Caravan, Largo Bay

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Older man senses young woman's need.
3.4k words
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Scotsman69
Scotsman69
271 Followers

Author's note: This was written for a friend.

1.

James sat in the corner of the bar, watching a group of younger folk playing pool as he sipped his Deuchars. Early to mid-20s, he thought, focussed on the girl. She wasn't playing, just sipping a vodka-based drink, occasionally participating in banter with the guys at the table. She was a sexy young thing, he thought: he wouldn't mind at all. But it wasn't going to happen. He picked up his novel, the new Kelman, settled into it with a fresh pint. But his eyes kept returning to the girl.

He'd hit a barren spot in his writing and a kind friend, seeing him languish, had given him the use of her wee caravan on the Fife coast for a couple of weeks. The van was pretty basic and he wouldn't have fancied it in winter, there was a scent of damp from the stains at the seams. But it had electricity for his laptop, cooker and gas heater, a plumbed toilet and shower. It was fine for June. He was content, and his keyboard had begun rattling again after the first day. So content that this was the first time he'd gone to the pub for his evening meal and a couple of pints. Saturday night out at the Crusoe Hotel in the wee village of Lower Largo was not jumping, but he hadn't expected it to be. He focussed on the Kelman till the young woman came up to the bar beside him. He smiled hi and she said: You're a stranger here: on holiday?

Aye, staying in a caravan along the bay, just east of the village. I take it you're local? He was watching her face, the wee shower of freckles on her cheeks, pierced nose. He couldn't help but notice her full breasts, her sleeveless t-shirt wasn't designed to hide them. Traces of blonde hair at her oxters, so she wasn't dyed. Well, mostly not: her hair was finished with purple ends round her neck. She was delicious, slightly plump in a most sexy way.

Yeah, she said: Just out with some pals for the evening. It's a quiet place. Usually go to Edinburgh at the weekends to stay with my boyfriend, but he's away this weekend, so this is the best I have. She worked in a law office in Kirkcaldy, she said, was beginning a law degree part-time as a mature student. Meantime she was a legal secretary.

She took a tray of drinks to the pool table for her pals, returned to the bar with her Smirnoff Ice: So why a caravan in Largo for your holiday? If you don't mind me asking, you don't look that poor, usually we get Dundee neds at the caravans?

He explained why he was there, and that the van wasn't on the rather rowdy site he'd noticed up the brae. Also realised she wasn't exactly sober. And was looking at him in a way he thought he recognised. He was very surprised, but she was younger than his daughters and he didn't know the codes for her culture, so he ignored the twinge in his cock and resigned himself to expecting nothing.

They blethered a bit and he couldn't help evaluate her. She seemed a nice lass, bright, good company. And she breathed sex, he thought. She touched his arm a couple of times as they spoke and he moved his leg so it brushed her slightly. She didn't move. He asked her about the weekends in Edinburgh, and her boyfriend. He'd graduated last summer, was doing his teacher training at Moray House. It was the cricket season and he was off to Aberdeen for a match for the weekend. He was in the college First Eleven. She hadn't been interested in going with him, neither cricket nor his friends did anything for her.

She asked him about his writing and he noticed her glance at his empty ring-finger, looked in her eyes then: I'm not long divorced, he smiled, that's why the finger's still a bit shiny. Explained he wasn't a published writer, yet. He paused: Unless you count online? She looked at him quizzically: Of course, tell me when I get back, I need the girls' room.

Her bottle was empty and he ordered up a round, carried the tray to the pool players. Chatted briefly about their game, returned to the girl, now back at the bar. We haven't been introduced, he said, corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile. I'm James. He extended his hand to her.

Karen. Glad to meet you tonight. She smiled winsomely and he looked her straight in the eye: Glad to have met you too, Karen.

Now, she said: You were going to tell me about your online publications?

Aye. He was slightly embarrassed; this wasn't something he usually talked about to anyone, far less a sexy lassie thirty years his junior. He sipped his beer. Well, mostly my writing is fairly mainstream, short stories, and I've started a novel. But my online stuff is a bit less mainstream...

Her eyes widened and she caught her breath slightly, her incisors bit her bottom lip. It was a provocative sight, and her eyes were sparkling now. He looked away: I, er, I contribute to an erotica site.

