CHAPTER 1
November, 2005
The north eastern coast of Scotland,
"Why in the world did I really come here?" I grumbled to myself as I pushed up
the long arms of my mint green cardigan and uncorked my second bottle of red wine. I
should have known better. I must be off my friggen head, I thought, while my eyes scanned
the kitchen with the wallpaper that at one time would have been white, but was now grey.
It peeled in places where mildew was seeping through. My small upturned nose crinkled at
the faint trace of dampness hanging in the chilly air as I furiously rubbed at my naked,
goose-pebbled legs. Picking up a clean glass I strolled into the cheerless living room.
The room was cool and shadowed, rather than freezing, due to the electric fire which was
bravely trying to heat it. The eerie shimmering headlights of passing cars from the street
below filtered through the tiny holes in the curtains, playing off the water in the
fishbowl atop the glass coffee table. Perhaps, I`d find peace here. I sank down onto the
brown couch, with its stuffing sticking out at unfortunate angles. Just enjoy the room
Mary, I told myself, but I couldn`t. The tick tock of the clock above the mantelpiece
seemed to hound me. The globular eyes of the orange goldfish I`d bought only that morning
for company, and named Gordon seemed to mock. Sighing, I strolled to the only window in my
sparse living room for perhaps the hundredth time in half an hour. Was I restless,
confused? Yes. Only the day before, I had moved myself, along with my meagre possessions
consisting of four carton boxes, two suitcases and a microwave oven into this small, damp
Dundee flat.
I called it coming back to my Scottish roots, to my heritage, but in truth I was running
away at twenty-three. Having qualified as an Interior Designer a year ago, I hoped my job
chances would be better in Dundee. I`d found nothing in the overcrowded London market
apart from Crystal, my dead-end ex of approximately three months.
Crystal had been old enough to be my mother. She was a natural redhead, a real high-flyer
who liked to play with young girls or boys whenever her businessman husband wasn`t around.
What can I say about Crystal except her body, for a forty-five-year-old had been great,
firm, and lithe with big silicon breasts which I loved to play with, and yeah, the sex was
great, too. The downside was she had a temper about as unpredictable as a tornado, and an
IQ of zero.
Did I love her?
No. I`ve never been in love. Sometimes I wonder what the word actually means. Is it
created by angels, this magic little gift that only the good girls get? Then, in that case
I suppose I must be bad.
Hey, I`m worse than bad--with the huge number of disastrous relationships I sadly have
behind me, I must be as bad as they make `em.
Do I miss Crystal and her uptown world?
A little!
Do I miss the sex?
Absolutely.
I took another large gulp of wine. It helped dull the pain which seemed to be eating a
hole in my weary heart that first Saturday evening in my new home. Home, my golden brows
drew together into a furious frown. That was false. You couldn`t really call a two-roomed
apartment, which hardly had space enough to let you stretch out your arms, a home now
could you?
With that depressive thought, I pulled back the ghastly, purple, moth-eaten curtains.
Along with air freshener I`d made it my first priority to get myself some new curtains
ASAP on Monday when the shops opened. I`d known as soon as I`d walked into the flat,
exhausted from my gruelling train ride up from London, that the rejects from the
seventies, with the black polka dots simply had to go.
Outside, the sky was as grey as glass, grey as the depressing mood surrounding me. I
watched as a bright, red double-decker dislodged its passengers at the bus stop below.
When the people who got off had scurried away in all directions like little ants, I turned
my attention to the road workers who`d been working across from the busy bus stop all day.
To my untrained eye, they seemed to be fixing some sort of electric power line. Although
it was six o`clock in the evening, it was still bright on this overcast day in November.
The workmen below had become my entertainment, since I didn`t have a TV. Dressed in bright
orange jackets, jeans and sturdy boots, they were something to occupy my thoughts other
than, Crystal and her fantastic body, which I missed late at night alone in my bed, the
dismal state of my bank account, and the dire economy. Unfortunately, there wasn`t one
hunk among the little group numbering ten.
I sighed heavily, after coming out of my two-year relationship with Crystal, since, fool
that I was, I`d been faithful only to her, while she`d practically screwed everything that
moved. I was in the mood for a man for a change. Preferably a big man, with a rock-solid
cock who wasn`t afraid to use it. I smiled. I really was as bisexual as a girl could get,
then I sighed again, as I decided that my chances of actually finding such a super stud
were near to nonexistent.
Wait! I almost fell through the single-pane glass of the narrow, rectangular window, as I
pushed myself against it to try and get a better look at the new man below. Casually
carrying his bright yellow workers` jacket in his left hand, and his safety helmet in the
other, he walked into the workmen`s midst.
I couldn`t help it, watching him I was drooling like a puppy chewing on a shoe.
