Sex with a Scottish brunette is better than reading Macbeth.
The motel room is fitted with a small shower, with coral-pink walls offering a multitude of small ceramic tiles, all three-by-three-inch squares in a straight grid pattern. That pink is remarkably similar to the colours of Elizabeth’s slit and folds that obliterated what I thought I knew about girls when she spread out her legs to invite me inside her. And her Scottish carpet; so neat! A Guinness from heaven.
“Oh, bless me, you had a lot! A lot of ammo to give your old girl, ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” she says, giggling in her usual way, as she crudely cleans her pussy with some toilet paper.
As she is stooping down, I bend forward and want to kiss her on the head, to show my affection, but she chooses this moment to raise herself…
“Ooww!” I yell, holding my mouth. The skull is a solid body part, and probably a fine part to hit a creep on the face and make him think twice before he tries something evil.
“Ooh, my poor lad! I’m so sorry! Does it hurt a lot? Let me see this…”
She’s suddenly using the tone of a mother with her young child. I don’t like it, but seeing her in the nude as she stands in front of me more than makes up for it.
“Mmh… This doesn’t look serious. There’s no trace of blood. Come on, baby, let me kiss it!”
She’s shifted gears and calls me baby using the tone of a lover, which I like much better. That’s more like it. I like it even better when she smooches my sore lips. There may be a tiny cut; as she says, it’s nothing serious.
I kiss her back and hug her in my arms. It feels so warm, human, and comforting to be like this together, standing in that tiny bathroom in some motel by a country road. We hear a truck passing by in muffled sounds.
Taking a shower with Elizabeth teaches me the meaning of the word erotic. I’ve seen pin-ups in a magazine that I keep well hidden in my bedroom. She has the body of a pin-up. Her breasts are firm; I love the way they stand out from her torso with nothing really sagging. Her boobs fit perfectly in my hands; their size is exactly like the girls I draw in my secret papers. I worship her nipples and neat areolas.
Not only this but sucking wet boobs under a running shower is completely different from dry-sucking them when she’s lying down on a bed. It’s fresh, refreshing, and very erotic.
“Oohh… His teenage mouth on me… He’s only sixteen! Only sixteen! Oh, Good Lord! This is fantastic!” she says as she gently caresses my hair under the shower jet while I endure the slight pain from kneeling at the bottom of the shower.
My hands are running lower, on her hips, then on her butt. I gently move her around; she turns around, understanding what I have in mind.
If sucking her breasts under the fresh shower was an unreal and unbelievable experience, I don’t know what words to use to describe what I experience when I start kissing her juicy bottom while running my hands around its contours.
Every inch of her shower-wet buns screams, “Girl!” with a capital gee, and gee-whiz, the shower is a bit too cold, but I don’t care. It makes me imagine that I’m in Copenhagen and I’m kissing and caressing the butt of that famous mermaid, whose fishtail just turned into a girly pair of legs—with a juicy bottom that displays a trim hourglass shape when you look at her entire figure.
“The legend doesn’t say what colour is her vulva hair.”
“What did you just say, handsome? Whose vulva? Mine?! You’ve already seen it!”
“Oh… I was just thinking aloud. I… I think your butt and your legs are just as gorgeous as the legendary mermaid in Copenhagen, and I…”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Do you really mean it? Me, a mermaid turned human? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You’re a funny lad! If you think I’m as beautiful as that mermaid, wait until you see Margaret Lockwood in the nude! We visit each other from time to time, and if you come with me to Glasgow, I will introduce…”
“Wait! What did you just say? Me? Coming to Glasgow?!”
“Oh, that’s just an idea, lad. Forget it. All I say is Margaret Lockwood is a couple of years older than me, yet she has the most beautiful pair of legs and the most erotic pair of breasts I’ve ever seen, and I would love to watch her smoke a cigar at your feet and receive your teenage icing cream on her breasts! Wouldn’t you like to take a shower with both of us? Wouldn’t you enjoy a threesome with you as the one boy?”
I look at her in awe. I’m too flabbergasted to answer her question. I’ve seen some movies with Margaret Lockwood and I remember her from the cover of some magazine from 1939 that belongs to my uncle Henri.
