The Washing Woman - A Halloween Story - Sex Stories

The Washing Woman - A Halloween Story

... She walked toward him and pressed her body against his. An electric jolt went through his body and he found himself automatically pressing himself back against her naked flesh.

He was afraid at first that he might frighten her or push her backwards into the tub, but she stood strong and immobile as he pressed against her with all his might.

“Let’s go into the bedroom,” she said as she slowly began pushing him backwards with her wet, naked body. She continued pushing until he found himself seated on the edge of his bed.

“Let me take those off you,” she said with a smile as she knelt before him and began to lower his wool socks to his ankles and then slip them off his feet.

When she rose slightly and began to loosen his shirt he grabbed instinctively at something just under his right shoulder. “Oh, yes,” she said with a slight laugh, “this is your house. You wear your sgian-dubh concealed beneath your armpit rather than in the top of your sock.”

Quarrie pulled a small black knife from a special pocket in the shirt protected by his armpit. As he displayed the small, black knife to the woman he said, “This is not a sgian-dubh. It is a sgian-achlais, the true Scottish dagger.” Then with a smile he continued, “This has been in my family for many generations. It is a real knife, not that stylized symbol that modern Scotts shove into their socks.”

He pulled the knife from its jewel-encrusted sheath and said, “This knife was a Scotsman’s constant companion. It was ...

... always well-protected here. He slapped his right shoulder with his left hand. As a sign of trust when entering another’s home, you would pull your knife from its pocket, but you would not give it up. Instead, you would push it into the top of your sock.”

He slid the knife back into its sheath and said, “It is best to return this to its sheath.”

Then he pushed the bed sheets aside and pulled the woman onto the bed with him, saying, “And that is not the only knife that needs to be sheathed tonight.” He paused and then said, “If you are willing.”

The woman did not answer, but instead began stroking his chest and nuzzling into him.

“Slowly, slowly,” he said as she kissed his neck. “We want to make this last.”

He reached down to stroke her breasts and tweak her nipples. Her breasts were rather small, but well-formed. They seemed to swell slightly as his hands continued to wander over them and her nipples hardened and rose to his touch.

As his hands continued to roam over her beautiful body, he could begin to smell the scent of woman, a scent he had not had within his bed chamber for some time. And he could feel the hardness of his manhood pressing against her leg with an intensity that earlier tonight seemed like only a memory.

To Quarrie’s surprise, she suddenly pushed him over onto his back and swung her leg over his body. She lifted herself and with one downward move impaled herself on his cock. She then sat there slowly grinding herself into his groin with ...