Morag struggled to catch her breath, snatching a stolen glance at their sponsor as he walked over, her arousal building along with her curiosity. Duggan seemed to recognize both, because he thrust into her over and over, keeping her pleasured.
Mr. Grant bent and kissed her lips. It was a tentative yet sensuous gesture, and she found his touch stimulating.
“You are a splendid woman,” he said, “and I take great pleasure in seeing you with Duggan.”
Pride made her chest swell.
He ran his hands over the outline of her breasts through her clothing before undoing his breeches. His cock sprang out, long and hard and pointing skyward. Morag wondered if he would stroke it again as he had previously. On a wild notion she put out her hand. A moment later she found her palm filled with his hot prick and she pumped vigorously.
Dizzy with rapture, she moaned loudly. Each thrust they offered her pleasured her immensely. Then Mr. Grant reached a hand for Duggan’s back, stroking it, admiration in his eyes.
“There will be many days and nights where we can enjoy each other this way,” he whispered, as if to himself.
Duggan barely paused in his endeavors, but managed to respond. “Aye, with Morag to anchor me.”
Mr. Grant moved to the bed and climbed upon it. Between Duggan’s thrusts, she could see that Mr. Grant continued to stroke his back, his hands moving down to where Duggan’s hips moved rhythmically as he drove his length into her. The situation aroused her even more, and she arched her hips and moaned aloud. Duggan had invited Mr. Grant to join them, and it seemed he could, for he was close at Duggan’s back and she saw him take his hand to his mouth and then lower it. With great curiosity, she wondered what he was doing. Just as she wondered that, Duggan arched like a bow against her and moaned loudly. His manhood swelled yet again and she could scarcely breathe, for the girth of it had stretched her to capacity and more.
Duggan panted loudly then thrust into her again, his actions wilder still.
Morag was filled to the hilt. Whatever it was Mr. Grant was doing back there, it made Duggan respond, and it made her pleasure double. Morag could only wonder and be grateful, for it was the best tumble she had ever known. “Oh, oh, it is good!”
“Yes!” Duggan panted loudly and then ground against her, his hips moving in more shallow thrusts as Mr. Grant closed against his back. His manhood was arched inside her, curving and rubbing against her most sensitive places.
The weight of the two pressed against the seat of her pleasure and triggered her release, her cunny tightening on Duggan’s length.
At Duggan’s back Mr. Grant moved rapidly and then cried out and stilled.
Then Duggan spoke a litany of curses and words of affection, seemingly mixed together in his delirium, while he pumped his copious seed into her.
When the three of them eventually regained their senses and settled on the bed—Duggan at the center, one of his lovers stationed either side him and resting in his generous embrace—Morag noticed that Mr. Grant seemed pleased with the events of the afternoon.
“Come now, James, don’t be coy,” Duggan teased when he saw his lover smiling fondly at Morag, “you may kiss my betrothed if you wish to.”
Mr. Grant broke into a relieved smile, then reached over and gave Morag a kiss on the lips. “Congratulations on your forthcoming marriage, my dear.”
Morag chuckled. “Thank you, Mr. Grant, but I haven’t yet agreed to it.”
He looked at her with an amused, wise expression in his eyes. “Call me James, please.”
“Thank you, James.”
Happily lolling on the bed against Duggan’s side, Morag looked at the two of them and sighed. Her menfolk were safe, and they wanted to bond with her for more than this moment and this day. “Aye,” she said to Duggan, “I think I will have you as my husband.”
Duggan shook his head. “You are headstrong, but I seem to like that.”
“So it appears,” she retorted.
When they both attempted to rain kisses on her at once, Morag bore it stoically, for deep down she considered herself the luckiest girl in Fife.
Hungry for more? Spice Briefs to suit every taste are available now at www.spice-books.co.uk, including these recent titles:
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All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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Published in Great Britain 2011.
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© Saskia Walker 2011
ISBN 978 1 4089 3617 7
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