He dared look at her again and her eyes were shining: Well, she said, you're a dirty old man then? What site? I look at erotica sometimes, Literotica.

That's where I write Karen. Maybe you've seen my stuff? He told her his site name. Uh, rings a bell, she said. She leaned closer so her fine tits hung under her shirt, spoke low: Don't know why I'm telling you this James, but I really get off on BDSM and NonConsent/Reluctance.

His cock twinged. Fuck, she was sexy. And maybe just...?

He leaned in to kiss her generous lips, just a brush: Well you must be a very naughty little girl then Karen. Look, he said, sorry I'm a dinosaur, I still smoke, and right now I'm gasping. D'you mind coming outside with me for a moment? She slipped off the barstool and her legs rubbed his: I wouldn't mind a cigarette myself James.

The hotel was right on the ancient stone quayside and they walked out onto the pier. The tide was full, water slapping the stone walls. Tinkles from the rigging of a couple of wee yachts sounded in the balmy air of the late June evening. South across the Firth of Forth, lights of towns sparkled in the distance, fifteen miles away. There was still light on the western horizon, though it was after ten pm.

James rolled them both cigarettes, drew Karen into the shelter of his jacket to light hers. She looked up at him, a shadowed face, but her eyes sparkled in the flash of the lighter. Well then, she said, I'm a naughty little girl, and you're a dirty old man. Her lips were slightly parted and he leaned to kiss her. She responded and they both dropped their cigarettes as their arms slid round each other: Christ Karen, you are so sexy, he murmured into the purple hair behind her ear, licking her there. I want to fuck you right here lassie. And he dragged her back to the dark of the sea-wall behind the hotel. Pushed her against the rough wall, fingers sliding up her stockinged thighs as he kissed her hard, then licked round the bottom of her ear, tongue tickling into it. She parted her legs a little, just enough so his fingers could caress the gusset of her panties under her short skirt, feel her dampness there.

She was pushing him away now: James, not here, please, my pals might come out looking for me, but his cock was afire and one arm held her throat against the wall as the other pulled her panties down to her knees. Karen, I need you now woman, and he knelt to pull her panties over her shoes. Licked into her cunt, tongue furrowing through sparse blonde hair till it found her wetness. His hands were on her tits now, pressing her back against the rough wall as she continued to squirm in resistance, and he lapped her sweet young sex. Fuck Karen, you are so delicious. He rose, unzipping his jeans. Take my cock out you dirty little girl. Her fingers moved hesitantly on his pants, stroked his cock a little. Pull them down, my sweet wee slut, he grunted, kissing her mouth again hard, fingering her clit. You're a dirty wee lassie and you're going to get a filthy fuck from your dirty old man. She slowly slid his pants down and his cock was hard against her soft belly. She fingered his cock hesitantly. She was panting now and he roughly turned her so her hands were on the wall. Bend over slut, and he pushed her legs wide with his knee.

Oh fuck, no, please, not here, she whispered. But he was fingering her wet cunt again, opening her for his dripping member. He thrust in hard as his fingers moved to roughly pull and fondle at her pendulous tits and she felt him sink straight into her warm wetness: Oh fuck James, do me, give me a good seeing-to. He was pounding her furiously, possessed by feral lust, just had to empty his spunk into this willing wee slut and she was moaning now, thrusting her arse back as he plunged hard into her. Her hand was on her cunt, frigging her clit, and she spasmed as she felt a wet finger probe roughly into her anus. He was growling low behind her as he thrust into her: Fuck you are the hottest slut Karen, I love your sweet young cunt darling, and as he felt his balls tighten he moved from hard thrusts to fuckfrenzy, slamming her against the wall till the electricity shook him and his spunk sprayed her cervix. He slumped trembling over her back, fondling her tits gently now, kissing under the purple feathers, up her spine, round under her hairline. His fingers slipped to stroke her soft plump belly, felt her piercing. He hadn't heard or felt her orgasm. Selfish bastard, he thought. His cock slipped from her and he turned her round gently: Forgive me lass, I just couldn't stop myself. He kissed her and her soft lips returned it.

She was smiling: Well, I suppose I rather let myself in for it when I told you what gets me off on Lit. She fingered his slimy cock now and he twinged. But, you bastard, you didn't quite get me off then. You're owe me one.