He was gorgeous, a bloody estrogen magnet, that`s what he was. Forget super stud, this
guy was a little piece of heaven on earth, a friggen Greek Adonis.
It hit me then, smack right between the eyes that I hadn`t been with a man in over two
years, for twenty-four months now I hadn`t felt how good it was to have an aroused cock
split my pussy lips apart. And Christ, somehow I just innately knew that the stranger
below would be the best ride of my life.
My thighs clamped alarmingly and my pussy pulsed. My glass shook and a trickle of red
wine spilled on the beige carpet. It splashed over my bare feet, and settled into the
fabric as dark, and rich as blood. Hell! I would have to get someone in to clean it, but I
would worry about that later.
My eyes badly wanted to return to the perfect male specimen below and so I let them.
He was extremely tall with jet black wavy hair which just brushed his shoulders. Lots, of
X-rated thoughts ran through my head just looking at him. He had the confident, deadly
swagger of a man who knew he had no equal.
It was the gait of a predator.
And it made my blood boil.
I decided that sex on legs could devour me any day, any way he pleased.
Hungrily I watched him, absorbed in the way his white T-shirt so nicely outlined his wide
shoulders and strong back, marvelling that he was courageous enough to brave the winter
weather outside in such a little, tight fitting piece of material. And, oh my, then there
were those faded jeans, lovingly cupping his long, well-defined legs, not to mention the
best looking piece of ass I`d ever had the good fortune to lay my eyes on.
Suddenly, I wanted to kiss that butt so very badly. I wanted to nibble and bite my way
along its delectable smooth moonshine crack, and ride its hunky owner into the ground.
I hissed lustily, then shrugged it off. I had given up on men, and women for that matter.
A shame, really, because the handsome stranger definitely had a body designed to tempt
anyone with a healthy sex drive--sort of wicked sinner and angelic saint all packed into
one very fuckable unit.
And my, did I want to fuck him, did I ever.
I ran my tongue across my suddenly dry lips, my skin was clammy and my cotton panties
drenched. The closest I`d come to anything remotely resembling a man lately was my trusty
vibrator, which sounded as loud as a Jumbo Jet taking off from Heathrow.
My pussy was hot and wet, throbbing in some serious need of a little release. I ran
impatient fingers through my long, strawberry-blonde hair, sometimes, well most of the
time; the little horny organ between my legs had to be obeyed.
And so it was I obeyed it now.
Draining my wine glass in one very large unladylike gulp, I placed it on the white
emulsioned windowsill. I closed my eyes, pushed my fingers beneath my practical panties
and gave way to the kinky fantasy building in my head. It was one I frequently had.
Although the time and location changed often, the muscular, blue-eyed man with his brown
haired, blue-eyed female companion never did.
In the fantasy I was running from what and whom I don`t know. My hair was spiralling out
behind my body in a pale, ghostly mass. The wind on my naked flesh was so cold. It felt
like a horde of cruel needles piercing my skin. Suddenly I innately knew there was danger.
What and who this danger was, I had no idea. I was simply scared and desperate to get
away, and in my desperation I stumbled over a protruding rock. But then it didn`t matter,
out of the blue, a strong, long-fingered, firm hand grasped my own, pulling me to my feet.
Then we were running and running, me breathless and him, the tall, dark stranger, not
breathless at all. Pulling me along to keep up with his impressive pace. His furry boots
and powerful strides, flattening the soggy plant life sporadically peeping through the ice
sheet covering the ground.
Then I lost my footing and stumbled again.
Suddenly strong arms encircled me and I was warm and secure against a hard chest. His
strong heartbeat beating rhythmically beneath my cheek while his strides on the compacted
ground jolted through every inch of my body beneath the moonlit darkness.
Before us like a vision, a tall woman sprang from behind a huge boulder, with her matted
brown hair flowing out in a thick mass behind her. She was dressed in an animal pelt that
ended at her thighs, and which showed off her fantastic, muscled legs to perfection. She
looked at me, muttered something in an ancient language I couldn`t understand. With the
spear she held, which was longer than her body, like a dangerous, proud Amazon warrior she
pointed to something in the distance I couldn`t see, then she turned and headed for it.
My rescuer followed, both of these strange people moving swiftly over the uneven earth.
There was still the threat of danger in the air, but nevertheless I felt safe in this big
stranger`s arms. I turned my head further into his chest, so I could breathe in the animal
scents of his furs. My nipples were pebbled, my clit swollen. I was unexpectedly aroused,
then it came to me suddenly. In my fantasy, I had gone back in time. I was a modern woman
saved from some kind of fearsome prehistoric beast by a cave-age man and his woman.
I shivered in anticipation, wondering what this man, and yes this archaic, wild woman
would do to me when the time was safe. Would they kiss me? Would the man make me his
second wife or would they ravish my twentieth century body?
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