Chapter 79

Not long after Frang and Isobel left the wedding feast, Teárlag implored Thorburn leave as well.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," Teárlag said. "I'd like to spend my last few hours here engaged in mad bouts of sexual congress. I can eat anytime."

"What about my guests," Thorburn said. "I'm the host. I should stay here, at least until people start to leave."

"Stuart and Ailene can represent the Camerons. They're married and can fuck anytime. Our time is limited. Ask them to stay, please, Thorburn." She ran her hand up his leg until she reached his cock, stroking him until she felt him start to grow.

"You keep that up, I'll throw you on the table and take you here."

"I don't care. Do it! Just as long as you take me. If you were to touch me now, you'd feel how wet I am. I can't wait to feel you inside me, Lord Cameron, to feel you pumping your marvelous prick in my cunt. I told you, you could fuck me on the streets of Dervaig. You can fuck me on this table as well. I'll strip naked and throw myself across your platter of meat. I'll suck your cock in front of the Lord Mayor. Whatever you wish me to do."

"Would you really?"

Teárlag knelt down and began to lift the edge of Thorburn's kilt. Thorburn pushed her hands away. Ailene turned and saw Teárlag on the floor in her dress and thought her ill.

"Are you sick, Lady Mackintosh?" She said. "Would you like someone to escort you to your room? I can bring something to soothe your stomach."

"I dropped a fork, but I am feeling a little weary. Not nearly enough sleep last night. Do you think you and Stuart could manage the rest of the party without Thorburn. He can escort me to my room and tuck me in."

Ailene glanced at Thorburn and noticed the hint of an erection below his kilt. She suddenly realized why Teárlag might have been on her knees and it had nothing to do with forks. She smiled at her bravado and wondered if Teárlag would really have sucked Thorburn's cock in front of all the wedding guests. Thorburn was trying to look angry, but she couldn't help but notice quick flickers of a smile behind his beard as well.

"No. I can see you're very tired and in need of sleep right now," Ailene said. "Stuart and I can take care of our guests while Thorburn takes care of you."

Teárlag rose gracefully and gave a small curtsy. "Thank you, Lady Cameron. I see we understand each other perfectly. I appreciate your small kindness. I do so look forward to finding the comfort of my bed. You see, Thorburn. I knew Ailene would understand. Women know these things. Please escort me to my room." She held out her arm.

"Ailene, Stuart," Thorburn nodded. "Thanks for looking after our guests."

"Teárlag is a special guest of mine, Thorburn," Ailene said. "Please ensure she's well taken care of this evening."

"I shall indeed. Good night." He took Teárlag's arm and led her out, wishing a few of his more honored guests a good evening on his way.

As soon as he was out of sight from any but a few servants, he picked Teárlag up and threw her over his shoulder, a quick gasp of surprise and a tiny squeal from Teárlag the only sounds accompanying the footfall of his boots as he climbed the stairs. He passed a maid going down the hall and seeing Thorburn's glare and his burden, she hugged the wall, nodding to him as he went by, a quick smile quickly hidden by her hand.

Thorburn entered his room and slammed the door behind him. He plucked Teárlag off his shoulder and set her down.

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me, Lord Cameron. If you could please help me with the buttons on this dress."

"Dress," his big, battle-hardened hands took hold of the fabric and ripped it apart; buttons, lace, sleeves, flying everywhere. "What dress?"

She stood there, suddenly completely naked, standing before a big man who seemed quite angry. He bent down and picked up a big piece of fabric.

"I see only a gag." He stuffed it in her mouth, wadding it as he went, until her mouth full. He pulled her after him as he went to the bed, sat down and pulled her over his knees. He put his right leg over hers, trapping them between his own. Catching her two wrists in one massive hand, he stretched her arms over her head. He stared down at her small, bare bottom, the fringe of downy red hair around her sex. He laid his right hand on the soft flesh and then it was gone and Teárlag knew what happened next. His hand came down with a resounding 'crack', her buttocks bouncing deliciously as she thrashed about, her bottom suddenly burning like fire. She thrashed around, trying to get loose, but he ignored her efforts completely, remaining locked within his grasp.

