002

If Stuart bought something at the market and one of the others remarked upon it, it was immediately gifted to them. If Frang had a favorite horse and Thorburn or Stuart expressed an interest, it was theirs. If Thorburn had a blade that he particularly cared for and Stuart said he would like one similar, the blade was given to him. There was nothing that any of them had they would not immediately give to his brother if they expressed an interest. Ailene had asked Stuart about it once after he'd given his best hunting dog to Thorburn and Stuart just said that they shared everything, always had, always would.

Ailene glanced around the glade where she'd gathered her herbs. The trees and bushes around it were thick and dense and it was unlikely that anyone would stumble through it by accident. As there was no one around, she loosened her stays and lifted her skirts, slipping one hand between her legs while the other gently stroked her breast. Just imagining her husband and the many ways that he appreciated her womanly charms was enough to cause the wetness to flow between her legs. The thought of his big hands fondling her breasts or his stiff cock plunging into her damp folds caused her breath to catch in her throat. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found a lover like him who made every time she was with him a joy and a pleasure.

Ailene remembered her marriage night distinctly, already wet in the remembrance. Her fingers lazily stroked herself as she recalled that magical night. She came to her marriage bed a virgin and somewhat afraid based upon the stories told her by others. The pain of surrendering maidenhood to a man had been reported by all of her married friends. It was with no little trepidation that Stuart led her upstairs to the hoots and hollers of the attending guests, some of them quite lewd and obscene. She remembered blushing as she heard their comments and Stuart's laughing good-naturedly at their ribald comments.

Stuart led her into their bedroom, a fire already lit in the fireplace, bringing the temperature to a nice, warm level, perhaps a bit too warm for clothes. Stuart removed his coat, tossing it over a chair by the fire and led her to the bed. He had her sit on the bed while he took off her shoes, then her stockings, his hand caressing her thighs in the process. Taking her hands, he raised her to a standing position, and with her facing the fire, the light flickering on her face, he slowly undressed her. First the overdress, the stays, the under dress, finally the chemise, exposing her pale breasts and the delta at her loins; making her to raise her arms to cover herself.

He held her hands in his and slowly pulled her hands out and away, saying, "Let me look at you, my beautiful wife."

He gathered her garments and laid them toward the end of the bed. Turning back to her, his heated gaze moved up and down her body, her hands rose again to cover her sex.

"Nae, lassie. You're wonderful. Take no shame in your appearance. You're as god made you, and no finer creation on all the earth has he made, I'd hold to it."

She blushed again and slowly lowered her hands to her sides, her fingers balling up in tight little fists, wanting more than anything to cover herself as this was the first time she'd ever been naked before a man. The firelight was bright enough to show all of her charms while still leaving intriguing shadows that Stuart was aching to explore.

Ailene had just turned 20. The top of her head came up to his shoulders. She was a slender 120 pounds and her breasts were perched high on her chest, pert and a wee bit more than a handful. A premise that he proceeded to check by placing his hands on them, checking their weight and heft in his palms. He felt her nipples stirring under his hands. He ran his hands down her sides, into her slim waist and over the swelling of her hips, wide enough to bear healthy children, but still slender. The thatch of hair at her cleft was slightly darker than the hair on her head, a lovely brunette with just a hint of red highlights from the sun. He knelt before her ran his hands down one leg and up the other, brushing her sex lightly as he did so. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, wondering if her virginity was to be taken right now. He stood and pulled her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. She had a light dusting of pale freckles on her slightly upturned nose, perfectly set in a nicely oval face, over a wide mouth with luscious lips he could imagine wrapping around his prick.

He leaned down and brushed her lips with his, saying, "Perhaps you could help me take off my things?"

It was posed as a question and not a demand. She removed the shoulder cloak of his filleadh mòr, then unlacing his shirt. After it was loosened, she grabbed the bottom and began tugging it up over his wide chest, exposing the curly little hairs on his chest, and over his head. She'd seen men's chests before; they often worked thus in the fields in the heat of the summer, and some men were hairy as bears while others had none, but Stuart had a nice dusting of soft hairs. Blushing, she wondered how they would feel pressed to her breasts. As she blushed, she lowered her head. Stuart didn't know what caused her to blush again, but he liked her modesty and how quickly it brought the color to her cheeks.

"There's still more to go," he said.

She blushed again and he raised his hand to brush her cheek. She looked down and pulled out the kilt pin. She unwrapped his kilt, many yards of fabric. The kilt dropped and he was naked beneath, save for knee socks and sturdy shoes. She turned him to the bed so he could sit. It took a couple tugs on each shoe for her to remove them, then she could pull the socks off.

While her face was down, working on his stockings and shoes, she stole a couple quick glances at his manhood. She was not totally naive; she lived in the country and had seen animals procreating. She knew what was down there, but not how it looked nor how big it was. Her mother had done her best to prepare her for the marriage night, including a limited description of a mans equipment. His was about four inches long and lying over his sack, but even as she snuck her quick glances, it seemed to be lengthening and thickening. After she'd removed his shoes and stockings, he stood up. She was kneeling before him, at the moment of truth. It was larger than she'd thought it would be, both longer and thicker. It was twitching somewhat, bobbing like a cork in a barrel and had veins running up and down it's length. The head was slightly hooded, with a head peeking from the hood.