Mac380
Naughty_Scribe
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2014
- Posts
- 3,583
Gordon watched as Krystie closed her eyes enjoying the sensation of his hands working their way along her leg. He was enjoying the sensation of her foot against his inner thigh which started to trace the outline of the bulge that was forming there.
The table between them prevented either from reaching any further without being obvious to the rest of the trains passengers what was going on.
So Gordon relaxed back in his seat and enjoyed the sensation of Krystie's foot and the feel of her legs in his hands.
Krystie had closed her eyes as Gordon's hands caressed the taught muscles of her calves, his hands firm but gentle stroking up to her knee and just barely teasing the flesh above it, where the skin became softer and more sensitive. She squirmed a little bit as she felt that familiar warmth start between her legs. She kept her eyes closed letting the warmth from the window infuse her from the outside as the glow grew inside her.
A sudden jolt rocked the carriage causing her eyes to fly open, an angry shout came from somewhere above her as she tried to work out where she was.
The warm sunlight no longer penetrated the carriage as a set of curtains now covered the windows, the table in front of her had disappeared and she now sat on a much firmer upright seat.
Her mind struggled to take in her surroundings as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, some light crept in around the curtains as they swung back and forth revealing wooden panels and only four seats. The carriage no longer ran smoothly along the steel rails but bounced and swung as if on a rough road, her mind began to register the sounds of the creaking wood and clattering of hooves outside.
'Where was she?' her eyes then gave her something else to consider: 'What the hell am I wearing?'
Her blouse and skirt had been removed and replaced with a bodice and long flowing skirt, it reminded her of some of the female characters at a medieval fayre that she had visited one summer.
She had wondered what it would be like to wear such an outfit, living and loving like they did then, now she was experiencing it first hand.
A hand reached out and slid back one of the curtains, the light that streamed in revealed another passenger sitting opposite her in what she now realised was a horse drawn coach.
She could not see the other passengers face as he looked out of the window, the wide brimmed hat which he wore at a rakish angle covered his features. He wore a dark leather waistcoat with silver buttons over a white shirt, a wide sword belt hung diagonally across his chest. The sword had been unclipped and now lay on the seat next to him, her eyes continued their journey downwards and she realised that he was wearing a kilt, it's dark reds mixed with lines of green and gold thread. A sporran of white fur lay in his lap, the tassels rolling side to side with the motion of the coach.
"Did no-one tell you that it's rude to stare lassie?"
Her head shot up as she began to blush, the brim of the hat rose to reveal a face that she recognised from a different coach and time.
"Welcome to Scotland" grinned Gordon.
The table between them prevented either from reaching any further without being obvious to the rest of the trains passengers what was going on.
So Gordon relaxed back in his seat and enjoyed the sensation of Krystie's foot and the feel of her legs in his hands.
Krystie had closed her eyes as Gordon's hands caressed the taught muscles of her calves, his hands firm but gentle stroking up to her knee and just barely teasing the flesh above it, where the skin became softer and more sensitive. She squirmed a little bit as she felt that familiar warmth start between her legs. She kept her eyes closed letting the warmth from the window infuse her from the outside as the glow grew inside her.
A sudden jolt rocked the carriage causing her eyes to fly open, an angry shout came from somewhere above her as she tried to work out where she was.
The warm sunlight no longer penetrated the carriage as a set of curtains now covered the windows, the table in front of her had disappeared and she now sat on a much firmer upright seat.
Her mind struggled to take in her surroundings as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, some light crept in around the curtains as they swung back and forth revealing wooden panels and only four seats. The carriage no longer ran smoothly along the steel rails but bounced and swung as if on a rough road, her mind began to register the sounds of the creaking wood and clattering of hooves outside.
'Where was she?' her eyes then gave her something else to consider: 'What the hell am I wearing?'
Her blouse and skirt had been removed and replaced with a bodice and long flowing skirt, it reminded her of some of the female characters at a medieval fayre that she had visited one summer.
She had wondered what it would be like to wear such an outfit, living and loving like they did then, now she was experiencing it first hand.
A hand reached out and slid back one of the curtains, the light that streamed in revealed another passenger sitting opposite her in what she now realised was a horse drawn coach.
She could not see the other passengers face as he looked out of the window, the wide brimmed hat which he wore at a rakish angle covered his features. He wore a dark leather waistcoat with silver buttons over a white shirt, a wide sword belt hung diagonally across his chest. The sword had been unclipped and now lay on the seat next to him, her eyes continued their journey downwards and she realised that he was wearing a kilt, it's dark reds mixed with lines of green and gold thread. A sporran of white fur lay in his lap, the tassels rolling side to side with the motion of the coach.
"Did no-one tell you that it's rude to stare lassie?"
Her head shot up as she began to blush, the brim of the hat rose to reveal a face that she recognised from a different coach and time.
"Welcome to Scotland" grinned Gordon.