David’s Scottish Cousins Ch. 02
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Morag eased her bottom over my nose and gently rubbed herself backwards and forwards against my tongue which I had extended. Her French-knickers were rather damp, sticky and ‘aromatic’. Morag seemed a bit more worldly-wise than either her sister or I and she was clearly intent on pleasuring herself on my face.
Her petticoats swished and froufroued over me as she rocked to and fro. Her outer net petticoat made a crackling sound as the multi-layered flounces brushed over her inner petticoat which in turn slid over my cheeks, nose and hair. Her rhythm gradually increased and got stronger. Her pleated skirt appeared to lift at times and I saw the glow from the fireplace but mostly I was in darkness under her plaid kilt and was overwhelmed by a very strong female odour. My tongue and nose were beginning to feel quite sore as Morag slid her buttocks faster and faster across my face over and over and over again . My mouth, tongue, cheeks and chin were covered in saliva and sticky stuff. Eventually after several final vigorous thrusts she lifted her legs off my face and disappeared upstairs to the bathroom to freshen up.
Meanwhile Megan helped me dry my face with her handkerchief and asked me whether I could do the same thing to her. I said that I would be willing to try. She asked me whether she should sit over my face like her sister. I said she should face me and put her stockinged feet on either side of my face then squat down so her bottom was over my face and I would do the rest. She stepped over me, while I lay on the carpet looking up. I couldn’t quite believe how bouffant her pleated tartan skirt was over her many petticoats.
Her skirt was wider than Morag’s and I could not see her upper torso from my position under her. Her skirts seemed to ‘fill the room’ and I looked up to see her thighs above her black stockings in the firelight framed by layer upon layer upon layer of stiff net petticoat with an inner lining of flared ivory shiny silky petticoat with a very deep lace trim. diyarbakır escort “Shall I squat down over your face now” she asked and I replied that she should.
Megan was rather shy and I lifted my face up off the cushion, closed my eyes and stuck my tongue out so that she would not feel too embarrassed. She lowered herself slowly while lifting up her pleated skirt so that she, and I, were able to direct where my tongue and nose should go. Her voluminous petticoats slid over my face, my upper body and rested on the carpet all around me creating a tent as eventually she positioned the loose lacy leg of her French-knickers over my tongue. Everything, went dark as layer upon layer of petticoat and plaid skirt blocked out the light from the fire and meagre lamp-light. The odour from between her legs was heavenly.
I started licking frantically, up and down and backwards and forwards, until Megan responded by groaning and gyrating as she approached her climax. She asked me several times if I was OK? and I replied that apart from the unusual stiffness and dampness in my trousers I was fine. Eventually Megan stepped off me and after another gorgeous view of her large bottom, frilly French-knickers and petticoats beneath her skirt she joined he sister to freshen up.
The next two days were taken with walks and visits to the local Falconry Centre at Plockhorn. I went walking one morning with my camera and arrived back at the cottage just after 2 o’clock. Megan said that they had a visitor and as I entered there was a very tall slim young woman at least eight inches taller than me standing in the living room.
She almost had to lower her head in order to stand upright next to the beamed ceiling. We were introduced and shook hands and was told that she was Pamela, the doctor’s daughter. She was amazingly attractive with very long blonde hair and full red lips. Morag said that she was a couple of years older than her which made her twenty. I remarked on diyarbakır escort bayan the fact that all the girls in the village seemed so tall and slim and thought it must be something to do with the diet. Pamela laughed and said that her bottom was far too big and she needed to lose some weight. We all sat down while Morag made some tea. Pamela took off her tweed coat to reveal a very long pleated tartan skirt which stopped short just above her ankles. She sat on Aunt Annie’s chair and I could not help noticing as she crossed her legs that some very lacy white petticoat came into view with a lace-trimmed back slit, and then disappeared under her long full kilt.
Morag had arranged a chair cushion on the floor in front of the fire. Pamela looked at it and then looked at me and then I realised that I had to perform my ‘oral-administrations’ to the doctor’s daughter in front of my two cousins.
Pamela took off her shoes and I noticed she was wearing very fine denier dark brown seamed stockings. She stood next to the fire warming herself. Megan winked at her than beckoned me to lie down on the cushion with my face facing upwards. Pamela then asked me whether I was ready and I said that I was, although nobody had mentioned until then that I was about to ‘pleasure’ one of Morag’s friends.
I lay with my head on the cushion and loosened my trousers slightly. Pamela then asked me what she should do. I could not believe that this beautiful vision of womanhood had not the first idea about being pleasured.
Morag said that she should hitch her skirt up and place her feet on either side of my face looking down on me. Pamela stood over me appearing like a tall goddess in the firelight. Her feet and ankles pushed firmly against my cheeks as she lowered herself onto me with her skirt up and knees splayed out. She pulled up her green and black ‘Burns Night’ long tartan pleated skirt which revealed a very long smooth white petticoat with a very deep lace escort diyarbakır edging which she pulled up above her knees. She squatted over my face and I could smell her ‘Eau-de-Cologne’ perfume which she had sprayed on her exposed thighs, stocking tops, suspender belt and white panties. Pamela’s panties had a distinct damp patch and clearly she was worked up before arriving at our cottage.
I pushed my tongue out as Pamela’s panties came to rest on my mouth. She pushed her silky nylon petticoat over my face and everything became dark as she pulled her skirt hem down so that it hid my face from view. I realised that she was embarrassed and really did not wish to see me at work beneath her skirt but was quite happy with my tonguings and nosings against her panties. I moved my tongue gentle probing the silky shiny material which covered her pubic area. I ran my lips over the lace edging and nibbled at her thighs next to her suspenders. I felt her quiver at each touch and she gasped gently. I was aware of Morag or Megan preparing tea and heard Pamela say she’d like one sugar.
After several minutes Pamela juddered and my face became covered in her juices. Her white panties were completely wet and I licked her beneath her thighs, She remained squatting over my face and she asked Megan to help her get up as it was difficult with her long skirt and underthings and me in the way.
“Close your eyes now wee Davy…there’ll be no peeping when I get up” said Pamela still embarrassed at what had happened. I lay there with my eyes closed although I did peep and saw Pamela’s magnificent derriere as she stood over me, straddling my face wiping away the moisture from between her legs with a handkerchief. Morag returned with the tea and a spair pair of French-knickers for our lady guest. Pamela lowered her soiled panties which she tossed onto the floor next to me, giving me a delightful view of soft hair. She then pulled up the clean knickers, stepped off me, adjusted a suspender clip which had come loose, pushed her petticoat down, swivelling the waist band so the slit was central at the back then let her skirt drop and smoothed it down,
“You can open your eyes again down there wee Davy” she said in a soft Highland accent. The tea and biscuits arrived and we all sat around and discussed the weather.
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