A Hill Runner And A Hill Walker Ch 02

Only a couple of Dialect words this chapter which you may know anyway:

Tory = This is the common name for a member of the Conservative party, in general they are not popular in Scotland, traditionally a more liberal country. This is tangentially relevant to the story.

Skivvy = servant, cleaner or dogs body.

'A wee dram' = an offer of whisky which is served neat or with a little water — never with ice unless you are a tourist and not expected to know any better. (Google why chill filtration is not used in good malts if you want to know why no ice.)

If you haven't already please read the first chapter as there are many references to events which occurred in it.

Please keep the comments coming.

*****

Chapter 2 - coming together

A persistent rain started that morning and so it seemed the right time to do a number of jobs inside the house. Carol had mentioned the built in wardrobe doors in her room no longer closed properly so I decided to attend to that first, despite her protestations that it was not important. Carol had driven over to Fort William to buy some things and visit the book shops.

I collected basic tools and entered her room. Though she'd been staying a while now there were few possessions on display - MacBook, two crystal holders capable of holding single flower stems, a bit of lace on the dressing table, a church candle along with a few cosmetics. A large rug and some weights were in one corner. Hanging on the wall was a large brightly coloured embroidery of a mountainous region I took to be in Pakistan.

Her built-in wardrobe reflected her personality too — extremely organised. I adjusted the hinges on one door to fix the problem. My thoughts drifted to when I'd first shown her this room as I worked. It was after our walk over to Loch Hichy that Carol had returned with me to the house.

Carol was by no means the first to be given the tour of the house I had been working on for more than 2 years. It was different that day because I had impulsively changed my mind deciding she could have this room in order to continue training for her hill running events if that was what she decided. I started by explaining to her the history of the house. 'The Stone Masons' had originally been three very small cottages built by stone masons whilst working on the clan lord's castle and estate. The cottages changed hands many times and then fell into disuse after the second world war. Ten years ago someone had bought all three, knocked them together into one and achieved some progress towards making one spacious house. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately if I wished to be selfish about it, he then ran out of money and the house lay empty again. I had bought the house from the bank for a small sum but then had to pay for the major work still needing done, like the roof, heating and electrics. I always liked working with wood. The interior door detail, architrave, stairs, open beams, floors, were all my work. Much of the plastering and painting were too. Living myself I had not been rushing these tasks and now considered the house interior around 90% finished.

I learnt another thing about Carol during the tour that I liked. She was neither silent or one who spoke in gushes of compliments and gasps of delight as some have a tendency to do, especially women. However when she did admire something, you felt it 100% genuine. I especially enjoying seeing her use her tactile senses, running her fingers along some of my woodwork.

The extended house had three very large bedrooms upstairs where I took her first explaining this was probably the most relevant place to start. Carol appreciated how light and airy the room was and the large modern en-suite shower and toilet. I'd had to argue with the planning and conservation folk to get the big Dorma triple-glazed windows in the roof. The tiny wee windows in the wall had left the room dark. I was a believer in historic conservation, but also thought living in the dark was unreasonable. The small windows did one job well, providing a spectacular framed view of the moor and hill in the background.

Carol danced round all the large room looking at the walk-in shower, the wardrobe, out the window, a huge grin on her face.

"This is wonderful...fantastic... I've never seen such a perfect room. I could exercise here too."

Then her face became sad.

"Its wonderful, but I can't afford a room like this, it'd be way too much."

I looked at her, "There is no cost."

My comment perhaps came out wrong, and she looked suspiciously at me.

"No cost? What would I have to do then to stay here?"

I was offended by her suspicion and it took willpower not to fire off a sarcastic retort. I then put myself in her place. Wouldn't I be suspicious if some older man coming along offering luxury accommodation and then saying he does not want any money?

"Carol, what I meant was that having never rented out a room in my life, and not having thought seriously about doing it till a couple of hours ago I have no price set, no rules or conditions. Just for the avoidance of doubt, any 'personal services' required from you are limited to a little help with the cooking and cleaning."

