Under the Kilt

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I trekked towards the exit in Edinburgh Airport, newly returned from another adventure watching the Scottish football team playing in some far flung European outpost. Estonia, Latvia, San Marino, Croatia; I’d visited them all and more besides in the last few years. Life was for living now and nothing was more appealing to me than donning the kilt, strapping on the sporran and heading for some less than exotic location that I’d only ever heard of in my geography lesson at school. Off to see my beloved Scotland play with some good mates and a few like-minded souls from across the country.

This had been a good away trip with Scotland winning on the Saturday and then managing a creditable draw in the second match on the Wednesday evening. After 10 days of non-stop drinking and partying I had arrived back in Scotland that Friday afternoon looking dishevelled and exhausted; but not out of place in the slightest with my fellow Tartan Army supporters. We were in good spirits and full of stories of our various mischiefs on foreign soil as we headed for the taxi rank. The party hadn’t quite finished for me however, as I was headed straight to the centre of Edinburgh to meet up with some work colleagues heading out for a birthday celebration.

As I stepped out of the taxi just after 7pm that Friday night, I was adorned in traditional Tartan Army attire: blue tee-shirt, kilt, sporran, knee length woollen socks and walking boots. In the normal Scottish tradition, no underwear was worn below the kilt and the September breeze was a welcome refreshment to my nether regions as I marched towards the pub, my rucksack of limited travel supplies slung over one shoulder.

The pub was mobbed, full of the suits and skirts that had recently fallen out of the city-centre offices in Edinburgh and straight into the pub for after-work drinks. I stood out like some novelty entertainment in fancy dress, there to be mocked by everyone. I didn’t mind, I’d only fleetingly reached sobriety for most of the last 10 days and a steady flow of beer at the airport and on the plane home had kept my confidence high and my swagger strong. I acknowledged the various comments and whistles as I fought my way through the crowd to the bar, keen to get a fresh pint of lager on order and find my friends. As I shouted over to the serving barmaid, I felt a warm hand rise up the back of my kilt and firmly squeeze a buttock. I turned round to see Louise, one of the admin assistants from work smiling broadly at me and winking. She moved forward to hug me tightly and welcome me home. Louise, in her normal way, was already showing signs of serious tipsiness after leaving the office at 5pm and spending the last 2 hours in the pub without anything to eat yet.

Louise was 23, pretty and very buxom. Tonight her ample breasts were brilliantly displayed in a slightly too-tight white blouse with 3 buttons left undone so that an inappropriate amount of cleavage was on show. She was wearing a navy blue skirt that finished just above her knee and a pair matching blue high heel shoes that showed off her legs, still beautifully tanned from her recent holiday to Spain with her fiancé. I admired her bronzed skin and soaked in her smile. She’d been away to Malaga in the 2 weeks before I’d gone off to watch Scotland. It was fully four weeks since we’d seen each other and she was looking fabulous after her holiday. More than could be said for me after 10 days of too little sleep and too much alcohol.

Louise and I didn’t really flirt with each other in the office. I’d throw the odd cheesy chat-up line at her but she rarely responded. From a few previous nights out though, I’d quickly worked out that her inhibitions dropped quickly after a few drinks and she was a keen to flirt and always accepted compliments enthusiastically.

The rest of the office gang had spotted me and made their way over. I greeted each of them in turn and then spun back to the bar to retrieve my pint of lager whilst ordering more drinks for my colleagues. Formalities over, we headed away from the busy bar area to a quieter spot where we could chat and I could amuse them with stories of my recently completed adventures in Eastern Europe. There were 8 of us out that night including Ali, whose 29th birthday we were celebrating. I was delighted to be centre of attention in my kilt and the 5 girls in our group were all playfully enquiring as to whether I was being a “true” Scotsman that evening. Louise blurted out that she had already checked very thoroughly as soon as I had arrived at the bar and that she knew the answer. The other 4 girls rounded on her for being so forward and decrying her proclamation until they had each personally confirmed the presence of my under garments or otherwise. The night look set to continue with great fun and hilarity as round after round of drinks were ordered and consumed.

