Davida allowed her Uncle John to help her get into the wagon driven by a man with worse personal hygiene than Charles—and that was no easy fete.
She cried when they pulled away from the manor house where Davida had spent her childhood. It wasn’t because she felt anything for the people who were wishing her well, but because she was afraid of what the future held. If she could get her hands on the little twit who now inhabited her body, enjoyed her central heat, and marveled at her microwave oven, she’d gladly ring her neck.
As they drove across the countryside, she realized a ride in an open wagon across the hills and valleys of Scotland left a lot to be desired. She would have given anything for a pothole-infested country road. It would have been ten times better than this. It was evident these people had never heard of shocks or even springs for the seat.
Beneath her ass, the wooden plank upon which she sat felt like she was on a piece of concrete. To keep her mind off her discomfort, she had kept her eye on the sky and watched as the sun dipped lower in the west. Don’t these idiots know that we should be looking for a place to stop for the night?
“When will we be stopping?” she asked the grotesque man who sat next to her. “I need to relieve myself.”
The man who identified himself as Ian turned to her to reply. “We got at least another hour of daylight. We’ll stop then.”
His foul breath made her want to retch. She was sorry she’d even asked the question.
The sun sank lower and lower until the troll who sat beside her brought the wagon to a halt at last. Charles rode up to her, dismounted, and helped her down from the seat that seemed to be way too high for her to manage herself.
“How much further is it to the inn?” she asked, once he sat her feet on the ground.
“Inn?” Charles questioned in response. “There is no inn. This is where we will spend the night.
“Here?” she shrieked. “Where will we sleep?” Visions of consummating her marriage with this red-headed Attila the Hun in front of his men assaulted her overactive imagination.
“You will sleep in the wagon while my men and I sleep by the fire.”
“In the wagon?”
“Your belongings will be moved and we will give you a fur for your comfort.”’
Supper consisted of hard cheese and stale bread washed down with what Davida could only call piss-warm beer that tasted as bad as it smelled. When they finished eating, the men settled down for the night with not one of them offering to help her move anything.
In the darkness, she tugged on the trunks until she broke most of her fingernails. Finally, she cleared a space just large enough to lie down in the bed of the wagon.
“I didn’t like camping when I was a Girl Scout and we had tents and cots,” she muttered to herself. The only answer she received was the snores of the men by the fire. Maybe they all have sleep apnea and they’ll die in their sleep. Of course, I couldn’t get that lucky.
By the time morning came, Davida knew every bone in her body ached. The thought of bouncing across the countryside with the troll was even less appealing than it had been the day before.
Since the men were off pissing and shitting in the woods, she crawled out of the wagon by herself and found a bush that afforded her some semblance of privacy. She wanted to bathe, but with no stream nearby she had no choice but to become as gamy as the men with whom she was traveling.
“Where have you been?” Charles demanded when she returned to the makeshift camp.
“Doing the same thing you were doing.”
“You should have waited for me. You are my wife.”
“If I had waited until you decided it was time to come and escort me, I would have wet my...” she floundered for the proper way to say she would have pissed her pants.
“That is my fault,” Charles said, his voice softer than she’d heard it before. “It will take me awhile to get used to having someone other than myself to consider.”
Davida realized that in whatever time period she’d been dropped, women were little more than property.
* * * *
It was late afternoon and still Charles had not arrived. Gwain was beginning to become worried. One of his brother’s men had come to the manor house early in the morning with word that he would arrive with his new bride before nightfall.
In anticipation, he had instructed the servants to prepare a grand meal and to take the tub to the room that had been made up for Davida.
Gwain was apprehensive about this plan his brother had devised. The one thing he never expected was that while Charles was fighting for Scotland he would be injured, rendering him unable to be with a woman. By the same token, he had realized that he desired the company of men.
When he returned home, he had brought his comrade-in-arms as well as his companion, with him. People had accepted Brian who, for all intents and purposes, had his own quarters in the wing of the manor house that Charles occupied. Davida’s room would be in that wing of the house as well.