Carol's face reddened a bit, I had embarrassed her again — but she deserved it partly this time. Then she gave a small smile at the remark and I saw her shoulders sink a little as she relaxed.

I continued, "As J&J are leaving so soon then if you decide it's worth a try sharing with a moody old man come and stay for a fortnight free of charge. After that, pay me what you want. I do get bored with my own cooking so I'd like if you cooked occasionally and just helping out a little round the place would also be good."

Then I worried it sounded like I wanted her to be some sort of skivvy. I quickly continued. "I'm not trying to recruit a housekeeper or servant. I'm offering the room so you can train and if you need to do that 24/7 that's ok with me. It's your training that's important."

Carol's full on smile returned and she surprised me by quickly closing the space between us and hugging me tight, pressing all her body against me. I felt her firm breasts against my chest, and lower down our bodies pressing too. This worked much better than a handshake in sealing the deal, which I assumed was what the hug was about. Since my divorce I think I'd been a bit distant with others, particularly women. Consequently the times I had sex were few indeed, and none of that in the last few months. So contact with this young fiery girl felt exceptionally good. I brought my arms round her and pressed her gently towards me, then let go before it might appear inappropriate. The moment passed and we went downstairs for the rest of the tour. She liked it all, the logic of the boot room as you came in, the big modern kitchen are, the quiet area and the main sitting area.

Carol then revealed another key part of who she was. Deciding she wanted the room she immediately created the plan to achieve the move in the shortest time possible, just as if planning a race. Carol explained the plan in a rapidly spoken multitude of short phrases all beginning with the word 'then'.

After leaving 'my new place',

then

Carol would tell J&J immediately,

then

collect her car from the garage where it had just been repaired,

then

she'd pack, and bring her stuff around by mid morning tomorrow — if that was ok of course?

Then

, she'd ensure those who needed her address were given it,

then

in the evening she's cook a meal for us to thank me. Oh, and run in the afternoon of course, she only had a few days before the big race at Creag Dhubh.

Her zest made me feel good. I thought of offering a 'wee dram', but it was still only mid-afternoon so I suggested tea instead, which Carol accepted. The thought of whisky then triggered some crazy thoughts. She was young, and of Pakistani background — did she drink? Wear a hijab when she wasn't on the hills? Where was the nearest mosque? Would we have to buy halal meat? Could Scott's, the butchers even get halal? What would her family think to her moving in with some single older man — might they come to the house to forcibly object?

The investment bank in London where I had worked was like a mini United Nations with dozens of nationalities working there, literally, and I never had a problem with that. We Scots never have had the same racial hang-ups of some of our sassenach, Tory, Brexiting cousins down south. On the other hand I had never shared a house with a young Pakistani woman either. I was then ashamed of my thoughts. I always said I believed in judging a person by their actions not colour, religion, appearance or sex. So why the hang-ups now? She was a beautiful young strong woman.

----------

I finished the simple job on the wardrobe and then went to do some work on the frame and architrave over the back door. This was a longer job and I was just finishing a stage towards final completion when Carol entered at her usual rapid pace, coming straight up to me and grinding chest and crotch firmly into me as we kissed. This had become her standard greeting when in private, and occasionally not so private places. She knew exactly how much I loved her doing this. I think Carol got a thrill from the wantonness, and the affirmation of her own attractiveness in the reaction it provoked in me.

"Miss me?" She asked.

"Oh, did you go somewhere, lass?"

Carol pouted, "Well, if my man does'ne notice whether I'm there or nay I'd better go down The Retreat and see if I can find a boy who will notice and can take care of all my needs."

The word 'needs' was followed by a dramatic fluttering of her long natural eyelashes.

"I thought all the boys there were 'clingy and needy'?" I retorted.

"I can live in hope, can I nae?"

