Its funny when you are lecturing, you see some people catch your eye and not others. I was giving a lecture on the relationship between Ireland and Scotland and I noticed this girl. There wasn't very much to note about her. She was a brunette, pleasant enough face, medium height, and by what I saw, under her blue and white check shirt, she had a magnificent set of tits. She certainly was engrossed by what I was saying, or was it just me?
I think that I'd talked to the girl before, she was part of a National Trust Scotland work party, which was doing something on the old tower which was not that far from the centre. As a concession we allowed the people from the National Trust of Scotland to come into the evening lectures, and I was the one who was giving the first one of them this week. It was basically background. What I said doesn't matter. In the light of the research of the past 30 years I'm not sure that it was even true, but it was a hell of a good lecture. I watched the girl looking at me with cow eyes. After the lecture I said something meaningless to her and went off to a party.
The next night was a dance, and I had a feeling that she put her self in my way. Any way we ended up dancing to Carolina Moon, and I saw her home, as the National Trust work party were under a curfew! Ah the 1960s where officialdom hadn't worked things out.
Of course I got a kiss and a squeeze, but nothing was happening as she raced to get back to the hostel before they closed it up. Funny that in those days no one thought of staying out all night! (Mind you that reminds me of another story, but I wasn't the man involved). What I did organise was that I would meet up with her the next evening, as she had decided that the next lecture was not of interest to her.
So we met up outside the NTS hostel, and while the rest of her colleagues went off to hear my colleague develop my theme, after all I was only a student setting the scene, and they were lecturers with the latest research -- which may well be wrong. She was called Elisabeth. She stood there in tight jeans, her blue and white gingham blouse with the top two buttons open so that her cleavage was on display. I wore my black oilskin, even though there was no real prospect of rain, a pair of jeans and a denim shirt. We kissed gently and I took her hand and led her down the coast road, and then through a gate onto the track which lead to the shore. I took her over the rocks to a small cleft which was below the Spring tide mark, which had been under the sun all day, and was warm, and if you hit the sand hard you heard it singing back to you.
When we got down onto the sand we took off our shoes and socks. I took off my oilskin which provided a superb groundsheet. We lay down and kissed. Of course as we had walked along we had an odd peck on the cheek, but here a deep loving kiss where we were professing that something was happening. We lay there in each other's arms and I slipped my hand up the back of her blouse and began to play with the strap of her bra I wasn't expecting any rejection. A woman doesn't choose to come to a remote part of a remote Island with a man and not know what is likely to happen. We kissed gently and she pulled the tail of my shirt out of my trousers and pushing her hand down below my belt until she was messaging the top of my crack. I unhooked the strap of her bra, and brought my hand round to the front and pushed it under the wiring at the bottom of her cup and gently reached up and caressed her breast, feeling her quite large, erect nipple and her soft breast.
Elizabeth rolled onto her back obviously to give me a better access to her front. I took my hand off her tits and transferred it to the outside and undid her buttons. She reached over and grasped my denim shirt (remember them?) and pulled and the poppers all popped. It was amazing how quickly she let me take off her shirt and bra, and I had a magnificent pair to tits to play with. I took off my shirt, and we lay there skin on skin.
So I played with her tits. I licked them, and I sucked them. I set a row of kisses from her tits to her naval, she kissed back. Then she reached down and began to play with my budge, sat up cross-legged and reached down and undid my belt. With care she pulled my zipper down and peeled my jeans back so that she could see my prick straining against my underpants. In those days I was well hung, and my erect prick just peeped out the top of my y-fronts.
Well I though that it would be churlish to be dressed when she was not, so I kissed her gently pushed her down on the sand, opened the waistband of her jeans, and pulled down the zip. I knelt, and pulled her jeans off her. She lay there in her blue and yellow flowered knickers and I bent down kissed her and then placed my hand on her mound and began to pleasure her through the thin fabric of her pants. After some time she got up on her knees and pulled my Jeans off me and pushed her hand down the inside of my white Y fronts -- that was all there was at the time. I felt her hand exploring me, and then she pulled down my y-fronts down and I sprang up at attention.
I'd never been in the situation where the woman made all the running, well, except for Penny on a different Island who wanted to teach me the ways of love, so I just lay back and watched what would happen.