By 9.30pm we were all suffering from the effects of our drinking. The other 2 guys from the office, canlı bahis Alan and Neil, headed away when Babs’ husband arrived to collect her. Babs was the oldest of the girls out that night. In her late 30’s, she run the main reception and was mother hen to all of us in the “young squad”. She could party hard though and was always there on nights out, creating some new crazy drinking game that would leave everyone drunk. However, that weekend she had a wedding on the Saturday so she’d arranged for her husband to collect her before it got too messy and he was happy to drop Alan and Neil off as they both lived in the east of the city, not far from Babs. I think both boys were a bit out of sorts that night with all the attention focused on me and my kilt.

I was left with Louise, Ali, Gillian and Ali’s friend Lisa. We decided to finish this round of drinks and then head for something to eat before we all became too drunk. We headed out of the pub into the dusky evening light of Edinburgh. It wasn’t that warm but we were all immune to the cold by then. Down the road we skipped, arms linked together, like Dorothy and her friends in the Wizard of Oz. “We’re off to see the wizard…” we sang and giggled to each other as we imitated the dancing step.

Round the corner we headed in to a pizzeria, in look of salvation and some food to absorb our alcoholic intake so far. I don’t remember what pizzas we ordered but we washed them down with 2 bottles of house red wine, which ensured that our food didn’t provide chance of causing an outbreak of sobriety. The waiter returned to ask if we wanted desert and a couple of the girls expressed an immediate desire for something sweet and indulgent. The waiter was dispatched with an order for 4 trifle deserts, which duly arrived a short time after. They were presented in a tall, narrow desert glass with the cream climbing above the rim and topped with a red glacier cherry. Lisa immediately complained that she didn’t like cherries and I took my opportunity to ask “could I take her cherry?”

She smiled, acknowledging my intended innuendo and slowly picked the cherry up, clenched between her teeth and covered in white, sticky cream that had spilled around her mouth as she bit to collect the cherry from the top of her desert. She turned towards me with the cherry still secure in her mouth and leaned forward to let me suck it from her toothy grasp. Our lips locked together as I took the cherry and the surrounding cream disappeared from her face as we kissed. After a few seconds we broke away from each other’s embrace and I sat back triumphantly as the other girls clapped and cheered our impromptu show. Lisa didn’t work beside us but was Ali’s best friend and always turned up at our work nights out so we all knew her fairly well. I really fancied Lisa and always tried it on with her when she was out with us. My success rate in chatting up Lisa, however, was zero. She always seemed to knock me back in a pleasant and polite manner without upsetting me (or putting me off trying the next time!). Maybe tonight my luck with Lisa was about to change due to her inebriated state?

Louise, however, was not to be outdone and was already spooning a large dollop of fresh cream onto her extended tongue. She topped it off by balancing the cherry on top of the cream and carefully leaning forward over the table to allow me to steal her cherry. I stole the cherry from the tip of her tongue and swallowed it. She stayed forward with her tongue still pushed out, the diminishing pile of cream dripping off either side and running down her chin, dripping onto the table. I unavoidable gazed down her blouse at those magnificent breasts as she wobbled precariously trying to keep her balance. The invitation was obvious and I leaned forward again to kiss her and lick the messy cream from around her mouth. Our tongues probed each other’s mouths back and forth as we kissed. Again as we separated the other girls applauded. It was 10.30pm and fortunately our area of the restaurant, which was tucked round a corner from the main area, was now empty. We’d obviously been placed there intentionally on our arrival as it was clear we were drunk and loud and likely to disrupt fellow diners if we’d been placed in the main pizzeria.

Birthday girl Ali was next to load up with desert ready to share it with me. However, before she had walked round the table to reach where I was sitting, Louise and Lisa dared her to swap her cherry with Gillian rather than me. I wasn’t disappointed to see the two girls lock lips as the fruit and cream swirled between them and their tongues. We all sat back down and giggled to each other in our drunken haze. I excused myself and headed for the toilet, needing to relieve myself of some of the lager and wine consumed over the evening so far.

