The Window

Again, I walk down this lonely cobblestone street. It is dark, and the rain had stopped a while ago. I am shivering a little. The cobblestones are slippery, so I carefully step aside when I hear a one-horse carriage approaching from behind. I cannot see who is in the carriage. All I can see in the dim light of a street lamp is the back of the coachmen.

I stop for a moment, holding my breath. Much to my relief, the carriage leaves the narrow main road after a few more yards and turns to the right. Now I can see it, not far away - a brightly illuminated window on the ground floor of a big house. It is one of those early Georgian houses you still find in Edinburgh, luxuriously appointed, light-grey, surrounded by an iron fence, which is over ten feet high. This is just to protect the house owners from the ordinary rabble. But this is not Edinburgh. I can feel it.

The drizzle starts again, and I pull the hood of my long, black cape entirely over my head while I slowly approach the house. My heart is beating strongly as I reach the end of the cobblestone street. To the left and right, the narrow street continues. My shivering hands are clasping the iron fence as I look at the window, so bright - a promise of warmth. Then I see her, and my thoughts suddenly go back to the Highlands, as I watch her brushing her long, dark hair.

My mind drifts far away to a lonely Loch, surrounded by glens. I fly a few miles, higher and higher, and look down to the glens, where the Highland cattle are grazing. Then I change my direction, and soon I pass the Trossachs and Loch Lomond. Then I see them - hundreds of warriors, hidden in the Drunkmoon Wood, their faces painted white and blue. All this happens at the same time, about twelve miles from where I stand now, watching the young lady behind the illuminated window.

How wonderful she is, her skin so white! How shy she was the first time, so young and innocent, a daughter of a respectable bourgeois family. And how excited I was when my time finally had come - when I used all my seductive wiles, and perhaps a few supporting spells, to make her mine. We sat at the edge of her bed, and I put my arms around her, embracing her, while I touched the soft skin of her neck.

I played gently with her long hair, my lips inches from hers. Then our breasts touched, and she was confused when she felt my hard buds. Her eyes widened when my tender hands caressed her breast, and much to my delight, her innocent rosebuds grew as well. Soon, our lips touched, as I untied her corset. She looked into my eyes, so full of love and desire.

I stroked her hair again, and touched her cheeks gently. While I looked deeply into her eyes, my fingertips started to fondle her shoulders, then her upper arms. My fingertips were tickling her back, down to her hips.

She moaned slightly when I pressed my lips harder against hers, and soon she opened her mouth when my tongue demanded entry. I softly cupped her breast, and my tender fingers played with her nipples, slowly rubbing them between my fingers.

Once more, I looked deep into her eyes as we stopped kissing. I started to circle my tongue around her stiff nipples. She shut her eyes when I started to suck her stiff buds into my mouth, and finally I felt her hand at my breast, softly squeezing. She pulled my breasts out of my cleavage, and started to suck my hard summits, then she moaned deeply when my hand slid into her knickers.

I had no doubt - she was mine now, and she called my name when my fingers slowly started to twirl in her pussy. I made her cum for the first time in her life. At least I felt sure it was the first time for her. We spent the night together, and we could not get enough. When the morning sun was shining through the curtains, we had tried so many wonderful positions. Soixante-neuf was our favorite, which we did once more after we woke up.

Raindrops now fall on my face, mixing with tears. I feel the cold, wet iron fence, like ice in my shivering hands. She turns her back on me, not knowing that I still watch her while she brushes her hair. She no longer is mine, and my heart feels so sad, like it was pierced by a knife. What will happen is out of my control.

Tomorrow she becomes the fiancée of someone else. She has already been promised to a Captain of the Royal Troops. Same to same - the strategy of the rich and noble. I cannot stop my tears, and the pain in my heart becomes intolerable, so I turn away. I do not look back, and I no longer feel the hard wind that blows freezing-rain into my face.

Restless, I walk aimlessly through the empty streets, feeling completely numb and isolated. Then suddenly, someone stands in front of me. First I notice some riding boots, then a sword, and when I raise my eyes, he excitedly gasps with a choked voice: "Thank God I found you! We will advance soon. So, what are your proposals? Your advice, scout?"

With eyes cold as ice, I look at him, completely numb. "Take the road through the Drunkmoon Wood."

"But we'll be making a wide detour!"

"Yes, you will," I reply calmly. "This is the only way. The main road was flooded last night."

"Hurry up, and come with us! We need you as our scout!" he commands, while his curling mustache shivers.

"I will come soon. I'll stay a mile behind the lines to watch for enemy scouts..."

He nods. Then he disappears. His days are numbered, his men are lost. I feel so guilty, and they will burn me for that. I turn around and walk back to the big house with the brightly illuminated window. Her Captain will not come back.