The exaggerated accent was deliberate, and the banter was all references to another conversation we'd had some weeks ago that changed our relationship and my life.

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After Carol moved in I made sure to give her the freedom I promised. Yet I did find this frustrating. You would think living in a house together in a small village and both of us wanting to be outdoors as much as possible we would quickly become close. In practice it wasn't that simple. We had meals together in the evening most days and sometimes a coffee or lunch. Carol was often out before I was up in the morning and was occupied most of the day in the good weather. The following week after moving in she was away a few days for the Creag Dhubh race, one of the important ones on the Scot's calendar. Carol came 8th and wasn't happy. It gained her crucial points but not the number she had hoped for. We talked about the hill running scene in Scotland and how she would love to run internationally. I told her about the village, some of the main characters in it, and about the work I had done and was still to do on the house.

I thought about our relationship quite a lot during this period. You could not call us close, but then that raised the question, what was it I wanted from Carol? How close could I expect to come ever to this woman? I didn't know. I thought we should somehow be closer than we were, but was not sure what to do about it. I was well aware that she was young, fit, and literally turned the boys' heads down at 'The Retreat'.

Yes, I found that I needn't have worried, she did occasionally drink alcohol, no she had not worn a hijab since the days of her teenage rebellion and her favourite meal was Aberdeen Angus roast beef, so no we didn't have to place any orders for Halal meet.

We were having hot weather, for Scotland, and one thing that changed was that Carol was wearing less. She ran in a sports bra and very short running shorts. Increasingly at home she would relax in her running shorts, often just replacing the sports bra with bra and v-necked tee shirt, which served to show off her firm breasts. That was more than fine with me. This moved up a further notch when she started missing off the bra when not planning leaving the house again after her training. Not only did her tits move enticingly but I got my first indication at just how large her nipples were especially if we went into the garden. There seemed many occasions when she bent down in my presence — serving food — exercising in the garden. Although the sight was one I enjoyed greatly it did cause me embarrassment and worry as well. Worried that she would see the effect she was having on my prick, see me as a dirty older man and leave in a storm. I assumed that after being at Uni and sharing a flat she had been exposed to some sexual activity but had no idea whether she was a virgin. Anyway, I told myself sternly, the only reason that was relevant was whether my hard cock making a bulge in my trousers might cause an upset or not. I wasn't willing to give her a lecture on dressing more modestly - that was for sure.

I was concerned she appeared lonely without any real friends in the village. I had suggested on several occasions she should involve herself in some of the social activities around. The funniest time when I started to tell her about a church social then realised what I was doing and stopped after the first word or two. She had started the occasional evening meets with a couple of the local girls but these were infrequent. Some weeks passed like this.

The evening that changed everything started the same way as had previous.

"Carol, you know they'd love to see you in The Retreat. Single girls are safe there, and there is always either Shonagh or Sally behind the bar. There's lots going on - pub quizzes, dominoes, darts, pool, fishing and hunting trips planned, even a girls football team. They're a friendly lot. You never know, you might find yourself a nice boyfriend too."

Carol paused a second in what she was doing, then seemed to come to a decision, She stood and turned to me, it was almost as if she was deliberately waggling her unbound tits at me, nipples pressing the fabric out of shape. A small smile appeared on her face of a type I had not seen before.

"The problem with boys is that they are so

clingy and needy,

" Carol replied, small somewhat hardcore smile on her face, sexy as hell, my prick told me.

"Well, there are girls to choose from too," I quipped though I had no reason to suspect that was her preferred choice.

Staring intently at me Carol continued, "Well,

you

know what it is boys want. The problem is once you have given it them they feel it's their right to demand it whenever suits them. They want you to drop everything and run to them just because they have time off, just so they can party and

fuck

you."

Carol said the 'F' word with emphasis and clarity. Up to that point we had never talked about sex. The closest was a funny incident regarding underwear when Carol had sought to embarrass me about ever since. I was aware my prick was getting harder, but there was nowhere to hide and I couldn't exactly duck away in the middle of a conversation.