He worried about how the girl would react to being a wife to Charles in name only. He also worried about being the one to father the next heir to the McGowen clan. Could he convince her that this was a secret that must be kept at all costs? From what Charles had said, she was a very sheltered young woman. Would she shy away from such an arrangement?
“Charles is coming, Charles is coming!” a young boy shouted as he ran into the great hall.
All around him people stopped what they were doing to listen to what the boy was saying. Gwain knew the lad would be watching for the arrival of the McGowen men, as his father had left with Charles a fortnight earlier.
Gwain knew that Brian would be attending to the drawing of a hot bath for Charles. Since Brian was none too fond of the idea of Charles returning with a wife, he knew the young man would not make any arrangements for Davida’s bath. It was up to him to instruct the servants to begin filling the tub in Davida’s chambers with hot water, so that she could wash the dust from the road off her body.
He had no more than given the order when Charles burst into the great hall. “Fill my tub. I am dusty and dirty and I smell. As soon as I am clean, I am looking forward to a hot meal.” With that said, he pulled Gwain into a bear hug.
Gwain had to admit he felt relief at having his older brother home. Although the rest of the clan respected him, he was but the younger brother in their eyes and not their leader. During his brother’s absence he had given orders, but they had always been questioned. It would not be so with Charles home.
Once Charles released him, Gwain saw the woman who would become his lover. She was indeed young, perhaps not more than twenty winters old. Her red hair was long and thick and her eyes were as green as springtime grass.
“Davida,” Charles said, holding out his hand to her. “This is my brother, Gwain.”
The look on her face was one of shock. He couldn’t help but equate her to a doe caught between two hunters. She seemed tentative about holding out her hand to him. He couldn’t decide if she acted in such a way because she was ashamed of her appearance, or if she feared him.
“It is a pleasure to meet the delightful Davida,” he said, as he brought her dusty hand to his lips. “The servants have your rooms prepared and I have requested that a hot bath be drawn for you. Once you are bathed and rested, a feast has been prepared in honor of your arrival.”
“I trust you will see to Davida’s needs, Gwain,” Charles said.
Gwain had no doubt about the meaning of his brother’s words. By helping Davida with her bath, he would be paving the way for her to become his lover.
“Send Brian to my room to assist me as well,” Charles requested.
“He is already there, overseeing the filling of your tub. Between the two of us, we have kept the servants more than busy this day.”
* * * *
The young man who stood before her stunned Davida. Suddenly it all made sense. It was no wonder she’d been sent to this time. The year had to be somewhere around 1470, and Gwain was the spirit that had invaded her Ouija board.
Since she was his brother’s wife, it was evident that she would soon become his lover, and what a lover he would be. He was well-groomed. Even his beard was neatly trimmed and his hair was clean and freshly cut.
When he pressed her travel-dusty hand to his lips, she knew the real Davida would choose Gwain over Charles. No matter what it cost her, she would make the most of this affair.
It was entirely possible that the twenty-something twit would have a problem with the handsome hunk who tempted her to break her wedding vows, but she wouldn’t. While Davida dealt with Denise’s hot flashes, dry pussy, and mood swings, Denise who was now Davida, would have the time of her life.
There was something to be said for the wisdom of age and the knowledge she’d gleaned from all those erotic books she’d read since Fred’s death. She’d been given a second chance for the sex life she’d been denied the first time around. This time will be different, she silently vowed.
When Gwain kissed her hand, it sent a tingle through her body that told her this man could definitely be dangerous. She followed him up to the bedchamber that he indicated would be hers.
“Won’t I be sharing a bedroom with Charles?” she asked when he held open the door to an enormous room with a big bed and a fireplace.
“Charles prefers his own bedchamber,” Gwain replied. “I, on the other hand, enjoy having a woman in my bed.”
The undertone of his meaning was not lost on her. She understood him completely. He intended to have her in his bed, perhaps as soon as Charles did the dirty deed of consummating their marriage.
