Jen could tell she was building up to another orgasm, and could tell by how hard both of the men were they were as well. She hoped that she'd be able to hold off until the last moment so that her orgasm was the best it could be, but knew that at this point she was pretty out of control of her own body. She was just glad she was taking their dicks so well. She'd wondered when Ron had walked in if she'd be able to. It was one thing to be super horny and unable to contain oneself, but it was another thing to actually take both dicks at the same time.
“Oh fuck,” Ron said as he grasped her hips and pulled her down to grind her clit against him. “Fuck I'm going to fucking come so hard inside of you. You're pussy feels so fucking good I can't believe it. Oh fuck!”
Jen could feel Ron's cock twitch and pulse inside of her. He was shooting rope after rope of his seed deep into her pussy and it couldn't have felt any better. At the same time she felt Ben grip her hips from behind and start to empty himself deep into her ass. She was loving every second of it, gyrating her hips to maximize how good it felt. When it was all over they lay in a big pile of intertwined arms and legs. Jen drifted off to sleep with both of the men still inside of her.
This time the dream wasn't one that was easily discerned as such. She wasn't on the cruise ship anymore, but instead was back in the Midwest where she'd grown up. She couldn't remember how she'd come to be in the middle of a prairie watching watching massive thunderheads move in, but here she was. In the distance the approaching storm front dropped bolt after bolt onto the plain, making a few groves of trees burst into flames. Before she had time to seek cover the clouds were over her and around her, it seemed like the whole world had gone dark and turned to thunder and lightening. But then the rain came, and it was gentle and soothing. It was almost as if the little droplets weren't rain at all, but something else entirely, as they hit her face and evaporated into something that smelled like rose petals and earth.
Then suddenly there was a break in the darkness and the sun shown through. It was something that Jen was so glad to see the feeling almost overwhelmed her. Then she knew she was dreaming, not because of how surreal everything was, but because she saw the outline of the larger lesson that her mind was trying to convey to her. And it wasn't one that said she shouldn't have slept with those men, not at all. Instead it was a message that told her the future would just fine, and not to worry so much about her ex husband or the kids. Sure, she needed to keep track of her children, obviously, and do right by them. But she didn't need to fret like they were going to a third world, war torn country to try to make it as street urchins.
As she made her way to the top of a hill behind her, wading through the prairie grass. When Jen got to the top of the hill she looked out across the plain and wondered what the rest of her life had in store for her. She always got caught up in thinking about all the time that had already gone by, when really she needed to be thinking about what she would do with all the time she had left. Why focus on things that were already done, and most certainly couldn't be undone. Her ex husband couldn't get her to take him back because there just simply wasn't a way to un-ring the bell.
Jen could feel the ground shifting underneath of her. She figured that the men must be waking up around her and moving around the bed. She wondered what they thought of her, and then realized that they probably didn't think anything at all. Not all people were judgmental like she was used to. Some people just wanted to live and experience things.
Jen could feel herself waking.
When she woke both of the men were gone. There was some kind of note left on the bathroom mirror. Jen didn't look at it though. It seemed so trivial to leave some note that would try to minimize what just happened, like there was anything to minimize. Or maybe Ben would let it be a beautiful thing and not mar it with his words, as nice as his words could be. Jen just didn't feel in the mood to be let down by someone's ill conceived notion of her and what had just happened. So she did just what she wanted to do, she got up and got dressed and headed out to see what else was going on that day for the cruise.
She ended up heading below deck and running into her parents who were just finishing up gambling so they could make it to the next island tour. They asked Jen if she wanted to come but she said no. Instead she sat at one of the slot machines without doing anything and just thought about her life some more, even though she knew it was the last thing that she needed to be doing. What she really needed to do was just ignore it, as counter intuitive as that seemed.
“Well hello,” Ben said sitting down at the slot opposite of the one she was staring at, so he could play his and speak to her at the same time. “How are you?”
“Not so great, I guess,” Jen said. “Nothing to do with you our your brother though. Just more to do with how things are going right now on the home front.”
“You said something about that,” Ben said. “You're old man lost his mind and left you?”
“I don't know what happened,” Jen said. “I keep wanting to throw him under the bus and be like, 'Fuck whatever reason he thinks is legit,' but at the same time I work a lot. Much more than was probably fair to him.”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “But what the fuck is he doing running off like that?”
Jen shook her head without answering.
“And he took the kids,” she said.
Ben grimaced.
“So what do you plan on doing when you get back?” he asked, pulling the slot machine's handle after dropping some money in.
“I guess I'm just going to go back and start over, you know? I'm going to go back and work and not give a flying fuck about the asshole who didn't think I was worth keeping around for whatever reason. I'm going to start dating again and be single for a long while. I'll take the kids back if he can't hack being a dad, which I really doubt at this point, but I'm not taking him back. There just isn't anyway. And I know he'll throw this cruise in my face because I obviously took it to escape what was going on. But fuck him. You know? And do you know what he had the nerve to call me for before I got on the fucking ship? Get this. Help. He wanted me to help him somehow.”
