again and hit me hard. It should be about money. I've got some more with me. When I pull it out, start arguing with me. When you hit me, I'm going to spill the wine on the cards."

"You want me to hit you?"

"Aye! Real hard; make it authentic. When you hit me, I'll knock over the wine and spill it on the cards. Then we'll get a new deck and see if Mr. McTavish's luck continues. Are you ready?"

"Why not," Isobel replied.

Frang got a large glass of red and walked back into the card room softly whispering to Isobel, as if still trying to convince her of something. He was saying nothing, but he wanted everyone to think he was still smoothing things out.

"Finally calm down your wife, Cameron. I can take her off your hands," McTavish said, laughing. "I know how to tame the likes of her."

Frang glared at him. "I'll thank you to shut the fuck up! You're not helping matters. I'll not warn you again."

McTavish shut up again. Isobel kept a scowl on her face but sat down as well.

"Are you going to deal the cards then," the player to Frang's left said. Frang didn't know his name, he'd only played a couple times before.

"Certainly." Frang shuffled a couple more times and started dealing the cards. Isobel watched patiently, waiting for a signal she knew would come. Game play started and the betting started. Frang didn't have a lot of coins in front of him. It didn't take long for him to have none.

"You can put up your property," McTavish said. "I'd be happy to take it back."

"I don't have to do that," Frang said. "I have a lot more money," and he pulled another small pouch out of his sporran.

Isobel said, "I can't believe you. You've already lost every bit of money from our sales this morning. You're going to risk our winter funds, too. Why not quit? Why must you keep gambling?"

Frang set his glass down close to the balance of the deck and two of the hands. "I'll win it all back," Frang said. "Don't worry, Isobel. This is a man's business. I don't expect you to understand. Just keep quiet and mind your place."

Isobel didn't know why he said what he did. She'd caught the signal easy enough. Maybe he wanted to ensure she would hit him hard enough. God only knew she was ready to clock him now. She stood up and slapped him hard. It was like a gunshot in the enclosed space and Frang fell over, toppling his wine glass into the deck and the two closer hands. It couldn't have been better executed. Isobel stormed out of the room, barely suppressing a laugh. Frang wanted it to be real; he got his wish. They heard the door slam as she left.

"You're not going to go after her are you?" McTavish asked. "We're gambling here."

"Nay, she'll cool down after I win my money back. Let's get back to the game." He glanced down at the table. "Damn, spilled my drink all over the cards. I'll ask the proprietor for another deck."

"Why not continue using these?" McTavish said.

"Some are too wet to hold upright and we'll soon be able to tell who holds what cards from the wine stains on them. We definitely require a new deck."

"He's right, McTavish." One of the other gamblers said, "These are ruined. We need another deck and a new tablecloth. I'm already out. Finish playing the hand while I get new cards."

McTavish was somewhat worried. This was the only deck of marked cards he'd brought with him. The practice deck was worn and even if they weren't, if he tried to introduce a new deck, his fraud might be discovered. But he was feeling invincible. He had a large stack of money in front of him now, most of it belonging to the other gamblers, and he'd always believed himself a moderately good card player. Surely he could hold his own with the pile in front of him.

"Aye, get the cards. Finish the hand, Cameron," McTavish agreed, his ego getting the better of him.

Frang finished the hand, McTavish winning again. When Frang gathered the ruined cards, he set them aside, hoping to take them and study them more closely after they were finished.

"I think I'll skip the wine," Frang said, rubbing his jaw, "in case the wife should come back. She's stronger than she looks," drawing laughs from everyone.

Two new decks of cards and new tablecloth were brought in and the old was taken out. The deal passed to the left and the cards were dealt again. Frang watched closely as the cards were shuffled. The backs of the cards were similar, but he didn't see the strange fluctuations in the backs as they were mixed. He relaxed.