Your erotic stories

The last habitable cottage before you come to the lighthouse at Ardnamurchan, the most westerly point on the Scottish mainland if not the whole of the ancient island of Britain, used to nestle to the southern side of an old, square tower. This tower may have once been a fortified block-house, such as one sees throughout the wilder parts of Scotland, where clan once fought against clan down through the years, until King fought against King for the final time and there were no more clans.

read more

The room is getting darker. Out of the window I can see wooded hills on the eastern horizon, catching the last orange tinge of daylight, as the sun sets behind us. On the table by the bed there is a candle and a tinderbox. I strike a spark with some difficulty, as if the air is damp, and nurture a little fire to light the candle. The illumination it gives is meagre and yellow, serving only to heighten the shadows in the room, rather than dispel them. I rise and cross to the window.

read more