Wynne's Surprise on Amazon
Wynne's Surprise on ARe
Anyways, give my lovers are very and rather proudly Scottish. I've done a brief glossary to help:
Boaby - male member (look at me being all demure!)
Box - head
Canny - cannot Modern Scots (18th Century/ Robert Burns gen is 'canna')
Get tae fuck - (I lasted half a page, well done me!) get out of it!
Maw - mother
Nae - not
Nip - a sip, or knowing a Scot, half a glass...
Tatties - potatoes
Weegie - a person hailing from Glasgow - the maddest of the bunch.
And if that's not enough to get you going, have a wee nip of this:
Let This Moose Loose Aboot This Hoose!
She
woke up with a jolt, tucked between the velvet softness of her sofa and the
dense muscles of Bren’s chest. He stirred above her head.
“Are
you okay?”
“I
had the weirdest dream.”
“About?”
he asked on a yawn.
“I
had three tits and you were fondling all of them.”
Bren
burst out laughing. “Why on earth would you dream about that?”
“I
don’t even know.” She lifted her head and squinted at the clock. Midnight.
“Some
nap,” Bren yawned again, untangling his arms from her body to stand up. He
looked adorably rumpled. “Shall I get us some tea?”
“Aye,
and maybe a snack or something.”
“Yes,
madam,” he sarked in a Queen’s English tone, strolling into the kitchen and
leaving Wynne to sit up. The sensation of oddness hadn’t abated with the nap,
and the strange dream only compounded matters. Who needed three breasts? The
overwhelming emotion that came from the dream was how much she’d enjoyed Bren’s
manipulations.
She
noticed her phone on the table by the lamp. Masochism forced her to her feet
and to pick up the mobile. While Bren made tea in the background, Wynne stared
at the screen. Okay, maybe she’d crossed a few lines, perhaps a page or a
notebook of lines, or rather they both had, but at least they hadn’t crossed it
all the way. Six missed calls from Robert, seared her with guilt.
Discomfort
forced her to read the text messages he’d sent:
I’m sorry about today. Can you call
me?
Wynne, it’s Valentine’s Day. Why
won’t you answer?
Have you gone out?
You’re being really disrespectful.
“Tea,”
Bren said and Wynne jumped in fright. She whipped around and saw him holding
two mugs, an eyebrow curled. “I did tell you I was making it.”
“Of
course you did. Sorry. I’m sorry.” She repeated the apology before taking the
mug into her hands. Bren glanced down at her phone.
“Robbie?”
She
hesitated. Bren took the tea and nodded her in the direction of her bedroom.
“Go and call him.”
Wynne
blinked, leaning away from him. “What?”
“Call
him and tell him you’re going on a break. You’ll be back in a week, and you can
talk then. If you want to.”
Word
for word exactly what she wanted to say to Robert. Clearly, Bren was a better
friend to her than to Robert. “Okay. I’ll be a few minutes.”
She
scampered to her bedroom and gently closed the door behind her, resting against
the wood for some semblance of reality to lock her to the ground.
That
line she’d crossed with Bren a few hours ago seemed more and more blurred.
Technically, not calling your girlfriend on Valentine’s Day until after she
agreed to a holiday with her male friend she had intense sexual feelings for,
could be considered as a breakup. Right?
So are we ready, steady, Eddie? Let's get surprising!