The toilets were across the main part of the restaurant and through a door, which led up a stair to the first floor. I swung my sporran round to the side bahis siteleri and lifted my kilt to take hold of my cock and enjoy the release of emptying my alcohol-filled bladder. I smiled to myself thinking about the desert-filled snogging with my female friends and started to imagine what it might lead to later that night. I finished up, washed my hands and then headed back out. As soon as I exited the Male Toilets I was accosted by Louise in the corridor at the top of the stairs. She pulled me in tightly towards her and locked her lips onto mine. Our tongues twisted around each other and we stumbled back against the wall as we kissed. My hand reached up to start massaging one of her impressive breasts through her taught blouse. I then felt her reach down and under my kilt to wrap her warm hand around my cock. She squeezed and pressed at my shaft and then cupped my balls, gently rubbing each one in turn between her fingers. My knob responded to her touch and started to grow. She returned her hand to wrap it back around my extending shaft and began to rub her hand up and down my now erect penis.

Our molestation of each other continued as we kissed and probed each other’s mouths with our tongues. I pinched at Louise’s nipples through our blouse and bra and they reacted to my tweaking by stiffening up and protruding out through the material of her clothes. She was now stroking my cock up and down as her hand firmly enveloped my throbbing penis. Below us we heard the door opening and banging shut at the bottom of the stair as someone entered the stairwell. We nearly exploded apart in panic from each other, startled by the noise and interruption. Without any discussion we both instinctively headed for our respective toilets, not wishing to be caught in our compromising embrace.

I went straight to the cubicle inside the Male Toilet and locked the door behind me so I could gather some composure and wait for my erection to subside. As I hid patiently, I heard the Female Toilet door open and close. Whoever had disturbed our clinch had headed next door. After a few moments, my modesty had returned and I straightened my kilt and sporran before quickly heading out and back downstairs. I walked round to our more private enclave and noticed that Gillian was missing from the table as well as Louise. I surmised to myself that she must have been our interrupter from the stairwell. The other girls asked if I had met either Louise or Gillian en route but I said that I hadn’t and tried my best not to blush as I lied to them.

The other two girls returned from the toilet together and I made some jokey comment about what they might have been up to together while they were away. It deflected the attention away from me. To the relief of the pizzeria, the waiter appeared and I settled the bill before we all headed back out into the pleasant late summer evening in search of another bar or club.

It was after 11pm and we queued to get into a city-centre club with various different bars and dance floors over several floors. We headed to the Chill Out Bar on the 2nd floor, ordered more drinks and settled into a seated booth. We chatted the night away, re-filled our drinks regularly and the girls disappeared off intermittently in 2’s or all together for a dance on the level below. I could look over the balcony to gaze at them dancing, admiring the aerial view of Louise’s magnificent cleavage. Her nipples were still prominent through the material of her blouse as the disco lights flashed across her. I wasn’t sure if she was still aroused or if it was the effects of the cool night breeze from outside as we had queued earlier.

Later on, the girls pleaded with me to dance with them downstairs. I wasn’t a particularly good dancer and generally contented myself by avoiding the dance floor and admiring those with far better choreography than me. However, the drink had built up my confidence and I agreed. The five of us headed onto the busy dance floor and formed a small, tight circle where we jiggled around and bumped into each other. Periodically I would twirl around in my kilt and the girls would reach down to flick it up and slap my bum below. Our dancing slowly degenerated into fits of giggles and we gave up and returned to a new booth at the side of the dance floor, tucked behind a column. Birthday girl Ali was exhausted and announced she had to leave and was heading for the exit and a taxi. Lisa was staying at Ali’s that night and agreed it was time to head home. Louise looked at Gillian and declared she was for staying and continuing with the dancing and more drinking. Gillian admitted she would prefer to go just now and share the taxi home with the other two girls. “That’s fine!” exclaimed Louise “Dan will stay with me and look after me.”

I nodded sheepishly and mumbled something about making sure she got home safely and how the two of us could share a taxi. I embraced each of the three girls and they made their way to the bahis şirketleri exit.