Why don't you come back to the caravan with me and I'll show you what I'm writing Karen. She nodded.

2.

They returned to the bar to collect their things and said goodnight to the pool-players. He could barely keep his hands off this sweet sexgirl as they wandered east along the narrow village street. She paused when they got to the statue of Alexander Selkirk, the inspiration for Robinson Crusoe, who had been born in the village: The only thing that makes Largo famous, she smiled.

Not now Karen, not for me. He pushed her against the statue. I will always remember Largo for this sweet young sexslut who walked into my life tonight. They kissed hungrily and she squirmed her cunt on his thigh as his fingers stroked her face. Come on little girl, he growled, licking her ear. I have stuff to show you. And you need another dirty fuck: I want to get you off properly this time. He fingered her cunt under her brief skirt. You've made me hard again, now let's move. And he pulled her beyond the end of the village, along the country lane which led behind the dunes to the caravan. Meadowsweet scented the evening, then the twist of honeysuckle round the caravan door. He pushed her in, drew the curtains, switched on the laptop. Lit the wee gas heater: he didn't intend she remained clothed for long.

Her nose wrinkled: Fuck, it's a bit basic, isn't it? she said. I mean, hardly the lap of luxury. It's good enough for our purposes, my wee slut, he growled. He was trembling with dirty excitement as he pulled her to him, began dragging her clothes off roughly. When he had her naked he knelt to suckle her gorgeous tits. Fuck Karen, do you light my fire, he breathed. These are the most delicious tits. But now darling, I want you to sit at the table so you can read my new dirty story. He brought it up on the laptop and she leaned forward to read from the screen. Now, he ordered: I want you to finger yourself whilst you read. And I'm going to film you so I remember you properly.

She rose and turned to him: You dirty bastard, you are NOT fucking filming me whilst I frig myself, but he pushed her back down onto the stool. Yes I am, and you will. You are going to do exactly what I tell you. Now read, and touch yourself for me. He stood behind her so his cock pressed at her back, bent to squeeze her tits. Touch yourself for me girl, he breathed, and as she leaned to read the screen, her fingers went between her splayed thighs. He lifted the camera with one hand and began filming her from above, focussed on her fingers slipping round her sex. Gradually she became more aroused, fingers moving faster, panting a wee bit now. You dirty bastard, she whispered as she read the screen, you write filthy porn James. And as you can see, I'm getting off on it.

He put the camera down and bent to whisper in her ear: I want to feel and see you orgasm darling. I love watching a woman bring herself off. Her tits were jiggling now as her fingers flew on her clit and he rubbed his erection against her back. OhfuckJames, she moaned, pull my nipples.

His fingers fastened on them and he began pulling her hard nips, twisting them as her breath came fast and ragged. Oh fuck James, you are a filthy old bastard, and she focussed on the screen till she read the graphic denouement of the story. He pulled her head back roughly so she was looking at him bending above her, face upside-down, pulled his head down to kiss her as her eyes glazed and her fingers throbbed at her sex. She moaned into a cry as her body spasmed hard on the chair and she let the convulsions flow over her.

Her fingers stilled at her groin as she subsided, her lips still locked with his in an upside-down embrace. You dirty old bastard, she whispered.

Sweet slut, he returned. That felt like a decent orgasm? Now you've had your turn I'm going to play with you hard, understand? Tonight you are my sextoy.

Her body shuddered involuntarily as he pulled her up from the stool, twisted her round in the confined space of the van, tried to kiss her, his hunger obvious.

She pushed him away: When I told you I get off on BDSM and NonConsent/Reluctance, I meant on Literotica. Pure fantasy. I didn't tell you I wanted to be your plaything, and I'm not going to be. We're even, we've both had our orgasms. Now I want to go.

She shivered again and he clasped her to him, relishing the plump sexiness of her body as his hands stroked her softly. He didn't think she wanted to leave, but it wasn't in him to force himself on her if she really didn't want him. But if his mind was in confusion his body wasn't. His cock was hard against her soft bulging belly and he knew his hands were not unwelcome as they explored her.