Ben's brow furrow at what Jen said, and from the noises his slot was making, at his loss. He pulled the handle again.
“Help?” Ben said. “Isn't it a little late to ask you for your help after he's already taken off with the kids to places unknown? Sounds like he came down from whatever weird antidepressant they had him on and realized that he needs you more than he wanted to admit to himself.”
Jen rolled her eyes.
“Maybe so,” she said. “But that doesn't mean that I need him, especially after the stunt he just pulled. I could give a fuck less about people like him. People that just want you there when you are a convenience and never any other time. I guess that's most people though, isn't it? I mean, how many people do you meet that are super genuine and nice and actually give a fuck about people that aren't them? Like, none of them. But how many people do you meet that absolutely are completely and totally self absorbed.”
Jen and Ben talked for a number of hours from behind their respective slots, about everything ranging from life to sex to death and drugs. Afterward Ben asked Jen if she wanted to go up to the top deck and see how it looked in the night. When they got there she couldn't believe how good the stars looked and how the ocean sounded lapping against the hull of the ship. Just when she thought they were about to head back down Ben grabbed her and bent her over the same railing she had leaned over earlier in the night. Without speaking he rubbed her slit until it was nice and wet and then started fucking her.
Jen tried to be quiet but just couldn't manage it. So he moaned and groaned until quite the audience had built up below them. People were waiving and cheering, urging them on. It turned on Jen so much that she could feel an orgasm building up, but she was almost to embarrassed to let herself come. What if one of the people was videotaping? Or what if she made a weird noise? She didn't get much more time than that to think about it as an orgasm
rocked her body again. She could feel her knuckles go white around the railing as she tried to hold on while her body bucked and convulsed with the discharge of built up stimuli. It was the best feeling in the world. And just as she stopped coming she could feel Ben start to come as he grunted, filling her pussy up with another load of his hot jizz. She loved how his cock pulsed his spunk deep into her pussy, and how he smacked her ass when he was done, before he pulled out.
“Oh God, how many people do you think were watching?” Jen asked as they both crept away from the railing.
“No idea,” Ben said. “It's hard to tell. And it's not like I have much experience telling.”
They parted ways and Jen headed down to her parents room. They weren't back yet, which she realized wouldn't happen until tomorrow if it was night now. They were probably in some complimentary hotel on the island, resting up from all of the tours and shops they'd gone through today, and waiting to wake up and see even more tomorrow. That was one thing about her parents, even when they weren't that interested in whatever it was they were doing they always managed to have fun no matter what.
As Jen lay in bed she wondered what they would think of her after tonight, if they knew all the stuff that had happened. It was easy just to assume they would never find out, because most likely they wouldn't, but in the off chance that they did she figured that they'd just have to take it well.
Jen could feel her drifting off to sleep again, but she didn't think she would have any dreams this time. She felt too tired to dream anymore. When she fell asleep it was nothing but the inky blackness of unconsciousness that greeted her, and nothing else. There were no lessons to learn, or things to see. Not even another giant whale to cast its gaze on her.
When her parents finally made it back to the room the next day she was glad to see them. They sat and talked and talked about everything. Jen was glad she had family she could count on, and even more so now that she'd decided that her ex was out of her life forever. As the sun set on the cruise ship and she and her parents talked she realized she was so lucky to have this opportunity to start over again. She realized that there was much more to her life yet to be experienced, and she was glad for that. She was glad for a lot of things.
THE END
Highlander Desires
It was generally agreed among the people of Bodhuvan village that Fingall MacAllarran was their favorite eccentric.
Mártainn the Blacksmith - no longer the blacksmith for many years now due to a bad back, yet widely regarded as the village blacksmith thanks to his smithing sons - was fond of telling anyone who asked of Fingall that he was a “fierce, strange man.” To get Mártainn to tell tales would require that the asker loosen his tongue by plying him with whiskey. This would often result in good stories if the whiskey were meted out carefully and less coherent stories interspersed with songs and anecdotes if one weren’t careful about portioning.
“Strange in his ways, that one. For all the years I knew the man, he never got a girl with child so as we know. There was many a lass wouldn’t mind a night of sport with that lad, I’d have wagered.” He told the crowd of younger men and women who gathered around him one wild, rain-drenched spring night. All of them had heard of Fingall, but few believed the stories were entirely true.
Still, Mártainn had a way of telling tales that inspired the men through vivid scenes of battle and captured the imagination of the ladies with descriptions of Jocelin’s beauty, so all would sit and listen without interruption while the storm raged outside.
