Scotch Swords, Muskets and Love

She hadn't been with a man since Seamas, and as a sensual, passionate person, she had greatly missed and longed for the intensity of physical contact. She ran her fingers through Robert's hair as they kissed, pulling his head in closer to hers. Their tongues and lips danced a dance of swirling, heightening emotion and arousal, like a winter fire spreading with voracious hunger through dry highland brush. She kissed him with an increasingly passionate fervor, biting and sucking at his lips and tongue as the emotions and intensity billowed within her.

She liked to be in control in these situations; she had a side to her that she hardly ever showed to anyone, but it was a side that she reveled in when she did bring it out into the open; a side that liked to take charge, to direct things, to be in control.

She wondered, as their kissing grew increasingly violent, almost, how Robert would respond to this.

There was only one way to find out.

She pulled her head away from him, breaking off the kiss abruptly. Then with both hands she gripped the front of his poet shirt, where the buttons were – and ripped, as hard as she could. Buttons flew everywhere and the shirt opened wide, revealing a thickly-muscled torso with not an ounce of fat on it.

Robert gasped with surprise, but he smiled devilishly too; he was enjoying this. Susan lunged forward and bit his powerful, broad left pectoral muscle – right over his heart. She pressed her teeth into his flesh – not too deeply, but enough to hurt and make him smart with pain. He shot a hand into her hair and grabbed a handful of it, using it to pull her head back, away from his chest – and like her, he used force; enough to cause a little pain, but not excessively so.

She reached down to his kilt, and grabbed the waist of it with both hands, even as he continued to pull her head back. Without even being able to see what she was doing, she yanked down as hard as she could, pulling his kilt down to his knees.

She reached straight for her target, and wrapped her hands around its length and girth. Robert kept her head pulled back, so she couldn't even see the beast she was dealing with, but she could certainly feel it. And it was starting to throb in her hands, growing longer, thicker and harder with every pulse of red-hot blood that gushed into it.

“Wait,” gasped Robert, breathing heavily with pleasure.

Susan, however, ignored him. She took one hand off the growing animal and used it to lever his arm off of her hair. Now, with her head freed, she locked a sensual, lustful gaze into his eyes, and in those orbs she saw her own immense desire mirrored.

She lowered herself down onto her knees, so that Robert's member was right in front of her face, but all the while she maintained eye contact with him; never once did she break the gaze.

She could smell his scent down here, with this beast – which was now as hard as any granite pillar – right in front of her, right under her nose, right in front of her lips. It was a strong scent; immensely manly and masculine, and this got her pulse racing like never before.

With one hand on the immense pillar of flesh, she opened her mouth and took as much of it as she could inside of her, which prompted a loud, protracted moan of pleasure from Robert, as her tongue caressed his cock inside her mouth. He was larger than Seamas, quite a lot larger in fact, and she wondered how he would feel entering another part of her body. A part that was, at this moment, getting very hot, very wet, and very ready to take him inside.

Still, that could wait – not for long, but for a little while. She had to savor in this enjoyment of being in charge, of directing things to go exactly as she wanted them to go.

With her right hand, she started rubbing back and forth, mimicking this motion with her lips, and with her left hand she started to caress the huge, bulbous pouch of flesh that hung below his cock.

He leaned back against the table, holding onto its edge with a white-knuckled grip, causing the wood to shudder and bump as spasms of pleasure rippled through his body.

“Oh God Susan,” he gasped through gritted teeth, “Oh God, oh God!”

She started working his member harder and faster, causing him to lean back even more and grip the table with such force that it seemed as if he would crack and splinter the wood itself.

She hoped that he wasn't getting too close to cumming, because she was only getting started. Judging by the way his body was shuddering, though, she figured that he may be; it was time to switch things up.