Passionate Encounter with a Handsome Stranger

Let me tell you a tale… from a misty Scottish glen.

Recently, I decided it might be fun to travel up to Edinburgh and stay with an old Uni friend. As always, we had a great time, and when the weekend was over, I decided to do something I’d always wanted to do. I was ticking off a To-Do list and had not long had some Mile High Passion. But this to-do was different – I’d long wanted to drive around the remoter parts of Scotland and photograph the stunning scenery.  The Highlands seemed like a great place to start. So, I hired a car and headed north, never once expecting I’d soon be having a passionate encounter with a dashing Scotsman. 

The weather was unseasonably mild, and I was seduced into believing that a summer dress would suffice as I explored the lochs and glens looking for the perfect shot. Suddenly, the skies greyed over, and then the mist appeared out of nowhere. The rain was lashing down, and I just needed to find somewhere to dry off. It was too far to go back to the car.  A roaring fire and a tipple of the good stuff were beckoning.  And out of the mist appeared The Thistle Inn. 

I walked in, and all eyes were soon upon me.  My white summer dress, now soaking wet, had become see-through. How did I not think it would rain in Scotland? It always rains in Scotland! I tried my best to avoid the stares – especially from the few women that were in there as they muttered “harlot” and “shameless hussy”.  I was regretting not wearing a bra as I knew my breasts were displayed perfectly through the thin material clinging to my body.  The landlord pointed to the raging fire… “over here, lassie – I’ll bring you something to warm you up.”

I had no idea that it would be a passionate encounter that would soon warm me up. 

I’ve always had a bit of a thing for those dashing kilt-clad Scotsmen. Perhaps it’s their dancing eyes and that sexy Scottish burr. Perhaps it’s a naughty desire to see what they have under their kilt. And then I saw him. Our eyes met, and he smiled that smile.  And his eyes danced. And I knew right then, and there I was, going to really enjoy my Highland fling.

In that instant, Rory had the ability to make me melt with just one look at his smouldering green eyes. His deep voice was so rough yet so smooth. Och… that burr. His stubbly beard and his Gaelic charm. Braveheart meets Gerard Butler… Sean Connery and William Wallace all rolled into one. He wasn’t wearing a kilt, but he may as well have been.

The mist was settling in, and if I didn’t leave now, I’d be here until the morning. So, Rory said he’d get me back safely to my car. As he pulled me up behind him onto his chestnut stallion, in that moment, we didn’t care where we were heading on that misty Scottish glen. My breasts pressed against his strong, muscular back. The thin cotton of his shirt and my dress left little to the imagination as my nipples hardened. Before we got to the car, he got his steed to halt. I knew I wanted him… needed him. And so began our passionate encounter…

He lifted me down. Standing there in the rain, with my now almost transparent dress. He couldn’t take his eyes off me. He tilted my chin so I was looking up at him, the rain pouring off us. And then he kissed me. I closed my eyes for a second, hoping that when I opened them again, it wouldn’t be a dream. 

This passionate encounter was as intense as it gets.   

Hunger and desire engulfed us as we kissed and caressed. I have never wanted anybody more. Then, without a word, this handsome stranger lifted me up onto the dry-stone wall, gently lifted my dress, and pulled my panties to the side. A connoisseur of his art. My legs began to shake, and my toes curled. This was no dream… I felt every flick of this handsome stranger’s tongue. 

I relinquished all control, and still he probed until I could take no more. 

Rory pulled off his clothes, and the rain running down his body only made me want him more. Tall, charming yet rugged.  I fell willingly to my knees and took him in my mouth. I knew he was close and soon, he pulled out, not wanting to spoil my pretty face – his words, not mine. We smiled, we laughed, and we were consumed with lust and unbridled ardour. Oh, what fun we had, and when he finally slid inside me, it took my breath away. 

My passionate encounter in the misty Scottish glen had me dancing with the fairies. When we finished, both utterly spent, he took the horse by the reins and walked me to the car. We shared one last sensual embrace, and then I blinked, and he was gone. Lost in the mist of the glen… or was he ever there at all?

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