“You said something about smoking a cigar. What does it mean?”
“Oh, that’s an expression from the war. It simply means taking a man in my mouth and sucking him like a lollipop until he splatters all his hot cream inside my mouth or elsewhere.”
While Elizabeth speaks, I am magically attracted to her dainty feet. My hands take a sentimental journey down the shower-wet silk of her legs; I’m getting married to her alluring, sleek lines as I discover the intimacy of these calves I had the pleasure to look at the very first time we met in that park. They were clad in her stockings then; I’m presently gently stroking their uncovered mystery on my way down to her feet under the running shower.
I can’t get enough of her dainty feet! Why can’t I stop myself from looking at and touching them? It’s beyond me. I just can’t.
Everything about her is so neatly proportioned; nothing too small nor too large. She’s so gorgeous that it makes the sight and feel of her difficult to believe. Is she going to vanish like a fading dream? Doing this with Margaret Lockwood is an even more distant dream. I find myself curious to go with her to Scotland and find out. Something in Elizabeth’s voice tells me that I can trust her.
“Hey! Lad! Are you dating me or dating my bottom? Come on! Stand up and kiss me, then I’ll soap you all over. I want to know what a fine young man I got myself. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
I do as she says. She has the experience, and as we kiss under the running shower and she puts her arms around me, I know that she was right. Kissing and holding her feels even better than sucking her breasts and enjoying her butt. It’s like the difference between the finest meal on earth and being in paradise.
“Aren’t we like Adam and Eve in Eden, lover?”
“I don’t know. There are no showers in Eden!”
“They didn’t need one! By the way, I brought some fruits and nuts and dried dates in my luggage. Would you like an apple?”
“Do you have oranges?”
“Yes, maybe. Would you like it if we shared one? We’ll kiss and exchange its juices.”
“I… I could press a quarter over your… over one of your breasts and then suck it… Would you like this?”
“Oh, yes! But first, let your girl soap you all over. I want to feel and touch you all over. You are such a magnificent specimen of teenage good-luck charm! Seeing you like Adam in Eden makes me giggle. You have no idea! I feel complete near you!”
I let her have her pleasure. Feeling her little hands run all over me is quite an adventure in itself. I can feel how she’s enjoying this. She goes, “Mmh… ooohh…” and keeps gently rubbing soap all over me, from my face to my upper back and down to my buttocks, where she spends quite a bit of time. Her hands on me feel truly delightful. She communicates her lust for me as she kisses and caresses me.
Yes, I think that going to Glasgow with her will be quite an adventure, and it is when one is young that adventures are to be lived. But I’m too young! I need a passport to travel overseas, and to get a passport, I’ll need my old man to sign a paper since I’m under twenty-one years of age.
The water starts running cold, so I stop the shower. She keeps massaging me with soap. Then, she makes me turn around and starts kissing my manhood. She holds my balls with worshipping tenderness as she starts licking my cock.
“Ooh, the cock of a teenage boy! There’s nothing as soft as this! Oohh… This is so good! Mmhh… Nothing, nothing compares to this!”
She just keeps licking my dick, but it remains quite soft and flaccid.
“Don’t worry about this, handsome, please, don’t. You’ve shagged me at the hotel, then you shagged me again at the restaurant, and then you did me a third time here at the motel. You actually have quite an appetite! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
“But you need to let it rest now. If we wake up during the wee hours, then we’ll go at it and I know this will be fantastic. I can’t wait until tomorrow morning. Then, then… I’ll get to enjoy your morning glory! Then, I know you will shag me properly!”
As she says this, she keeps licking and kissing my cock while I feel the soap dry on me. Suddenly, I begin to think about her and her white gloves when I was watching her drive. I really want to fuck her inside that car, or on that car—bent over on the hood! It would be so erotic! I can hardly wait!
I quickly rinse myself with ice-cold water as she fetches our late-evening snack.
As I walk into the bedroom with cold water dripping down my naked body, she is sitting on the double-size bed and eating an orange while gently smiling at me with her gaze to die for. I love how the lamplight casts shadows that highlight the subtle puffiness of her nipples, atop breasts that are as delicate and perky as the rest of her.
