Hey, foxy friends.

This year you'll come with us to every European country, where we explore the sexual adventures of each nation and one of its regions.

Shetland Island's United Kingdom.

I was sitting in the grass near the edge of the cliff, close enough to feel the thrill, but not so close.

It was dangerous heights.

It always made me uneasy, but something about this magical place called to me.

I'd come here searching for inspiration for my new book, and it felt like a crime not to get as close to the raw beauty as I could.

The contract with the publishing house had been signed long ago.

All that was left was the writing, but that proved harder than expected.

After the success of my previous series, starting Fresh was daunting, creating new characters, new lives, hoping readers would fall in love all over again.

It weighed on me, but I hadn't given up.

Back in London, I was blocked.

Coming to the islands seemed like the right move, and it was walking through these landscapes made my fancy world feel more real.

There was something indescribable about Scotland, something ancient, powerful.

The grand jeur of it all was intimidating.

The weather was unforgiving, yet strangely invigorating.

I assume people shaped by this land would be similarly harsh, but I was wrong.

Everyone I met on the mainland was warm, generous, and open hearted.

One of those peoples was Isla, the host M B and B.

She be the embodiment of the highlands.

Tall, strong, with wide hips and arms that looked like they could carry the weight of the world.

Her hair was already streaked with gray.

She was only ten years my senior, but her beauty shone and dimmed.

Her smile bright and disarming.

I knew I wanted to base a character on her.

I just hadn't figured out how to ask.

I kept drotting notes until I noticed the sky turning dark.

The rain was coming.

With a reluctant sigh, I packed my blanket and notebook and made my way back toward the cottage.

The house Isla owned was straight out of a fairy tale, small brick walled with a green roof and wooden window frames.

At first, I'd hesitated to book a place where i'd have to share space with the host.

I'd worried about interruptions, but something about the cottage tugged at me, and once I arrived, I knew I'd made the right choice.

It was everything I'd hope for.

Isla was the cherry on top.

She loved to talk, and I loved to listen, especially when she was speaking of local lenginds and folklore.

Just as I reached the front door, the rain began to fall in earnest I rushed inside, shaking off the cold.

The smell of something delicious hit me immediately.

Isla was cooking again.

She greeted me with a smile and offered me a seat.

Soon a bowl of stew was in front of me, warm and comforting.

We ate together as a storm outside intensified, and I confessed that the book still wasn't coming together.

Isla offered encouragement.

Wheezing my hand, she told me she'd help however she could.

Lightning flashed, the power cut out.

The cottage went dark except for the flickering fireplace.

Izla cursed softly, apologizing there was nothing to be done until morning.

She suggested we sleep in the living room, close to the fire preserve the warmth.

I didn't mind.

It felt like an intimate adventure.

I brought my bedding down and we both nestled close under thick blankets, our bodies brushing.

I smiled as I touched her arm, telling her she felt like just what I imagined, warm, soft, real is little laughed or voice teasing.

There was something more in her tone, something promising.

What do you usually do when the power goes out like this?

I asked?

She listed the usual reading tea and then, with a deliberate pause, masturbating the word, hung in the air like a dare.

I brought myself up on one elbow and met her eyes.

Wanted to do something from the list, I asked, my voice low, Maybe I could help.

She sat up slowly.

The firelight painted shadows on her face as we stared at each other breathless.

Then we moved.

Our lips met, hungry, urgent.

Her kiss was as fierce as the highlands themselves.

She pushed me onto my back, our tongues tank heat building between us faster than the crackling fire.

She pulled off my shirt and took my breast into her mouth, sucking until I whimpered.

My hand slipped into her pajama pants, finding her already wet, slick and hot beneath my fingers.

Fire wasn't just in the hearth, It burned between us.

Is La moaned as I rubbed her clit, her hips bucking against my hand.

I could feel the tension in her, the rise of pleasure that made her body tremble.

I kissed her face, held it through it, watching her unravel in my arms.

I hadn't even been touched yet, but it didn't matter.

I was intoxicated by her pleasure.

When she came, it was a moment suspended in time.

She collapsed onto me, breath ragged.

I could feel my own desire aching and pulsing between my legs, but I didn't speak of it.

I just smiled.

Then Izla kissed me deeper this time, and murmur that she had something for me.

She left briefly and returned, with her pale skin glowing and her body fully exposed except for one detail, a black leather harness and a pink dil do strap tight to her hips.

I bit my lip and lay back, legs open, graving her, no teasing.

I said, just take me.

She laughed, wicked and soft, exactly how I want you.

Isla climbed on top, spread my thighs and slowly slid the toy among my folds, teasing me until I whimpered, and then she pushed inside me.

I gasped, gripping her shoulders as she began to fuck me hard and deep.

Every thrust hit something raw and perfect inside me.

The sounds of the storm outside were nothing compared to the cries she pulled from my lips.

She wasn't making love to me.

She was claiming me, and I wanted her to the wet sound of this toy thrusting into me, the slap of my skin, my moans, it was all primal, It was wild.

I clung to her as I shattered, my orgasm crushing through me like the storm outside.

When I could finally breathe again, I looked up at her, dazed.

I think I'm inspired now, I whispered, Is A left kissing me again?

Good?

Because I planned to keep on inspiring you.

Thanks for listening, Foxy friends, don't forget to rate, review and subscribe, and continue to come with us.