The Highland Fling

by Meghan Quinn

Kilty McGrumpyshire.

xD

That Scottish accent purrs in my ears, makes me weak in the knees, begs me to rip my shirt open and expose my heaving bosom.

dying xD

This six-month endeavor has done nothing but make me realize how extremely horny I am, because instead of enjoying this country’s beautiful culture, all I can think about is lifting up every kilt that crosses my path and checking for underwear. I’m a Pervy Pervertson.

LMAO

Days since last male-induced orgasm: Seventy, and I wiped a cobweb from my lady area this morning.

xD

“Och, y’er American. Dinna fash yirsel, y’er in guid hauns.” *Blinks* *Mentally cleans out ears* *Blinks again* “You told me they speak English here,” I hiss at Dakota.

haha xD

And, Bonnie, you can walk with Rowan. He’s sturdy, so if you slip, just grab any of his muscles.” “Including the one in his pants,” Leith says,

💀

“I don’t know—you tell me. You’re the one walking like a Neanderthal with his arms all puffed out, knocking me into the bushes.” “I’m not manspreading; this is just the size of my body.” “You’re too big.” I snort. “I’ve never had that complaint before.”

Love the bantrr so much

And she’s helping me forget . .

infuriating! i need to knoooow

“Thank you.” She smiles, and Jesus Christ, it makes me want to push her up against the wall of the Mill Market and tame that sassy mouth.

DO IIIIIIT

“Just go see what he wants,” Dakota says, nudging Bonnie in the back. “What if it’s his penis or something? Last time a guy said he wanted to show me something, he stretched his nutsac over his pants and said, ‘Look, it’s gum.’” Who the hell is she hanging out with?

omg dyingggggg

“I’m dying,” Da finishes for her as she lets out a sob.

oh no