CHAPTER TWO
Chapter Two
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Twelve years later, the castle was completed and the village filled with bustling people. Carts of food being sold along the streets. Cats and dogs running about seeking any droppings that they could find. All and all, quite a happy sight as young Robert walked through the village heading for the forest where the gypsies had just returned��. 
Robert knew that they came every year, like clockwork. Sure enough, Ian was waiting there in the clearing as the gypsies were unpacking the wagons and preparing the campsite.
Robert ran the last few yards and leaped into his friend's arms. "Your back. I knew you'd be back."
"Aren't I always," Ian hugged the lad. "My, my �. You've grown another foot."
They sat by the fire until dark, comparing notes, Robert wanting details of all of Ian's exciting travels. He wanted to grow up and be just like Ian, a free spirit, traveling all over Scotland.
Andrew knew Robert would be late getting home that night. He had seen the smoke from the gypsy camp and he knew that Robert, for some strange reason, had become extremely attached to this man. No matter how hard Andrew tried to excite the lad with his potential future as the Laird of MacLaaran, Robert's mind always seemed more interested in traveling, like his idol, Ian. Hopefully, the lad would grow out of it eventually.
Andrew had hoped his son would be more like him, fair haired as a child with blue eyes, but Robert was born with those dark black curls and dark brown eyes. He must have had more of his mother's genes.
His thoughts were interrupted as Angela entered the study saying, "Well, we won't see much of Robert for the next month. I see the gypsies are back."
"Aye, he certainly loves Ian. Sometimes I get a tad jealous over how close they've become. I just hope when he grows up he'll take more after his father."
Angela never answered, instead going over to the window and staring off at where the smoke was now billowing up through the trees. She felt that hunger in her loins again, just like always when Ian returned.
Her mind wandered back to that first time with Ian. The sudden wild hunger in her belly after she drank that delicious wine with Andrew. She had simply walked around the table and crawled up on Andrew's lap. Then after suckling her breast, his head had slumped and he began snoring.
She stepped away, totally frustrated, turning to find the grinning handsome gypsy leader standing shirtless in the doorway. Ian simply lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. Any thought of resistance melted away in the hands of this talented lover. She knew he would soon have his way with her.
She stared, transfixed with eroticism as he laid her down on her husband's bed, removed his remaining clothing, his manhood standing proudly erect. He hovered over her as he bared her bosom, licking each sensitive nipple drawing out her whimpers and gasps.
Ian extended his arms, locked his elbows to give her full view as he guided his penis, letting her watch it as he laid it flat on her belly, drawing it slowly down, leaving a little trail of clear fluid as the head moved towards its target.
She reveled in the nerve rending sensations as it disappeared through her pubic hair, nudging her clitoris, coaxing the folds of her wet vagina apart. She felt him probing downward and inward, seeking the point of entry, raw flesh savoring raw flesh.
She was very wet. Penetration was precise, swift, painless, and absolute bliss as she opened to accommodate him. She felt his urgency, and knew there would be no waiting.
He started to ride her with long deliberate strokes, the rim of that magnificent head rippling the walls of her vagina as it loosened her more with each mind-bending thrust. Her legs lifted and locked around him and she clawed at his back. The sensation was indescribable. She was almost swooning as, screaming softly, she came for the first time that night with a shattering wrench to her insides.
But there was to be no respite for her. He was lost in his own world of passion, driven by the demands of his body. Spurred on by the inbuilt urge that was the basis for procreation. The natural instinct of the male to fertilize the egg of the female.
Ian fucked Angela beautifully, like the expert he was. His penis performing like a piece of precisely engineered and well oiled machinery. Fucking her relentlessly. Thrusting deeply and quickly one minute, slowly and tantalizingly the next.
Then a change of stroke as he lifted himself, driving angularly downward into her, deliberately rubbing his shaft against her tingling clitoris, making her gurgle in ecstasy. Oh the magic of it.
Then a momentary pause. He withdrew, his shaft poised above her, glistening with the juices of their coupling. He quickly unwrapped her legs, rolled her over face down, the pillow now under her tummy, pushing her bum into the air, exposing her totally for renewed attack.
Then he was into her again, the angle perfect for deep penetration as he renewed the glorious invasion of her body, heightening their ecstasy, riding beautifully, one hand wrapped around her teasing a nipple, the other massaging her clitoris as he probed her insides.