She ran her tongue over her lips, all the while knowing she was driving him crazy. “Charles frightens me,” she confessed as she put her hand to his cheek. She had worked hard to make her voice sound like a frightened child to heighten his curiosity about her.
“There is nothing for you to fear. Allow me to help you prepare for your bath. Once you are warmed and clean, you will feel differently.”
You bet I will, buster. I’m dying to see what’s beneath your kilt. If I’m lucky, you’ll take the damn thing off and join me in the tub. It certainly looks big enough for the two of us.
Before she could put voice to her thoughts, Gwain had closed the door behind them and was helping her out of her clothing.
“What are you doing?” she asked, acting shocked at his actions. In truth, she was completely aroused by him undressing her.
“Only what Charles wants me to do,” he replied. He continued unbuttoning the bodice of her blouse. Once he slipped the garment from her shoulders, he untied her undergarment. The feel of the cool air against her breasts being confined since the morning of her wedding was nothing compared to his strong hands caressing her nipples, sending shock waves of desire to her toes.
“Ohhhhhhhh...”she gasped.
“They are beautiful,” Gwain commented, his voice soft and sensual. “Ours is going to be a delightful relationship.”
At this moment, she didn’t care that she was technically a married woman and this was her brother-in-law. It had been so long since a man had loved her, and she wanted him to take her while her body burned with desire.
Rather than continue to turn her on with his touches and kisses, he removed her skirt and undergarments. “Your bath awaits, my lady,” he said, taking her hand in his and leading her toward the waiting tub.
She glanced at the tub and then to Gwain. “Will you join me, kind sir?”
“I see no reason not to. The tub is large enough for two and I would enjoy joining you. Once I do, I pray that you will allow me to wash your back.”
And my front and my pussy and anything else you want to wash.
Rather than respond verbally, she nodded her head in the hope of perpetuating the myth that she was nothing more than a young maiden.
He proceeded to take off his shirt, revealing a chest that resembled that of the bodybuilders she’d seen on TV, with a sprinkling of red hair accenting his highly sculptured pecks. The hair dwindled to a tantalizing line that trailed down to his kilt. Her hands itched to snatch off the length of plaid that hid his male attributes. Instead, she continued to play the part of demure maiden who merely watched as he disrobed.
She gasped with pleasure when his cock was fully revealed. He was indeed a young, virile man. She couldn’t help but notice the shaft that stood at attention, rising from its nest of red hair that hid his jewels within its curls.
Once she was in the tub, he slid in behind her, his cock butting up against her ass until she wanted nothing more than to sigh in delight and enjoy his attentions.
After working up a rich lather on the soft cloth, he reached around her and washed her entire body, paying particular attention to her woman’s soul hidden in the moist valley of her woman’s cleft. The manipulations of his soap-slick fingers brought her to the brink of orgasm. She shuddered against him and prayed he would never stop. To her disappointment, he removed his hand and began to scrub her back.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked.
In which life? If I can believe the dream I had, Davida is definitely not a virgin, but what if it was only a dream? “Ah...I don’t think so.”
“You don’t sound very certain. It makes no difference. We will know for certain tonight. If you are not, there are ways to fool my brother. For now, we must finish your bath, for the evening meal has been prepared and all of the clan are anxious to see you for the first time.”
Reluctantly, Davida allowed Gwain to help her get out of the tub. He stood before her, unashamed of his nakedness. As though he were a bath attendant, he dried her body before helping her to dress.
She was surprised to realize that the clothing he had laid out for her fit perfectly. The plaid he gave her was not the Brice plaid she’d worn since the day of her wedding, but that of the McGowen clan. The color suited her well, and even though she wanted nothing to do with Charles or his clan, she knew she would wear it proudly.
* * * *
Gwain led Davida into the great hall. The high table was set to accommodate four people. It was obvious that Charles and his friend Brian were expected to occupy the two chairs on the left end of the table, while the other two places were left open for him and Davida. If anyone thought that the arrangement was strange, no one mentioned it.