She dazzles me with the show of her legs and feet as she reclines on her hip, resting on her elbow with her legs folded together, her feet nearly touching the pillow. The iron posts at the head of the bed look like silent witnesses to this breathtaking display of female splendour.
“Come here, my sweet lover boy!” she says, giving me her killer smile and the girl-in-candy-store gaze as she daintily motions me to come forward.
Then, she rests her hand on her naked hips as I come nearer, contemplating the neat triangle of her intimate black hair, with lines of lamplight and shadows that remind me of how incredibly beautiful her legs and feet truly are, to say nothing of her neat eyebrows and her equally black hair encasing her happy features as she watches me come near her.
I rest my hand on her lower legs and I move to her ankles and feet as we gently kiss.
As I eat, I watch her putting on her pajamas for the night.
After a short snack, we’re together in bed. I’ve put my boxers and my t-shirt back on and she’s wearing her pajamas. Since we are in a motel where things might happen, we prefer not to sleep in the nude like we would be able to do at Château Frontenac. It is better not to take risks, no matter how small the risks may be.
“I have a small revolver in my purse. It’s right on the bedside table now and it’s loaded. This is a basic safety precaution for any woman travelling by herself. I trust you not to touch it. You’re a grown-up man, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course. I’m just curious to see it. You’ll show me tomorrow. Right now, I’m very comfortable with my arms around you. I won’t be bothered to move anyway! You know, Elizabeth, this is my very first time, being in a bed and sleeping with a gal.”
“I’m happy when you call me a gal. Good night, darling!”
“Wow! First time a gal calls me darling…”
“I think, handsome, that this is certainly not the last time! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I can’t resist you! Let’s kiss good night! Tomorrow will be ours… Good night, darling!”
“Good night, my sweet Scottish treat!” I reply before smooching her and getting a nice whiff of her raven-haired scent. We’re in the dark. I can’t wait for the morning to come; I love seeing her in her pajamas.
Before long, we are both fast asleep under the cheap blankets of that cheap motel bed. We’re both rich in our hearts and happy as a king and queen.
I have the time to hear two passing cars, perhaps three, and listen to their Doppler effect before falling in a profound sleep.
******************************
I realize that the morning fills the room with grey light and someone is tenderly kissing my chest. As I look down, the first thing I see is the black, wavy mass of her hair. Next comes her wonderful scent. My Scottish beauty is worshipping my teenage torso. I love it.
I love caressing her hair as she kisses me lower, lower, and further down, passing my navel and giving me a novel thrill with her hands on either side of my belly. I know where she’s headed.
She removed my t-shirt while I was still half asleep. I’ve just realized this.
As she kneels and stoops down to lower my boxers and gain access to my morning glory, I contemplate the ungodly feminine shapes of her pajama-wearing body with her lovely feet wonderfully visible as she looks like she’s about to kiss a land she is worshipping.
Her hands around my teenage rod leave me speechless and her loving mouth leaves me breathless. She closes her eyes and liberally coats me with her spit as she bobs up and down.
After a short while, she stops and kisses my cock and looks at me, smiling, with a thin thread of saliva connecting my cock to the natural rose of her lips.
“How does my big boy like this? I want to taste your love juice!”
Having said that, she plunges again. I start caressing her hair as she resumes her mouth job. I can’t compare with anyone else, but this is a lot more intense than when I masturbate.
The warm and wet tightness of her mouth is quickly building a nice pressure as I watch her lovely face moving up and down with her mouth filled with my teenage hardness; she never stops looking at me and the intense build-up of pressure never abates; it just keeps intensifying. It’s now forcing me to breathe harder as I keep gently stroking her black hair that catches the morning light. A car cruises by in the distance, outside.
“Please, Eliza… Move your feet closer… I… I wanna touch them… Ohh, yeah! This is very good! Very good!”
Getting sucked by Elizabeth is quite a sensual journey, but when I touch her feet and start caressing their dainty softness, it magnifies the sensations from her tight mouth.
