We continued our conversation with the girl until you appeared in the circle, hands on hips, demanding to know if I was the grandson of Ian MacTavish. You were a bossy thing even then and I couldn't help but fall in love with you, but you were too young.”
The memory seems to soften her defensive posture. “My parents went on and on about how you were the favorite grandson of Ian MacTavish, the owner of the centuries-old MacTavish Distilleries, and close to my age. They suggested I get to know you, maybe even invite you over. I was a dutiful daughter and did what they asked, but as far as I could tell, you were just two roughhousing boys. I didn't see why you'd want to spend time with me. Someone pointed you out, but I couldn't tell which boy you were. I thought being direct was the best course of action.”
I take a sip of whiskey, remembering that first encounter. “You were so beautiful and still are. I never recalled you going through an awkward phase; you seemed to grow bonnier each year.”
She smiles at the compliment. “It wasn't until I was in secondary that I realized I had a crush on you. Although I wasn't sure what that meant. My girlfriends were all mad about you. It took you two years before you asked me out.”
“It's been the two of us ever since.”
“The two of us until three years ago,” she corrects me. “I enjoy strolling through the memories, but you promised a frank conversation, and I want to get to the heart of the matter. Can't you tell me why you left me at the church without an explanation?”
I level my gaze at her, not willing to stop the progression of our history. “I was so smitten with you, I let you manage my life and allowed you decide who would be my friends. You were able to get rid of most of them, except for Geordie.”
She flicks a dismissive hand at me. “I never thought Geordie was a good influence on you. That's the one time you stuck to your principles and said Geordie would always remain in your life.”
“Friends warned me I was giving up too much to be with you, that I'd be better off if I saw several girls. I wouldn't hear it; I thought they were wrong and that they judged you harshly.”
“Did Geordie have the same opinion of me? Did he try to warn you off?”
“He did in the beginning, but he kept his advice to himself when he saw I wouldn't listen to him. He realized that if he didn't accept you, we would have no relationship.”
“I always knew he was not my biggest fan.”
“He thought you were too ambitious and too controlling for someone like me.”
“I'm all those things, but I used those talents for us to get ahead. I convinced Ian that you had more talent than a worker in one of his factories.” She does a steady, impatient tapping on the armrest. She's growing tired of the past, especially when it doesn't reflect on her kindly.
“I didn't care about that. I only wanted you and I would've done anything to please you.”
“Then why did you call off our wedding?”
I'm not ready to answer that question. There's something more I need to know. “Do you remember when we were first together?”
Her eyes flash with memory as a smile creeps across her lips. “How could I not, when I engineered the weekend?”
I smile too, recalling her cleverness. She was forever the planner and always looking to the future. “I never asked how you found us a place in Glasgow…you were only eighteen at the time.”
“I was desperate for us to be alone. All we ever did was sneak around in the back seat of cars or closets. The awkwardness of trying to satisfy our needs in those cramped spaces, with my shirt wide open and you dry-humping me. I was afraid I'd go mad if we didn't do it soon and I wanted it to be memorable.”
Fiona phoned me at school to tell me she had a surprise for my birthday and she would send me the information when it was confirmed. I found out later that she'd told her parents she was on a cultural weekend with her school.
I was at university and didn't need an excuse. When I met her at the address she gave me, it was nearly dark. It was a wee cottage, almost in the middle of nowhere. When I realized we would be there for the weekend, I was ready to do the deed right there, but Fiona had other plans.
She pointed out the amenities of the cottage, mainly the kitchen and the toilet, then she led me into the bedroom and told me to take everything off.
I gladly did what Fiona asked while she worked the remote for a large television tacked to the wall. She found a movie channel, then tossed the remote on the bed to pull off her clothes. I stared at my gorgeous girl who was finally naked in front of me, but before getting in the king-size bed, she ran out of the room with tits bouncing and her round arse a sight, while shouting she'd forgotten something.
This young Venus returned with dark hair wisping at her heavy tits, carrying a cheap bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured, informing me she had a case for the weekend. I drained the god-awful stuff just to begin our adventure while she sipped at hers. When she saw I had none in my glass, she poured me another generous portion and sat against the headboard, reaching for the remote.
“I thought we'd watch a movie,” she said, pointing the wee black rectangle at the screen. I was stiff as a wooden plank, needing badly to shove my cock into her pussy. I slipped a hand over a breast and kissed her ear. “Later. We can watch after I've taken you.”
“No, Lochlan, you need to see this before we start.”
I pulled her closer, but she wiggled out of my grasp. Then I heard banging and a female moaning. I switched my attention to the telly to see a girl holding onto a bedpost while a lad with an enormous cock was pumping her from behind. I'd seen dirty photos, but I'd never seen a pornographic film.
My memory goes to gray, still feeling the lust those images produced. “You had me watch dirty films for hours before you let me touch you.”
“The cottage offered an adult channel as part of the rental. It was our first time, and I wanted you to be aware of all the possibilities.”