A Proper Scottish Wife Ch. 18

Isobel's first night with Frang. How will it go? Teárlag's last night with Thorburn this trip. How will it end? This chapter contains lots of oral sex and a brisk, well deserved spanking. Don't read it if you don't like it. For those that do, enjoy.

*****

When they got to Frang's room, the first thing Isobel saw was a tub filled with hot water. She looked at him.

"I know how much you enjoy a hot bath. I wasn't able to get a screen built for you, but I can turn away if you want me to."

"We are married now. I imagine you'll see me many times without my clothing on. If you can withstand the sight of me without violating your promise; I'm not averse to you seeing me."

"I promise to remain a gentleman, no matter how aroused I become," Frang said, smiling.

"Can you loosen my hair for me?" Isobel asked.

"Of course."

Isobel sat on the bed and Frang sat beside her. Removing hairpins as he went, he loosened the braids Teárlag so carefully crafted. He gently separated the strands of hair, finally running his hands through her hair, letting it cascade down her back.

"Would you like help with the buttons?" He asked, breathily.

"Please."

He unhooked each loop until all were done.

"Finished," Frang said. He shifted away from her, giving her space.

Isobel stood and eased the dress off her shoulders, lowering it to the floor. Nothing stood between her and his hot gaze but the embroidered under shift. She moved closer to the tub and when she was beside it, she pulled the shift over her head and dropped it. Frang had an all too brief glimpse of her naked form before she stepped carefully into the tub and sank into the water. He collected the dress and shift from the floor, laying them over the chair placed by the fire. Frang noticed when he approached the tub to gather the shift, Isobel shrank a little in the water, wondering what his approach signified to her. More than at any previous time did he realize how badly scarred she'd been in her dealings with McTavish and how little she trusted men, even himself. Once again he damned the blackhearted villain and hoped he spent an eternity in hell.

When he moved away from her, she relaxed, even more so when he returned to the bed.

"Would you like me to wear something tonight?" Frang asked. "I could put something on if it would make you more comfortable."

"How do you normally sleep?"

"A nightshirt in the winter, normally bare during the summer."

"Would it bother you over much to wear a shirt?"

"I will happily wear whatever would make you more comfortable," Frang replied.

"A shirt please," her voice low and timid.

"As you wish, my Lady."

He went to the cupboard and found a lighter nightshirt. Going back to the bed, which was slightly behind her, he removed his wedding finery and put on the shirt. Putting his things away, he climbed into the bed.

"I have a suggestion, Isobel, which might assist us become more comfortable with each other."

"Yes?"

"Let us pretend, as best we can, that this is the first time for both of us. Neither of us has ever been with another. Since it will be our first time, we will be shy and uncertain. I will only reveal what you are comfortable with me revealing, and you will only show me what your shyness would dictate if this were our first experience. You may touch what you're willing to touch and I will only touch what you are prepared to be touched. Nothing need happen tonight. It will take awhile to overcome our reserve, but we have all the time in the world, so we aren't rushed. We aren't even married. You're a young girl, and I'm a young man and we want to explore the differences between us at our own pace. Do you think this would help you?"

"Perhaps. I'm unsure if I am able to pretend so much."

"I want you to be comfortable and I hope this might help."

"I'm willing to try."

"There are cloths for drying yourself beside the tub and the maid left your night shift on the chair by the fire. You may come to bed when you're ready. I'm going to close my eyes now."

Ten minutes later, he felt Isobel sit on the edge of the bed.

"Lie down," he said, "and face me."

She laid down, facing him. Her nightgown was on. He smiled at her.

"Isobel, with your permission, I would like to touch your face. May I please?"

"Yes."

Very slowly and with infinite care, his hand bridged the small gap between them and he cupped her cheek.

"You're so beautiful," he said. "My heart nearly stopped when I saw you standing at the door in your dress. Stuart had to remind me to breathe. He told me if I didn't, the ceremony would end quickly and ignominiously if I fainted. You were halfway up the aisle before I could take another breath."

He brushed a damp tendril of hair from her brow and grazed the backs of his fingers from her temple, along her cheek and down her neck. She shivered at the light touch, like a feather. His fingertips went out her shoulder and down her arm before retracing their way back to her cheek.