She makes a purring sound as she gets my precum and begins to go faster, adding some more hand pressure. The tensions are now really building up and taking me near the edge. I’m very curious to know what it’s like to explode inside a girl’s mouth. I sometimes think of my sister doing this to me whenever I masturbate, but I always try to think of some other girl whenever I catch myself having such evil thoughts.
Her mouth is a lot better than my hand. It’s not even close.
“Oh, my God! This is so good! Oh, Ma’am! Ma’am! I love your mouth!”
I feel guilty to be using my sister in a sexual fantasy. I find something else. Elizabeth is caught by priests and policemen in Quebec City. They publicly shame her, right there in that park where we first met.
Members of the public are all gathered and they watch the priests and policemen as they punish Elizabeth. She keeps looking at me and repeats, “Yes, yes! Punish me! All of you, punish me! I’m a bad girl and I deserve it!”
At the foot of the equestrian statue of Joan of Arc, the short priest and three policemen forcibly strip her naked. They grunt like beasts as they uncover her breasts, and they go wild when she is Eve-nude and kneeling by the statue’s granite pedestal. The crowd is cheering. Men start masturbating openly. Even the priest masturbates as he watches the police sergeant fucking Elizabeth on the grass.
They all take their turns inside her—the short priest, the policemen, other priests, then men from the crowd, while everybody else keeps cheering and applauding each man’s valiant efforts as he does what he has been wanting to do from the moment he first saw Elizabeth—each man punches his dick deep inside her and bangs her in the park until he ejaculates with a loud, inarticulate groan…
“Huuhnn ggghh!!! Ah, siboire de câlisse!” (… Ah, God and Heaven!)
I swear loudly as I powerfully erupt inside Elizabeth’s mouth.
I’m back again on that bed in that motel room between Quebec City and Three Rivers. Elizabeth is still sucking me; she’s… She’s swallowing!
The suckling noise and the sensations are really wonderful. Her girly tongue gets very busy as she licks it all off.
“Ah, crisse de tabarnak! Ah, ostie que c’est bon!” (Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! This is so good!)
She leaves my cock fully satisfied with a shiny spit polish. Perhaps Scottish girls are the best spit polishers around the world. Perhaps…
“Tell me, lad,” she says as she licks her lips with my semen, “what does it mean? Siboiwre de caalisse… Cwiss de tabernack… Ohsty… Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
We laugh together as I hear her trying to repeat my swear words. Only us, French Canadians use them.
“Well,” I start explaining as I keep caressing her lovely feet, “well, these are swear words that refer to objects from the church. They refer to the chalice, the Tabernacle, the Christ, and the ciborium. We use them as swear words. Here, with you, I uttered them because I was really enjoying what you were doing. Do you… Do you like the taste?! I mean, do you…”
“Not usually, but when my lover is a teenage boy, yes! I also love it when I receive it on my face.”
She nods as she says yes. She’s lovely to look at in her strawberry-pink pajamas as she sits on the bed with her legs folded sideways. I keep caressing her feet, my boxers still midway on my thighs.
I love a girl in pajamas.
“You’re so beautiful in your pajamas! I always wanted to undress a girl wearing pajamas…”
I’m thinking of my sister as I say this. Again! This is so evil, but Suzanne is the only girl I’ve ever seen in pajamas, until today, and the sight of a girl wearing pajamas drives me insane with lust.
In a wild rush of lust, I become alive and grab her. After a few seconds of playful wrestling, I have her in my arms and under me.
“Ooh, I’m detained! Again! Mr. Policeman, what are you going to do with me?”
“You’ll see, bad girl!”
As I say this, I start to unbutton the front of her pajamas. My hands nervously undo the buttons from top to bottom, with fumbling thirst for her breasts.
“Aaahhh!” I utter as I uncover the loveliest breasts I can think of. Oh God! I had already forgotten how wonderful they look, neither too small nor too big.
I cup their perky fullness and start kissing them with religious zeal. I love how the round tabs of her nipples leave an imprint of sensual touch on my face. I engulf one nipple and begin sucking it.
She runs her fingers through my crew-cut hair as I dwell in her lactate paradise. Sucking one breast while hugging the other one offers a wonderful sight. I am fascinated by the curves of her pale boobs, which look surprisingly vast when contemplated from so close.