He wanted her pure and simple. Moved so one hand could squeeze her big tits. The other slid between her thighs, probed into her wetness. He was kissing her neck wetly, panting now. He turned her round and pushed her face-down onto the crumpled duvet on the bunk. Held her down with one hand as the other spread her arsecheeks. He sucked a finger and probed her anus with it, felt her instinctively tighten, then gradually relax. His finger slid in a little and she squirmed.

You're going to take my cock up your arse Karen, aren't you? His voice was firm, commanding, and something in her melted. She felt her cunt moisten again as his finger continued to probe her insistently. Yes I am James, she sighed. You are going to fuck my arse with your dirty cock and your filthy mind.

He thought for a second. He didn't have lube, hadn't expected to need it. He left her momentarily to move to the cooking area, returned with the wee bottle of olive oil he'd brought. She had squirmed properly onto the bed now, her face down, and raised her hips so her delicious arse was in the air, knees parted. His cock jerked, totally hard again.

Karen, move your hands and spread your arsecheeks wide for me. Do it for your dirty old man. She hesitated. NOW! My naughty wee girl, and he slapped her bum, hard enough so his hand-print showed. Her hands rose slowly from her sides and she pulled her plump juicy arse apart. He grunted, leaned forward, dripped extra-virgin olive oil into her bumcrack, rubbed it round and into her anus.

Fuck Karen, you have the sexiest arse I have ever seen, and he dripped oil onto his cock now, then poured some onto her back. He put the oil down, slid his fingers down under her bum so they slithered into her wet cunt. You are my wettest dream come true Karen, and he moved to massage her back. She tensed hard as his cockhead nudged her arsehole and he pushed hard, pulling her arse up higher to get the angle right. She was making uncomfortable sounds now but his cock needed its release and he forced harder, felt her tight ring accept him.

Now my naughty wee lassie -- he thrust his hips and forced himself further into her -- James needs to fuck you. She moaned but he pulled out and thrust again and his oily fingers slid round her flanks so he could squeeze her full tits. Touch your cunt for me whilst I drill your sweet arse, slut. He twisted both nipples as she moved to get her hand between her legs. He felt her sigh as her fingers touched her clit and he withdrew a bit, rammed in harder. Fuck Karen, your arse is so tight and deep. He withdrew and thrust again, knew he couldn't last in the delights of her young arse. I'm going to have to cum soon and spray your bowels with my spunk, he said, and he felt her shiver as her fingers played with her clit. You are the dirtiest fuck I have ever had, and he was thrusting faster into her now. I knew -- he was panting roughly -- knew as soon as I walked into that bar that I wanted to fuck you. She was moaning raw now and her hips squirmed faster under him. But I didn't dare hope that I'd get your tight arse darling, he grunted. He began to thrust savagely, hard and deep, just seeking dirty release in this willing young slut. As she began to wail he felt his balls tighten, rammed harder into her. Rested as he felt the electricity tingle the length of him, withdrew and thrust hard again. Exploded into her, felt in that second her anal ring loosen round him as her orgasm hit her.

He slumped on her oily back, licked and kissed her neck into her hairline, smelling her. Karen, you are the most delicious naughty wee girl I have ever fucked.

His cock eventually slid from her and he crouched to lick her arse, absorb the forbidden scents there. Turned her gently onto her back so his mouth could worship her cunt, then slid up beside her on the bed, pulled the duvet over them. Their lips locked as their arms wound round each other.

Slowly, lust sated, they drifted off to sleep.

Scotsman69
Scotsman69
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AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
Crusoe Hotel

The hotel was owned by an uncle many years ago. I was never so lucky.

As always , a good tale

Scotsman69Scotsman69almost 9 years agoAuthor
Thank you Literotica...

I have just re-read this old tale of mine, VERY critically, not having re-visited it for some time. It was one of the earliest, but not the first story I sent to Literotica, seven years ago now, with the encouragement of a fellow, and successful, published Scots author whose career began on Lit. (She kens who she is, and mony thanks again lassie, gin ye chaunce tae see this. I hope yer aye daein weel.) The rest of you don't need to understand this wee note to her; it's personal, one Scot to another. Just in public, sort of...