"I would like to kiss you," Frang said, "but if you would be kissed, you must kiss me as I do not wish to startle you nor crowd you. Will you kiss me?"

She nodded and leaned forward, skimming her lips across his cheek, then his lips. He didn't move, waiting for her. Her lips brushed his in a whisper, then gone. He waited and when he didn't move to grab her, they came back, lingered a moment longer before moving away.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Frang asked.

"Nay, not bad," she answered.

"Perhaps another, a little longer this time? I'm closing my eyes, surprise me."

Frang closed his eyes and he felt her lips touch his, then gone, but they returned shortly and as soft as a snowflake, they stayed, five seconds, seven, ten, before they left. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"That was a lovely kiss, so soft and tender, it could melt my heart. I'm going to keep my eyes open this time, so I can see your face. If you could give me another kiss exactly like that one, it would be perfect."

He waited, but only a moment and her lips found his again, warm and glorious, loitering on his for almost a minute. It was just a touch. Her mouth was not parting for his, but it was a start.

"I would like to hold you," he said, "but it should be your choice if I hold you from behind where I might kiss your neck, or as we are now, face to face, so I might kiss your lips some more, and perhaps your nose, your cheeks, your brow. I feel we've made excellent progress so far, so you may sleep now, with my arms around you. I will demand no more of you tonight."

"Hold me from behind, please."

She turned over and Frang pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms, but he did not grab her breasts nor her sex; he just held her loosely. Occasionally, she would feel his lips touch her neck, sending a shiver down her spine, and once he may have nipped lightly with his teeth where her neck met her shoulder, which almost caused her to arch her neck, but he did not persist and she resisted the impulse.

He was hard. Isobel could feel the rigid length of him against her backside; but he did not thrust, nor rub his cock against her. As his breathing evened out and she felt his body relax into sleep, his hardness went away. She lay awake, somehow expecting he would do more, force her in some way; but he never did and eventually, she found her own sleep without nightmares.

******

The next morning, Isobel woke up and felt his bare hardened cock against her bared bottom and her body tightened, expecting to feel him pushing his way into her, but he didn't move and his breathing remained smooth and even. She realized he was still asleep, their night clothes rucked up in their sleep and remembered McTavish sometimes woke up in the morning with a cockstand. Even he did not always abuse her with it in the morning. Frang's arms were still around her. She gently removed his arms so she could turn without disturbing him. The room was still dim, the sun not yet risen, but the light of dawn not far away.

Looking at him, asleep like this, his face slack and youthful, he did not seem so threatening. She glanced down at his manhood, the skin so taut and tight looking, even that did not seem so threatening this morning. It's one little cyclopean eye stared up at her like a maimed doll. He stirred and turned over on his back. When he did so, it did not appear he was fully hard, as it lay against his stomach rather than up and away from his body. It seemed strange something so small could be an instrument of such pain and abuse.

"Would you like to touch it?"

Isobel started, and slid away from him, glancing up to see his eyes open and regarding her. He made no moves towards her, so she relaxed a little and stilled.

"Only at your own pace, Isobel, remember. You may touch it or not as is your wish."

"You will not force yourself upon me if I encourage you by touching it?"

"Nay, dear heart. Only as much or as little as you can abide. I'll not hurt you, nor go faster than you are willing. I'll not risk a lifetime of happiness for a few moments of stolen pleasure."

Encouraged by his calmness, she reached out with a tentative hand, brushing against it with her fingers and it leapt up, standing a hand's width from his body, and she snatched away at it's sudden motion. As she watched, it slowly relaxed against his belly once more.

Frang smiled at her. "It enjoys your touch."

"Does it hurt when it's like that?"

"It can. If it remains hard for a long time without relief, but it is not painful now."

"Do you always wake up with it like it is now." Her hand reached for it again. She touched it and this time she did not flinch as it moved.

"Frequently, before I take my morning piss."

"Do you need to use the chamber pot now?" Isobel asked.

"I'm good at present. Did you not speak of such things with McTavish?"

"Nay. If I spoke of sex, I could expect him to use me, horribly. I never asked him anything. I tried to avoid him as much as possible."

"So you don't know much about sex except it was painful and difficult."

"For me."

"You're still touching me."