Angela's whole being shrieked with the joy of it. She came again in a shattering series of explosions from within.
Then she was on her back again, her legs splayed, partially spent from orgasm, but desperate to keep him inside her.
She wanted it to go on forever, but she sensed the end was near as his movements became more urgent, his breathing becoming labored, his body tensing with approaching orgasm. He clutch her shoulders, pulling downward, locking himself deeply inside, the head of his pulsating shaft hard against her cervix.
Driven by the need to implant his seed, unleash his sperm to fulfill the role for which it was destined. He wanted to flood her with millions of little swimmers, each with a singular mission, to penetrate her womb, find the waiting ovum, then attack it to start the cycle of life.
He began his final strokes, shorter now and with clear intent, keeping his swollen head close to the neck of her womb for the impending ejaculation. His whole body tightened around her.
She felt the muscular contractions begin deep down within him as he began to pump, forcing the semen from his sperm sacs, up through the beautiful shaft embedded in her vagina, to erupt like molten lava at the neck of her womb, filling her, flooding her with torrents of hot, life-giving cream, unleashing the millions of little tadpoles on their mission of impregnation.
Angela shook all over as she came for the third time that night and her husband snored away in the adjoining room. No wonder the gypsy women adored this fantastic man.
It was over. She lay there beneath him in the dying throes of his passion, her mind struggling to accept what had happened to her as he continued to hold himself tightly inside her, as if trying to cork his sperm within her womb.
Later, when they could both breath again, Ian carried Andrew back and they undressed him and placed him in the bed. "He'll remember nothing, Angela," Ian said before he kissed her goodnight and disappeared.
Her mind snapped back to the present and she wondered if they might have a moment alone this year? In spite of the risks, they had always found ways for some time alone, but it was growing harder as Robert grew older.
She would have to arrange for a picnic in the forest by the lake, an event that Andrew always found some reason to skip. Andrew was not a lover of the woods and hated all those bugs near his food.
She decided she would take her servant girl, Ellie, along. Ellie could join Robert swimming before lunch, while Angela showed Ian a cave she had found near the lake. Yes, that would work. This time she would not let Ian use the sheepskin. Angela wanted a daughter in the worst way and she knew Ian brought out the best in her.
It was very late when Robert finally returned that night. He had spent the evening sitting by the campfires at Ian's side. The gypsy girls were dancing around the fires, pleasing the men by lifting their skirts as their naked legs flashed. They always spent extra time in front of Ian, and Robert had to cover himself to hide his reaction when they bent over to show Ian a breast or two.
When he finally got home, his parents were in bed and only Ellie was up waiting to let him in and lock up. She was dancing in a pretty lavender gown, humming to herself since there were no musicians playing. He froze, staring at her. He blushed as he felt that same tingling in his loins he had felt while watching the gypsy girls dancing earlier around the camp fires ��.. 
Ellie stopped dancing and stared back at the young boy. Her eyes lowered to the obvious lump in his trousers, then she quickly regained control. "I'll turn down your bed while you get undressed," she almost whispered as she led the way to his room.
He couldn't take his eyes off her as he followed her. Suddenly, Ellie was no longer the young girl that had served him all through his youth. She was a woman now, much like the wild gypsy girls he had often seen taking their boyfriends off into the woods.
Robert knew what they did. He had even experimented a bit alone. But, until this evening, he never thought of Ellie as a woman. She was at least four years older than him and he suddenly wondered if she had a boyfriend. Did they slip off somewhere alone and ------- do it?
He followed her to the bed, standing still right behind her as she turned down the blankets and sheets. When she turned back around they were face to face, his eyes locked on hers. She knew this was wrong, but she felt her blood pounding through her veins. She broke eye contact, looking down ashamed of her thoughts ----- and saw that the lump in his pants had grown. He obviously wanted her.
Robert reached over and gradually drew her gown down off one shoulder. Ellie didn't object�� 
Their first kiss was soft. Her mouth opened and then they were on the bed, exploring each other. The lad's first true experience with a woman. She was warm inside and he was soon lost in ecstasy. As they lay there afterwards, he remembered what Ian had said about leaving his seed in their belly. Tomorrow he would ask Ian about the sheepskins.
To be continued