On re-reading this tale today, I cringed at some of the writing; so obviously that of an aspiring (though not young) creative writer struggling with an early attempt at erotica for online publication. Seeking to develop his own somewhat unorthodox style of 'embedded dialogue', and sometimes using a native language not well understood outside Scotland. It also has desperately poor character development, and unrealistic sex scenes in consequence, in several places. I do hope I've improved a wee bit since then. If I ever seek to publish erotic stories commercially, it would be far easier to bin this, than to try to edit it into something I could be proud of. The basic storyline, such as it is, is OK and reasonably credible... but it requires a near-total rewrite to get it up to the literary standard I now expect of myself. Aye, I did say 'LITERARY'. Very deliberately. This is still LITerotica. I cling to the first three letters of the word, albeit a bit desperately at times...

But, being a thrawn auld bastard, I'm keeping my story up. There is no single 'English' or 'US' English word of which I'm aware, for 'thrawn', as with many Scots terms; the nearest I can get to current Scots usage is 'perversely and desperately obstinate'. And aye, that's why I use my native tongue sometimes, especially to render dialogue. Even for an international audience. Because it's MY tongue, it's what I SPEAK daily to other Scots. It's what most Scots folk speak, with regional variations. I'm fuckin PROUD of it. And it can be most expressive, in ways, however fine they CAN be, that 'English' and 'US' English aren't.

Ye all sing 'Auld Land Syne' at New Year, dain't ye? ('Should old acquaintance be forgot', in case you don't know the Scots title.) Rabbie Burns wrocht it.. Pure Scots, fae the echteenth caintury. Weel ower twa hunnert years syne. ('Well over two hundred years ago.')

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auld_Lang_Syne

So I'm keeping this story up, if only to remind myself how poor I was as a writer when I made my first trepidatious steps into online publishing. (Whatever US spellcheck Lit uses is redlining TREPIDATIOUS, but I've checked my Oxford AND googled it, as I always do if I ever have the slightest cause for doubt about my spelling, and that is the correct 'British' English, so it stays. And interestingly, the Literotica spellcheck also redlines 'Literotica' and 'googled'!)

Late night musings of an auld Scot, reflecting on the progress of his own writing, eh? (For my Canadian friends, 'eh' at the end of a sentence has been stereotypically Scots for at least as long as it has been Canadian. If not longer. You may even have got it fae us. Eh?)

Many thanks to Literotica for its uncritically 'open doors' policy, for those writers who abide by its rules. I know the rules are frustrating for some. The age of consent here is 16, not Lit's 18, and it's 16 in most European countries, and I understand from Wiki in the majority of US states. It's younger in many reputably 'civilised' nations like Spain (where it's 13), for example... But Lit's rules are theirs to make, nae doot for good legal reason, and I have aye abided by them. If ye want to play the game, ye maun play tae the rules.

Lit's 'open doors' attitude has allowed many aspiring writers exposure to their first wider public audience. However frustrating that may sometimes be, especially for any proudly non-US 'English' writer exposed to an audience whose largest single country of origin lives by (to us) sometimes strange US linguistic, social and political customs; Lit has been, and continues to be, a wonderful blessing. Even though its policies, which I understand and endorse, mean that one usually has to sift through a fair amount of dross to find the gems, or those roughish stones which with burnishing and time, may with a wee bit of encouragement become gems. And please remember, Lit readers. Just ONE positive comment to a potentially good writer may inspire her/him to write more, and better.

So. A heartfelt thank you, Literotica, from this sometimes too-critical auld Scot. Lang may yer lum reek. Literally, 'Long may smoke emerge from your chimney'; meaning essentially, 'Long may you live and prosper'. But isnae the Scots raither mair evocative?)

Guid nicht tae ye a.

Scotsman69

AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
Dirty old fuck

Wonderful filthy fuck story!

LaphroaigLaphroaigabout 12 years ago
Lucky bugger!

Great story!

Did you get her 'phone number?

namelessflamenamelessflameabout 13 years ago
Grrrrrrr

I love the set up of this story. That the man writes for literotica made me smile. I wouldn't mind meeting a feisty, older Scottish man that way. Grrr, this definitely got me going. The lack of quotation marks detracted from the dialogue, though. I couldn't tell when to read in a matter-of-factly manner or in a gruff, forceful manner. Maybe you should just do an audio version. Mmm, I'd like that!

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