Mártainn settled back with a drink in one hand, his pipe in the other. A big man, he buried the drink between his bearded lips, set the drink down, and stroked his great white beard.
“You know him to be strange,” he reminded them, “but let me tell you how my friend became so strange in his ways. I can only tell you the parts of this tale he told me or that which I saw myself.”
###
Mártainn and the brothers Fingall and Dhugall were spending their free time on the day before their lives changed in much the same way as men in the Clan MacAllarran would do; they were fishing in the Loch.
“It tell you there’s no chance Ross will move against them.” Dhugall was saying in his usual argumentative way. He and Fingall loved their verbal sparring almost as much as they loved sharpening their skills with an axe. Both men were among the most respected fighters in the clan. While Mártainn could swing a two-handed axe with the best of them, in those days he was more focused on mastering his craft as a smith than he was in taking part in raids. Still, the three were friends and he enjoyed whiling away the hours with the brothers.
That is, except when they were arguing.
“You don’t know what the Clans will do, and you never did.” Fingall replied, his voice rising with irritation. “MacKay has gone too far and you can trust there will be hell to pay for it.”
His brother laughed. The pair shared many physical qualities; tall, muscular, strawberry-blonde hair. The younger of the pair would never be mistaken entirely for his brother, though, thanks to an ugly scar across his right cheek and a signature laugh that resembled a donkey’s bray. “You think all of the lords of the Isles and Highlands are going to unite against him? It’s almost as though you wanted to fight.”
Though the sun was high and bright, the mood of the elder brother darkened considerably. “You know I don’t want that.”
Dhugall stared at Fingall. “I know you don’t, and were it any other than you I’d…”
“You’d what?”
“Well, you know what some say. No one will say it to your face, but you always sound full of fear, speaking coward’s words. Though,” he quickly noted, “you have proven your worth in battle many a time.”
Fingall shrugged. His brother was the only man he would suffer to say such things without injury. “None would dare speak it to me, so it is of no concern to me. My heart is not the same as my skill and courage.”
Mártainn sought to heal the rift between the two and their contention of the possibility of an approaching war, mostly to get them to be quiet. After all, the fish weren’t biting. He slapped Fingall on the back. “Take a wife at last! You won’t be young much longer and if you do, I promise your temperament will be much improved. You see how your brother and I are more relaxed, do you not?”
“I’ll not marry until I find the right woman.” Fingall replied firmly.
“Aye, a scolding wife can be a burden, MacAllarran, but a young, pretty, one provides certain... benefits.” He winked at Dhugall and the two shared a laugh.
Fingall rolled his eyes in response, but chuckled despite himself. “At the rate you take advantage of these benefits, you’ll breed a village to rival Bodhuvan in five years.” He got up, brushed himself off, and slung his fishing pole over his shoulder. “You lads while away your hours at leisure here. There’s work to be done.”
His brother leapt up to join him, leaving Mártainn alone to fish. The aspiring blacksmith with his short black beard sighed and watched them leave as he kept to fishing alone.
Soon, Dhugall and Fingall were walking apace towards the village walls. Protected by high wooden barricades, the hilltop collection of huts afforded a nice view of the North Sea. Once, Norse and Danes had come to raid these hills and taken over the region. The North Men had long since faded into the genetic makeup of these people, Irish Gael and Scandinavian alike eventually displacing the former Picts and becoming known as the Scots. It would be many years before Bodhuvan or much of this region would consider itself Scotland, but they definitely shared more in common than the people of the Lowlands or, worse, the English.
“You’ll see you’re wrong, brother.” Dhugall assured Fingall as they approached Fingall’s outlying home. The young man had inherited the family’s cattle, while Dhugall had a more modest holding not far away. “No one looks forward to putting on the helmet and aketon more than I, but I’m telling you, they don’t dare take up arms. MacKay’s army is too great.”
&n
bsp; “Aye, we’ll see about that.” Fingall said, sounding worried. “I expect we’ll know soon enough if it’s time for more bloodshed. Pointless though it’s sure to be.”
“I’ll leave you alone with your cattle and fishing, brother. Some of us have better things to occupy our time” Dhugall said, and just to goad him called over his shoulder. “My Murron has a cousin coming to stay with us, you know. Come round to meet her! Perhaps you’ll take a shine to her.”
Fingall scowled. “Stop trying to marry me off. I prefer to be on my own, and you know it.”
“Aye.” Dhugall replied, waving and smiling as he walked away. “Alone with your cows.”
###
Despite ribbing one another, the brothers were fond of each other and each other’s closest living kin. When the day came around that Murron’s cousin was in town, she reminded her husband to reinvite Fingall to supper. “He’ll be around, woman.” Dhugall had reassured her as he dressed in the morning.
ROMANCE: His Reluctant Heart (Historical Western Victorian Romance) (Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Fantasy Short Stories) Page 81