“Today… Mhh… Oh, lover! It feels so good! Oh, yes, continue… Today, it’s Easter. I want to hear the mass. It’s very important… Oh, yes! But… Only… After… Oh, my sweet, sweet lover!”
After a long while of breast sucking and playing and hearing her hot moans, my teenage dick is hard again, in full flagpole status. I feel like being a gentleman and ask her which position she would prefer to make love in.
“Oh, you’re so sweet! Hmm, hmm… Tough question! Decisions… Decisions… Hmm… Yes! This time, we’ll do it with me on top of you. I will enjoy riding you; very, very much indeed!”
Having said this, I let her freely move and she laughs as she removes the trousers of her pajamas. The strawberry-pink cotton gives way to her rich and pale complexion. Once again, her alluring legs and her black carpet blast my sight and drive me mad with lust and anticipation.
“Oh, please, keep your top! I love strawberry pink next to your nipples!”
As she straddles me and takes hold of my erect dick to guide me inside her, I get the most wonderful view of her Scottish hair; her pubic hair is so neat! I love her perfect triangle of blackness. Brunettes are so wonderful!
“Oohh, crisse!” (Ohh, Christ!) I utter as she impales herself on me and I’m suddenly the prisoner of her vagina.
She begins dancing and pounding herself on top of me, and the pressure quickly starts a nice build-up. The play of her moving breasts is really delightful to watch and touch as I cup them between the strawberry-pink curtains of her open pajamas top, while she keeps pounding herself up and down and lets me feel the forceful massage of her Glasgow womanhood.
“Oohh… Oohh… Oohh, my young buck! Oohh, yes! Take me!” she blurts between her increasing moans as she looks deep into my eyes from her bobbing face, encased by the erotic darkness of her wavy hair.
Oh, Good Lord, the pressure! The pressure!
I watch the delightful show of her jiggling breasts as I caress the firm whiteness of her thighs while she ups the tempo and moans louder. My precum is out and I know I’m not going to last… To last… How to last?
I’m like a broken record that keeps playing the same merry-go-round with her jiggling breasts, her bobbing face, the blackness and neatness of her hair, the astonishing suppleness of her waist as I hold her… her Scottish carpet that keeps moving up and down in our taboo exchange, and ooh, her lovely feet brushing my legs behind her… She’s so sexy! Better than a pin-up.
“Ahhrr! Yeah! I’m inside herrrhh! Nnnggh! Oh, gee!”
The massive ejaculation leaves me utterly breathless.
She urgently pulls away and drives her hand onto her vulva and frantically fingers her pussy…
“Oh yeah! Ohh, ohh, oooh… Ooohh! Yes! Yes! They punish me! I’m a bad, bad girl! I deserve it! Ooh, yeah, they punish me, they punish me! They punish me, they punish me! They punish me, they… punish… m-me… Aaahh, aaahh, aaah, aaah, aaah my G’dhh… oohh!”
She bursts with laughter as she looks at me, lying on the bed, panting and sweating. We hug and kiss and roll together on the bed, laughing and kissing. She smells so pungent and sweet! It is so intense to make love with her…
I suddenly get curious. What would it feel like with a girl of my own age?
My lovely companion laughs and giggles like a teen girl as she wipes my love juice from her pussy using a piece of tissue…
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Did you hear yourself when you shot your ammo? Herrrh, nnnrrhh oooh ddjj… What on earth was that? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“I… I loved this… very much. I love shooting my ammo inside you. You’re such a sweet girl!”
“Ohh, yes! Call me your sweet girl, any time you like, even in public. Let the busybodies gossip. Today is our spring and I don’t want to share it with anyone else but you… This is our own April! Kiss me, lover boy!”
Then, she kisses me with something akin to religious fervour. I hold her very tenderly and keep calling her my sweet, delightful girl. I have genuine feelings for her. I wish this moment would last forever. “Oh, Eliza…”
Our lingering moment of togetherness makes me believe that this will always be the 5th of April, 1953. I hear the muffled sound of another car that passes by and leaves its Doppler effect, reminding me that time is ever ticking.