"That was dragging me out of a party I was hosting."

"This one," and another blow came down on the other cheek, "is for being impudent."

"This," his hand came down again, "is for attempting to suck my cock at my brother's wedding feast."

"For your impatience." Her flesh bounced again.

"Your seizing my cock under the table." Another crack.

"Giving me an erection while I'm at dinner." Boom.

Her struggles amounted to nothing compared to his strength and she gave up trying to get away, resigned to her fate. Her ass blazed, each additional smack adding to the inferno.

"For your insatiability." Smack. "Your impertinence." Whack. "Your taunting, teasing, tantalizing, tasteless behavior" Smack, smack, smack, smack.

As much as Teárlag's bottom burned right now, an element of pleasure was insinuating itself in her body, little reverberations echoing the vibrations of her bottom congregating in the pit of her stomach, swelling the tips of her nipples, thrumming in her cunt, now leaking her fluid down her legs. The cries and protestations smothered in the gag in her mouth turned to moans, equally stifled. A dozen more blows fell on her ass and she was rubbing her thighs together, thrusting her bottom up to meet his hand, her pussy flowering as her passion did.

The blows stopped raining down and he ran that selfsame hand over her tormented flesh, kneading and soothing before plunging a thick finger in her cunt and she screamed, a muffled sound captured in her gag, her pussy pulsating on his finger as she climaxed. He continued to pump his finger into her, her cum coating it as it sawed back and forth in her sheath, keeping her spasms going, not letting her down. Her screams turned to whimpers as he continued finger fucking her into a foaming froth. Releasing her, he pushed her to the floor.

Pulling the gag from her mouth, he ordered "Now, finish what you started," pulling up his kilt, revealing a cock as angry looking as he was; hard and red, pre-cum oozing from the tip. She licked her lips.

"Yes, Lord," Teárlag said, staring up at him.

Her lips parted and her mouth engulfed him, sucking him to the back of her throat; her tongue swirling and twirling, twisting and dancing over the taut flesh. Thorburn groaned, heavy with need. Her left hand held his shaft as her head bobbed up and down the stalk. Her right hand cupped his sack and gently fondled the egg shaped organs within. She felt them begin to draw up, his hands came down on her head and he thrust hard into her mouth, his cock throbbing in her hand, the head swelling and her mouth was awash in his seed. Pulsating jets of his cum threatening to drown her as his prick was so deep in her throat she could scarce swallow, yet she continued to suck and tug upon his shaft, seeking more of the salty stuff.

Even as his cock began to shrink, she stroked and licked his organ, much as he had finger fucked her, refusing to let his passion ebb until he was forced to push her away, his cock still half hard.

"Fuck me, Lord Cameron!" She said, still on her knees on the floor. "Fuck me, hard."

He picked her up and threw her on the bed, dragging her ass to the edge and plunging his cock deep in her cunt. She sighed at the sensation of being filled to bursting by his mighty staff, pushed to the hilt inside her liquid folds.

The heat of his passion expended in her mouth, Thorburn was able to slam repeatedly into Teárlag's body; his cock coated white from the creamy fluids released by her pleasure. Over and over, a machine, sliding deep in her cunt, ramming against her womb. His hands mauled her breasts, kneading, squeezing, twisting. She climaxed once, twice, a third time; one right after the other, her muscles tired from the near continual contractions. Each orgasm bringing a fresh flood of her cum, a renewed clasping of his cock by her hungry cunt. Thorburn panted with exertion, as if he'd been on the training grounds for hours, but his hips continued to pump, his cock to churn, plunging far into her welcoming embrace. Finally, he sensed another release near and increased the speed and force of his thrusts. Their flesh slapped together, almost as loud as her tanning had been.