"Oh." I said with as much meaning as one can get into a two letter word.

Carol continued, "They think their job is the important one, and my running is just playing about, so can't understand why I can't come whenever they whistle. They have no idea my training takes up the same time as any two of their pathetic jobs and I take my work seriously unlike most of them."

Carol took a deep breath, then continued with rising anger, "I thought if I dated fellow athletes they'd understand. They said they did, that they knew how important training was. But they were just the damn same. The training that was important was theirs - and not mine. In their eyes it was still mine which could be sacrificed to fit the spaces in the their training programme's scheduled free time."

Carol pulled on her t-shirt tightening it across her tits before dropping the next bit of information into the conversation, staring even more intently at me.

"I've had to rely on my little electric friend for all of my pleasure since I arrived in Ben Dronach."

At this point she let her hand slip down her front and to the parting of her legs, just in case I could have misunderstood the point. My previous life could not be called sheltered, but one on one I was not used to women I didn't know well talking about vibrators and masturbation. Where was this conversation going?

Carol twisted a little, wobbling her tits, surely that must be deliberate?

"I thought of a solution, my bill for batteries being so large and all. Only problem being the man that I thought might satisfy me, did not seem interested. He was nice and all that, but didn't make a move. Not even when I stopped wearing a bra and waggled my titties in his face. I could see he liked me fine because of what else I was seeing. So I decided just this minute more radical action was required."

Carol finished speaking whilst staring at my crotch. She stepped a pace towards me and pulled her shirt up and over her head exposing her beautiful breasts shaking into the light. The breasts were firm and seemed to come out more sharply than I was used to. The firm breasts ending in dark, large areola, with fat dark nipples protruding from the centre. She stood tall and proud staring at me. My cock painfully pressed against my trousers. I wondered very briefly, whether this was right. Was I taking advantage somehow? I am only human though, so instructed myself sternly that Carol was an educated, experienced woman, not some teenager. It was her that was waggling her sumptuous tits in my face and not me exposing myself to her. Any thoughts of hesitation were gone, except for one key detail.

Carol spoke first, "So, no boys for me, I want a man. A man that will satisfy me and I promise to satisfy him. I have only one condition, this lasts as long as the man don't become needy. So, Andy, have you guessed yet who the man is that I want tonight instead of my toys? Do you promise not to become needy and clingy?"

"Yes, to all three questions my beautiful, sexy, lodger. You are truly beautiful. I only thought I'd ever have you in my dreams. There's nothing I would like more than to make love to you."

I opened my arms and she moved into my body, pressing tight.

Then I got to the point which I thought may ruin it all.

"I'm sorry though, I don't have condoms, I've not needed them in a while you see."

I was so scared this would kill the opportunity for good. Tomorrow she would find someone else to satisfy her, and probably move in with him.

Carol was not phased at all and said very matter-of-factly, "I'm on the pill and from what you've told me I'm willing to take the chance you're clean. I know I am. I had myself checked out after the last short relationship ended in Aberdeen. Ever since I saw your fire, I have wanted to fuck in front of it."

We walked to the fire hand in hand. I grabbed a large cushion I thought might be useful on the way there, and let it drop on the rug on our arrival. Still standing I wrapped my arms around her and we kissed, a long sensual kiss, with a bit of tongue but not aggressive intrusion. She ground against my trousers and then stepped back a little. I looked down studying those lovely firm breasts.

"You like?" She asked bringing her hands up and underneath her breasts to jiggle them briefly. Her confidence was wonderful and arousing. I loved it!

"I think it's time to see this big cock of yours, I've been thinking about it for days."

Carol dropped down to her knees undid my trousers and pulled both trousers and briefs down in one. My previously constrained hard cock bobbed about in its freedom and Carol kissed the side and lightly touched it with both hands.