Isobel looked down and she was touching Frang's cock. She pulled away, but noting his smile of encouragement and calm demeanor, she reached for it again. No longer startled by it's reaction when she touched it, she left her hand there even when it moved in her hand.

"It gets harder when I touch it," she said.

"I told you it enjoys your touch."

"Does it get harder yet?"

"Maybe a little, if you were to stroke it. Why don't you try? Grip it like you do your sword and stroke it."

"I know what happens next."

"Do you? Remember, this is our first time ever with anyone. We are fresh and untouched, just finding out about each other, about the differences between men and women." He smiled warmly at her.

Frang was so relaxed, lying there with his silly grin on his face, not demanding, nor grabbing or hurting her. Isobel wrapped her hand around it, her fingers just reaching around it. She softly tugged on it. His cock got a tiny bit stiffer and larger but he made no other motion. She pulled on it again and she heard a low moan escape his throat.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Isobel asked.

"Nay, far from it. The sensation is exquisite. Your touch is so light and delicate. I'm enjoying it immensely."

She kept stroking him and a drop of clear fluid escaped from his cock hole.

"This doesn't look like a man's essence. What is it?"

"Touch it, spread it over the tip."

Isobel touched it, and it was slick. When she spread it around, his cock got slipperier. As she spread it another drop was released.

"God, in his infinite wisdom, did not want the act of procreation to be painful," Frang said. "Our bodies create fluids to help ease our coupling. Men have it and women also, to ease our entry into a woman's body. This is the agent for the male. It's like the difference in rubbing your hands together while dry or wet. When dry, our hands create warmth when rubbed together, because it does not slide easily. When wet, we create no such warmth. Our hands slide too easily."

"And you say women have this same fluid?"

"Not the same, but similar."

"I've never noticed a fluid like this. Maybe it's why sex was so painful to me. Perhaps I'm not like other women."

"Have you never noticed slickness when you've touched yourself?" Frang asked.

"Like a man?" Frang nodded. "I've only ever touched myself in the bath. I noticed no extra fluid, just the water. My mother said such acts are prohibited by God, so I try to avoid them, though it's hard to when I wash."

"I don't believe God would give us something he didn't want us to use. He would not want us to do such things to the exclusion of procreation, because it is the intent of our union, but if not for touching myself, I might not have survived the past few weeks."

"What do you mean, Frang?"

"Since you've been around, I find myself aroused frequently. You're beauty enchants me. Remember how I said remaining hard without relief would give me pain?"

"Yes."

"I would have been in pain very often if unable to seek relief. Rather than finding a willing partner to provide such relief, I would relieve myself much as you are now. In fact, I find what you're doing is so pleasurable, I will soon find the relief I would seek if I were alone now, because your body has tempted me so. I would enjoy it much more if you would continue doing as you are. Only one thing could make it better for me."

"You want to enter me?"

"Someday. Today, kisses such as you gave me last night would be all I need to make this more. I do not demand them, I ask if you would grant them."

"I will kiss you."

Isobel drew closer to him and changed hands on his cock. She leaned across the small distance separating their faces and touched her lips to his. His moaning was becoming more pronounced and she felt his hips thrusting slightly beneath her hand though he tried to remain still. Listening to his sounds of pleasure while her hand stroked him was giving her a sense of power she'd never before felt when with a man. It gave her a sense of control over him. It helped he was not grabbing, holding, forcing; merely lying there and letting her act on him. He groaned loudly and she felt his cock stiffen and it began pulsing in her hand. The first jet of his essence reached the middle of his chest, the second nearly as far and each succeeding pulsation reached less and less distant from his throbbing cock. His hands were gripping the sheets in his determination not to grab Isobel and rain a hundred panting kisses on her lips. A dozen times she felt his shaft pulse under her hand until only dribbles came out, the last few drops flushed from his body.

Frang panted hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His hands continued to clench the sheets, willing himself not to seize her.

"You enjoyed that, my husband?"

"Very much so, Isobel. It was wonderful. I feel I should return the favor."

"You wish to enter me now?"

"Would you want me to enter you now?"

"Nay, I'm not ready yet."

"I didn't think you were ready. What I had in mind was something different. Are you familiar with how women give pleasure to one another?"