Gwain watched as Davida took a moment to study Charles’ appearance. He couldn’t fault her for the thoughts that were surely running rampant through her mind. Charles was certainly more handsome than he had appeared before. He not only cut his hair, but he had also trimmed his beard, something that he evidently had not done for many months prior to showing up to claim Davida as his wife. His clean-cut look was enhanced by the fact that Brian was obviously giving him pleasure beneath the table while he made conversation with those around him.
“Is that Charles?” Davida questioned, her mouth agape at the sight of the man who had claimed her as wife.
“Yes. He is a handsome man when he is well-groomed. It was his vow not to cut his hair or beard until he found you. You were promised to him on your naming day. When he returned to your father’s keep to claim you sixteen years later, David Brice was dead, and no one knew where you were. It has taken him these four years to find you.”
Davida looked at Charles, leaving Gwain to read her thoughts. Would she find her husband more appealing than the younger brother who would bed her as soon as the meal was finished? Gwain hoped not, but had he not always stood in the shadow of his older brother?
He stepped in front of her and held out his hand to help her step up to the high table. Once she was seated, Charles acknowledged her with a nod of his head before he returned his attention to Brian.
“It seems as though my husband is preoccupied,” she said as she put her hand on Gwain’s knee. With the confidence of a practiced prostitute, she slid it up until she was able to wrap her fingers around his cock. The act made him wonder if she was right about not being a virgin and if she was, why she seemed so apprehensive about the fact.
A growing heat made him wish that the dreaded supper was ended so that he could take her back to her bedchamber and have his way with the saucy wench that she appeared to be. If his brother was feeling half this good with Brian’s attention, it was no wonder he was smiling like a besotted fool.
* * * *
Davida stared at Charles in disbelief. With his beard neatly trimmed, his hair cut, and his body cleansed, he was every bit as handsome as Gwain. It was a shame this guy was gay. She could easily have fantasies about a threesome involving Charles and Gwain.
Brian was another story. The man gave her the creeps. He was so openly gay that he fit the outdated stereotype to a tee. It was evident that these people saw nothing strange about Brian and Charles’ relationship, so who was she to say anything? In the twenty-first century she’d learned to accept such relationships. She knew she could do no less considering her position.
Ahead of her, Gwain stood on the raised dais, his hand outstretched toward her. Without hesitation, she held out her own hand in response, and allowed him to help her up onto the platform that stood several inches above the floor and elevated them above the rest of the clan. As though oblivious to her state of mind, Gwain held out her chair, inviting her to take the seat next to Charles. Even though she would have been more comfortable further away from her husband, she graciously took the seat that was offered.
Out of courtesy she turned to acknowledge her husband, only to be snubbed by his curt response before he returned his attention to Brian. Not to be out-snubbed, she waited until Gwain sat down next to her. When he did, she slipped her hand under his kilt. She smiled when her fingers found first his knee and then moved higher until they not only touched, but also curled around his cock. It pleased her to find it was as thick as the trunk of the young maple tree in the front yard of her twenty-first century home.
This certainly beats anything Fred ever had. She could hardly believe the wicked thought that had just crossed her mind.
Beside her, Charles got to his feet. She wondered how he had managed to persuade Brian to loosen his grip, for it was evident that Brian was doing the same thing to Charles that she was doing to Gwain.
“As you can all see,” he declared, his voice echoing off the walls of the manor house, “my quest has ended. I have found the beautiful Davida, who was promised to me on her naming day. We were married at her uncle’s keep, but by mutual consent have decided not to consummate our union until we return home.”
Davida knew her eyes opened wide with shock. No one told me of this decision. This guy is a real fruitcake in more ways than one.
“Tonight we ask you to celebrate with us,” he continued as he held out his hand to help her to her feet.
Reluctantly, she let go of the part of Gwain’s body that she know would give her great pleasure. She forced a smile as Charles’ large hand circled her smaller one. Although his hand was calloused, his touch was not unpleasant. If he weren’t gay, he would have been the one to become her lover once the festivities were concluded. The thought was one that set her mind to spinning. What if this guy is really bisexual? If so, what if he wants a foursome. This could prove to be quite interesting.