September 16, 2025 • 7 mins
A struggling writer seeks inspiration in the rugged beauty of the Scottish Highlands—and finds more than she expected in Isla, her strong, sensual B&B host. A single stormy night leads to passionate exploration, awakening something raw, tender, and utterly unforgettable.
Episodes released every Tuesday and Thursday!
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Episodes released every Tuesday and Thursday!
Podcast
Patreon
Website
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:05):
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
(00:26):
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
(00:46):
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
(01:07):
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.
(01:27):
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
(01:47):
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.
(02:09):
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.
(02:33):
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
(02:56):
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
(03:16):
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,
(03:37):
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
(04:00):
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?
(04:23):
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
(04:44):
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
(05:05):
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
(05:28):
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.
(05:49):
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
(06:11):
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,
(06:34):
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,
(06:56):
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,
(07:18):
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.
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
(00:26):
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
(00:46):
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
(01:07):
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.
(01:27):
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
(01:47):
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.
(02:09):
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.
(02:33):
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
(02:56):
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
(03:16):
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,
(03:37):
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
(04:00):
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?
(04:23):
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
(04:44):
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
(05:05):
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
(05:28):
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.
(05:49):
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
(06:11):
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,
(06:34):
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,
(06:56):
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,
(07:18):
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.
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