Louise and I stared at each other across the table, neither of us quite sure what to say. I broke the spell and asked her if she wanted another drink. She nodded and I headed off to the bar. When I returned with a fresh pint of lager for me and a Southern Comfort and lemonade for Louise, she patted the booth seat next to her, indicating that I should sit beside her and not return to my former position on the opposite side of the table. I followed her directions and settled down in the booth. We quickly placed our hands on the other’s knees and we squeezed each other gently to acknowledge our situation. She leaned forward to kiss me again and, as we broke off from our embrace, she whispered “I’m so fucking horny Dan. I need you to fuck me tonight.”

My heartbeat started to pick up and I nodded my acknowledgment to her bold confession. We finished our drink in between kissing and, just as I was about to speak, her phone beeped for a text. Louise retrieved her phone from her bag and read the text from Ali confirming that she and Lisa were home and that they had safely dropped off Gillian on the way. Another text beeped in and a further message requested that Louise should “behave herself and not do anything I wouldn’t”.

Louise fumbled at her phone keypad to text a reply to Ali, “No promises. L. xxx”

We headed outside to the taxi rank. Louise and I both lived to the north of the city centre. Her house was 2 or 3 miles closer but that was out of the question as her fiancé would be there. We waited patiently in the queue for a taxi. It was 1am and much cooler now. Louise’s nipples had made a return appearance, it seemed they were almost about to rip the material apart with the force that they pushed against her tight blouse. Her phone buzzed once more and she pressed the button to read the message. It wasn’t from the girls but from Chris, her fiancé. “Power cut in Stirling. I’ve been called out on stand-by to help repair fault. Text me when your home safe. See you in the morning. Chris.” she read out.

I squeezed her bottom and smiled, “Perfect timing.” I declared.

After 5 minutes of queuing we eventually reached the front of the line and climbed into the next taxi that arrived on the rank. We gave Louise’s home address and the taxi sprang into action. We kissed and fondled each other in the back of the taxi as it sped through the increasingly empty streets as we left the city centre. I was enjoying the feel of Louise’s fabulous tits and eye-popping nipples as my fingers worked across each breast in turn, back and forth. Occasionally Louise would reach forward under my kilt again to stroke my cock. Each time I’d draw back from her and whisper that I wouldn’t be able to climb out the taxi in my kilt unnoticed with an erection. As we drew close to her house, she asked the taxi driver to drop us off at a nearby petrol station. We paid the fare and the taxi turned in the road and raced away back towards the city centre again. We walked up past the garage and cut through a lane which acted as a shortcut to the street where Louise lived. We constantly looked around us as we quickly and quietly entered her house, locking the door immediately. There was no sign of Chris’ work van outside so we were confident that he was long gone, away to Stirling to repair the broken power lines and restore electricity to the stricken households.

Louise closed the lounge curtains and we made our way to the sofa, quickly resuming our embrace and allowing our hands to explore each other as before. There was no-one to interrupt or disturb us now and I started to undo the buttons on Louise’s blouse one by one. I stepped back and opened her blouse up, pulling it down over her shoulders. She shook it loose from her arms and quickly pulled me back in towards her again. Having massaged her boobs through her bra, I reached round to release the clasp. It sprang loose in my fingers and I drew back once more to pull the straps down and off. At last those amazing tits were free and those remarkably erect nipples were standing proud in front of me. I took one in between my finger and thumb and started to roll it and pull at it gently. Louise stretched out on the sofa and pushed herself forward as she arched her back and strained. I bowed down to take the other nipple in my mouth and start to lick my tongue around it, sometimes flicking my tongue over the top of the nipple back and forth. Louise sighed and I could feel her hands rest on the back of my head as I continued to work her nipple around my mouth, occasionally biting it and pulling on it gently with my teeth.

After a while Louise pushed me back and broke the magnetic field that seemed to hold my mouth tightly to her breast. She shoved me off the sofa on to my feet and reached forward to run both hands up each of my thighs below my kilt. She drew them down towards my knees again and then thrust the up and forward once more, this time reaching round to grab my buttocks and squeeze them. She paused for a second and then asked me to climb and stand on the coffee table behind me. “Is it strong enough?” I enquired.

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