Hogmanay Heat

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New Year's Eve in Scotland finishes with a bang.
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Hogmanay in Scotland seemed like a wonderful idea. I was still youngish at thirty-four and single after my recent disappointing break up with yet another Mr Wrong. I had given up on finding Mr Right. I was more interested in finding Mr Right Now. I was horny, and I missed sex. I had never been into one-night stands but was suddenly not opposed to the idea. I had always had a high libido and though my latest Mr Wrong couldn't match it, he certainly knew how to ring my bell when he was in the mood.

The hotel looked stunning; the downstairs was sumptuous and beautifully decorated for Christmas. Our hotel room was disappointing and a bit shabby compared to the downstairs. It was a trendy wedding venue. I presume they did not need to make the same effort with the rooms as they had a captured audience for most of the year. It was all top show, as my Mum would have said.

My girlfriends Jenna and Emma and I had fun in the spa. There were a lot of children around, and although I loved children, I never wanted any of my own. Luckily, the spa had set adult times. It was there that I first spotted Douglas. He was in the pool with some of his friends. In their late twenties, they were a little younger than us. They were laughing and joking, but I saw his eyes flickering over to me. I pretended that I didn't notice but arched my back to ensure that my girls were displayed to their best advantage as they strained in my bikini top. I made sure that I was in his eyeline as I exited the pool and bent slowly to pick up my towel. I gave him a little smile as I went past and noticed his mates nudging him.

The following day, at breakfast, I spotted him again. He wore a pink shirt highlighting his fair complexion, blue eyes and red-blond hair. Douglas was a cutie. We (accidentally) ended up at the juice station at the same time, and we chatted. It turned out that he was cute and funny. He asked me if I was going to the Hogmanay Ball that night. I told him that we girls were looking forward to it. He said his mates were, too.

"Perhaps you can save me a kiss at midnight," he smirked as he returned to his table. Cute butt, too, I pondered.

"You look a bit flushed," said Jenna as I sat back at our table, "Has Mr McHotness got your motor running?"

"He's called Douglas, and I do suddenly feel a little hot. You know how I can't resist a Scottish accent. It seems to be hard-wired to my pussy. It is something about how they roll their 'rrs'. It does something to me."

"Well," said Emma, "Perhaps it wasn't the best plan to spend New Year's Eve in Perth, then?"

"Oh," I said, smiling over at Douglas as I felt my nipples harden, "I think that it was a perfect plan."

I knew that I was looking my best that night. My long purple dress was very flattering and low cut in the back. My matching satin heels and amethyst jewellery matched perfectly. I had piled my hair up in a twist. It was so lovely to get properly dressed up for a formal occasion. No one seemed to get dressed up anymore, and I am a girly girl who likes to make an effort and look like a lady.

I wasn't shocked that we were seated at the same round table with Douglas and his friends; Douglas had seated himself next to my name card in readiness. His friends Gregory and Michael introduced themselves and suggested we sit boy-girl around the table as it would be 'easier to talk.' They really meant so that they could chat up Emma and Jenna whilst I was busy flirting with Douglas.

When they got up to move, I realised they were in traditional Scottish formal attire, all resplendent in kilts. It was something about a man in a kilt that turned me on. I think it was the thought of them naked underneath. Their bare cocks swinging as they walked.

The meal was excellent, but there were far too many courses for me. Douglas helped me finish some of my courses. It is a very intimate thing to share food with someone. I fed him some of my pudding with a spoon by the dessert course. Some of the cream dripped onto his chin, and I found myself kissing it off before suddenly his tongue snaked into my mouth. He tasted of whisky and cream. As his tongue explored mine, I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter. As he pulled away, I said, "It isn't midnight yet. I thought you wanted a midnight kiss,"

"I couldn't wait," he smiled, "I am so hard for you right now, " he whispered into my ear.

The coffee arrived then, and the lights were dimmed in readiness for the dancing. As I talked to Jenna, I started to slide my hand along Douglas's bare leg, higher and higher, until I reached the top of his hairy thighs. I reached my prize, but before I touched it, I very lightly stroked his balls. He was right; he was hard for me, very hard indeed. I felt him catch his breath as I wrapped my hands around him for the first time. His cock was long and hard. I moved my fingers along his warm length slowly at first and then faster and faster. It was then that I felt his own fingers had found my own arousal. He moved my thong away before coating his fingers in my wetness. He rubbed and stroked me as I did him. Suddenly, I was glad that the band had started to play as I let out a little moan. The rest of the party jumped up to dance. We let them leave, and we could get on with the task in hand, so to speak, in the relative darkness of the ballroom.

"Oh, Douglas," I moaned in his ear.

"You are a wee dirty girl, aren't you," he moaned. His fingers were now plunging into my wet depths. I came for him then, in the darkness of that busy ballroom as others danced and laughed, I came shuddering in his fingers. I turned my attention to him and gave him a vigorous hand job that had him burying his head in my shoulder as copious amounts of his Scottish cream coated my hand. I used the napkin to clean up and laughed as he tried to compose himself. Eventually, he turned to me and growled in that sexy accent of his,

"I don't want to dance at the moment; I need to be inside you -- now."

It appeared that I had really got Douglas feeling horny. We rushed back to my room, kissing all the time in the lift, his hands kneading my breasts and mine, exploring his warm, smooth buttocks underneath his kilt. My room was a mess covered with the remnants of the girls getting ready, but Douglas didn't seem to notice. He bent me over the bed, flipped my skirt over my back, lifted his kilt and plunged himself into me. He filled me up so quickly, but I was so wet and ready for him it felt wonderful.

"The best thing about kilts," he roared as he pounded into me, "Easy access."

I braced my arms on the bed as he moved within me, faster and faster until he was almost a blur.

"Douglas, you are amazing," I squealed, "Don't stop, please don't stop; I'm going to." I never got to finish my sentence as I came long and hard for him, my moisture running down my inner thighs as he continued to plunge my depths with his long Scottish cock.

Finally, with a low roar, he came too, and I collapsed on the bed with him above me, kissing the back of my neck. Neither of us spoke until we rolled onto our backs. My beautiful dress bunched up around my thighs.

We cuddled for a while and, with the combination of booze and exertion, nodded off. We woke up with a start when we heard the crash of fireworks and the cheers from the ballroom below as the clock struck midnight. Douglas leaned over and gently kissed me.

"Happy New Year," he smiled as he bent down to take my nipple in his mouth.

"Happy New Year indeed," I sighed contentedly as my hands roamed again under his kilt.

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