For the next few weeks, our lives were pretty uneventful. Oh, now don't get me wrong. There were several times when Matthew's parents would be gone to dinner or late business meetings that we tried to take advantage of, only to have one of his parents shouting at the foot of the stairs at the worst possible time, but as a general whole, life was pretty calm. Pretty calm that is, until one evening right before Thanksgiving when Matthew's dad, Robert, came home from work grinning a 25-year-older version of Matthew's brilliant smile. "I have two of the greatest pieces of news I ever remember telling you!" He sat down at the kitchen table, almost shaking from excitement. "First and foremost, Alex, I believe I have found someone who might be able to help you with your voice! I don't want to get your hopes up too much until I , at least, talk to him, but it's looking hopeful. Second, and try to stay calm for this, our family will be going on a two week trip to Scotland!" At this we all sat stunned, almost in unbelief at what Robert had said. "What's that matter with you three?! Didn't you hear what I said? I've found something I think can help you talk again, and we're going on vacation!" "Robert, are you sure? I mean, the guys have school." Nadine sat looking gently at her husband, as though he hadn't thought of these details. "Yes, Nadine, I know that. We won't be going during school We'll be spending the holidays there!" Matthew's mother gasped. "Are you serious?," we all said in unison. "Yes! We're going to spend the holidays in Scotland!"
The next few weeks were extremely hectic. We all spent almost every free moment planning our trip. "Now, be sure and pack.....," "and don't forget when we go through security..." Indeed, the planning and preparing was so crazy that the day of our flight was looming before any of us truly realized it. The big day arrived, wilder and more hectic than even expected. This was my first time traveling outside of the state, so could hardly contain the shaking inside my body as we proceeded through airport security checks and screenings. Sensing my unease, Matthew took me by the hand and helf tight as we made our way through one airport after another. The almost-eight hour flight from the states to Scotland was turbulent, and seemed to weather one storm after another, but finally found us safely touching down in Glasgow before going on another almost three hour drive to our B&B in Fort William.
Never in my life had I seen such a beautiful place as Scotland. Loch Linnhe lay sleeping peacefully along the glen, seeming to disappear into the very base of the mountains surrounding it. Even in Winter, boats traveled the "Caledonian Canal," their captains and travelers waiving and shouting to people ashore. Ben Nevis towered above us, covered in snow and wispy clouds. The "braes and moors" throughout the "Great Glen" stood dotted with white stone cottages and sheep. Small white houses along the streets shown against the cold with candles in the windows and evergreens framing the windows and doors. Though the ground didn't stay covered for long, snow fell almost every day. It seemed like something from a storybook. It took a couple days exploring the narrow streets before being able to venture out without having to ask someone how to get back to our rooms. We spent one whole day skiing, and then Robert arranged for us all to take a trip south to Glen Coe, taking in the desolate beauty of the snowy white Rannoch Moor. Finally after four days together of skiing, touring, and shopping, Robert and Nadine decided to spend the day in, "to recooperate from keeping up with two teenagers." Neither Matthew or myself complained at this, for it gave us some much-desired time along.
Matthew and I set out down the cobbled street from our B&B to explore and see what we could find. Being "part of the Clan Robertson," Matthew was interested in finding some information about his family, and it didn't take long to find it. One of the first stores along the narrow street held a sign, "knitting mill," so we squeezed through the door and started making our way through mounds of plaids, kilts, and "woolens." After a short discussion with the portly lady attending the store, we found several shelves and tables laden with the crimson red laced with green and blue that was Clan Robertson. I couldn't help but smile at Matthew's enthusiasm. He reminded me of a small child. So, after taking in everything "related to the clan" he could find, we left the shop, Matthew being changed into a new kilt and kilt socks, that to me couldn't have been more of a turn-on, a scarf for both of us, and two new wool knitted sweaters apiece, braving the bitter highland wind and drizzle as we explored the town.
That evening we gathered together around a scrubbed wooden table in the low-ceiling dining room of the B&B to a hearty meal of roast venison with potatoes and parsnips, bread, and a hot plate of shortbread, "to ward off the driek and cold." So, feeling full, warm, and exhausted from almost five fulls days of traveling, we traipsed up the stairs to our rooms. We were all a bit taken back by the size of European "accommodations" when we arrived in Scotland. Originally planning for all of us to sleep in one room, Matthew and I were overjoyed when we wound up sleeping in a room at the other end of the second story hall. Closing the door, Matthew turned to me, smiling mischeiviously. I couldn't help but to smile back, reaching for my ever-present note pad. "So, my wee highlander, I can't help but remember that old joke about Scotsmen and their kilts. Is it true about 'nothing under it?' I'd like to find out." Matthew laughed and shook his head. "I think I've been a bad influence on you. You're not the shy little guy I used to know,but if you're really wanting to know, why not see for yourself?"
I crossed the floor, shaking slightly. Even after being together for several months now, I still lost control around him! Matthew didn't give me time to reach for his kilt belt, or to even reach for a kiss. He grabbed my hands and pulled me roughly into his muscular arms. The whole situation made me a little lightheaded, standing there in his arms, in a storybook setting in Scotland, the sight of him in that kilt, his muscles bulging against his knitted sweater, those blue eyes staring down at me. I started tracing his muscles through the rough texture of the wool sweater, and began tugging at the hem. He relented his hold long enough for me to lift the sweater from his body and over his head, and then crushed his lips onto mine. He needed this as much as I did. I pulled loose, much to his discontent, and began fumbling with the buckles of his kilt belts that held the kilt around his waist. Finally the wool fell to the floor, and I stood back in awe. Matthew stood before me, completely naked except for his socks. He pulled me closer and began tearing at my clothes, finally ripping the t-shirt in half from my body, and we fell onto the bed.
I began my journey over Matthew's body, touching, feeling, kissing and sucking. Slowly I made my way from one nipple to the other, kissing, sucking, and massaging, feeling his chest rise and fall below me. Working my way down his abs, I let my hands trace down the trail of hairs from his bellybutton to his groin. He groaned appreciatively. Finally finding his dick, I took his tip into my mouth and began loving his member. I began building up a rhythm, up and down, up and down. Matthew groaned and squirmed. I took special care to caress and love each ball, and the smooth sack. Matthew pulled me up, allowing his hands to roam and feel as he pulled me, finally bringing our mouths together in passion. Even though my voice was gone, Matthew understood perfectly my every thought and desire. The look on my face told him that I wanted him, and as he sat up on the bed, he gathered me in his arms, rising, and laying me back down and began lifting my legs to his shoulders. Knowing what to expect, it took a great deal less time to loosen up and take Matthew inside me. He began a slow, steady rhythm in and out. We continued on, our breathing hitched and became short, sometimes coming in nothing but gasps. I couldn't help but think back to our first time of making love together. Gone was the pain I'd felt that first night. Now we felt nothing but pure pleasure. As Matthew continued in and out, I made a point of locking eyes with him. If there was anything I could show him, I wanted him to see the love in my eyes. How could I not love this wonderful, loving guy? Since appearing out of the black of unconsciousness on that late Summer evening in the hospital, Matthew had become my world. He was everything I needed and wanted, and I desperately needed him to see that. And see it he did. As we looked into each other's eyes, I felt Matthew give a great gasp and explode into me. As he blearily looked into my eyes, a smile appeared, and he wispered, "I know, I love you too."