"I am uncertain. I've wondered, especially after deciding I no longer wanted to be with a man again. I suppose there must be different things they do with one another. Use their hands or fingers, like I do on myself, but on each other. Why?"

"Women will occasionally use their tongues on one another; on their breasts or another woman's sex. Men can do it too. Are you familiar with this practice?"

"McTavish would make me suck his cock and lick and bite my breasts, but nothing but a cock was ever used on my sex."

"I don't want to put anything inside of you until you are ready to grant it, but if you would permit me to, I could use my tongue to pleasure you. Other than my lips and tongue, nothing else need touch you and you may hold my head to push me away if you do not like it. Would you be willing to try?"

Isobel was curious. Never wanting to endure another man's touch, she'd wondered about the touch of a woman. How they would give pleasure to one another; if it would be different and in what way. No one had ever done anything like that with her and Frang saying it was a way for a woman to pleasure another made a strange variant for her. At least nothing would be pushed into her sex or her ass which had almost always hurt.

"I will try it if you promise to stop if I ask."

"You are in charge."

"What must I do?" Isobel asked.

"You should be comfortable. Put both pillows behind your head, lie back and spread your legs apart for me, wide enough to get my head and possibly my shoulders between them."

Isobel looked long and hard at him. Frang promised he would not force her and he'd kept all of his promises thus far, but spreading her legs for him would make her feel very vulnerable. She arranged the pillows to support her comfortably and laid back. She slowly spread her legs, exposing herself, once again feeling she might be losing control of the situation, but willing to try. She saw the heat in his eyes increase as she presented herself to his intent gaze. He lay down at the foot of the bed with his head near her knees.

He saw the fear flaring as he got near, so he said, "I'm going to lie on my hands, so I can't use them, see," as he tucked them under his stomach. He saw her smile though the fear remained. He turned his head to the left and kissed the soft skin on her inner thigh just above her right knee. Frang waited until he saw some of the tension leave her leg before he turned and kissed the same spot on her other leg. All she felt were small kisses and licks, feeling nice and unthreatening. She relaxed further.

He inched up a small amount and kissed the new spot available to him. His kisses were light, soft caresses on her inner thighs easing her fears and soothing to her. He scooted forward a wee bit more and she was more sensitive in the spots he could reach now. It was becoming more than soothing. Every few minutes, he came closer to her core. She could feel the hair on his head brushing against her sex as he moved his lips from side to side. Getting closer each time he moved, but never fast, never hurried, and the sensations were starting to accelerate. Gradually, his lips and tongue reached the very tops of her legs where they joined her sex and she felt a slow lick that went from the top of one leg to the top of the other that brushed against her nether lips.

He stopped momentarily and she was confused because she actually wanted him to continue. That little touch had her desiring more. She wanted to feel his lips on her, his tongue on her.

"Touch yourself for a moment and you will feel the liquid God provided a woman to ease her coupling."

Isobel put her fingers down on her sex and was surprised to feel dampness there. She slid a finger through her folds and found the liquid just as slick as the drop on the tip of his cock. She felt his breath on her fingers.

"It's just as you said," Isobel said in wonder. "Just as slippery as yours."

"If you have not been slick before, it's because no one took the time to excite you enough for your body to create the necessary fluid. When a man and woman take the time to properly arouse themselves, there's no reason for it to hurt. You may remove your hand now. Your pleasure is mine to give. I wanted you to feel it before I licked you so you knew it was from you and not me that you were wet. Use your hands to hold your breasts, since I cannot use mine."

Her hands went up to her breasts and Frang continued his slow teasing. Inching up until he could lick her without strain, he ran his tongue up her slit and he heard her gasp of pleasure. My God, Isobel thought. That feels heavenly. Never had she felt anything to compare with it. Even her own fingers were a poor substitute. His tongue was so smooth and wet, the muscle stiff or soft, pointed or wide as he willed it. He covered every inch of her sex with kisses interspersed with tantalizing licks of the tongue. She kneaded her breasts as he stimulated her to distraction. She felt his tongue stiffen and poke itself into her sheath and felt a fresh flood of fluid to her loins in response. She could feel liquid running down between between the cheeks of her ass and never before had that happened unless it was a man's cum. That it could be hers amazed her no end.