Authors: Charlotte Sloan
His beard touched her first, lightly tickling her inner thighs causing her to jump. But then she is kissed delicately on the lips of her pussy. Sigurd kissed her as her body quivered, goosebumps sweeping across her arms and legs. She waited for a moment and then felt her body begin to convulse, his tongue lapped at her pussy as her hands curled up and grabbed at the blankets. Sigurd’s tongue danced across her pussy and entered her, spreading her open. He pulled away a few times and admired it, using his hands to spread her ass apart so that he could see it better. He was thirsty and the only thing that could quench his thirst was her.
Angela let herself go as a wave of pleasure crashed over her body, causing her to go limp. Sigurd felt this and stood up, wiping his beard with a sheet that had been pulled from the bed. She looked over her shoulder at him as he removed his shirt and admired the tattoos once again. He reached forward and tangled his fingers up in her hair pulling back hard. Angela moaned loudly as he did this and then screamed his name as his cock slid inside her. Sigurd began slowly, allowing her body to get accustomed to his manhood. She gritted her teeth for the first few thrusts, but after the first few, she then moaned.
Sigurd placed one foot up on the cot next to her and shifted his stance so that he was penetrating her from almost above. The tip of his dick rubbed fully along her G spot causing more goosebumps and shutters to render her immobile. With his freehand Sigurd leaned forward and grasped at her tits, forcing his hand under her. She struggled to allow him easier access, but she didn’t want to move out of this position as it was the most intense, and longest lasting, orgasm she had ever had.
Sigurd began to thrust harder at this point and he tugged her hair back with more force. He abandoned her tit though and reached forward. He grabbed her neck so that as he pulled her hair she was simultaneously being choked. Angela felt her body beginning to shake again, another wave of ecstasy bound to render her useless. Sigurd’s thrusts slowed, but became longer and harder until he thrusted one last time, blasting himself inside her. Angela felt herself filling with his essence and allowed herself to slump down into the blankets as he pulled out.
Moving away from the bed, Sigurd reached for the pitcher of water and cups that were sitting beside the cot. Angela could barely think straight, but gladly took the cup of water that was handed to her. They both sat in silence for a few moments as they drank their water.
Angela’s mind raced to Matthew who was the only man she had ever been with. Their love was undeniable, but the passion and raw sexual energy that Sigurd put off was impossible to ignore. Sigurd watched her face as she thought, trying to rationalize that it wasn’t cheating because he was dead.
The Viking man stood, understanding now the expression on her face as one of loss. Leaning down he kissed her gently on the forehead and dressed quickly, finishing his water and placing the cup back on the table. He nodded to her and without needing to say anything, Angela knew that he would be right outside if she needed him. She nodded in return and he dipped under the flap in the door and she listened as the leaves crunched beneath his feet.
Just then there was a slight commotion in the distance and Angela heard a number of the men, including Sigurd, run in the direction of the noise. Angela stood and dressed herself and began to walk towards the exit to see what the noise had been, but a familiar voice whispered from the far side of the tent.
“Angela, I’m here to take you home.” Angela froze at the sound of Matthew’s voice. It had been so long since she had heard it, or heard the voice of anyone besides the Vikings. She shifted her weight towards Matthew but hesitated. She stood, caught between her two decisions. After thinking for moment she took a deep breath, and decided.
THE END
Clara was many things. For one, she was the most beautiful of all the women that had ever been born into her clan. She had a shock of raven black hair and emerald eyes that could soften even the hardest of highland barbarians. She spun tales and sung songs at all of the gatherings, and was pined after by nearly every man, married or not. But, above all else, she was the daughter of her clan’s chief.
She knew from a young age that this would hold a number of responsibilities, namely that she would be married off to either maintain peace or to end war. However, that was not her dream. Her dream was that one day she would meet a man that she could choose for herself. A man whose shoulders seemed liked they could hold the weight of the world, but had hands gentle enough to embrace and maintain the life that lived on it.
That was not in her stars though, as the only men that were ever brought before her and her father were men whose beards seemed to hold remnants of every meal that they had for the last year with breath so strong that the ale actually improved it. Each and every one of them stared at her with ravenous attention. Their eyes seemed to peer through her dress to her young, supple skin. Her breasts were like mountains they all wanted to climb and claim as their own.
Her father was a good, fair man and noticed that in these men, and while he knew that there were politics involved he also never wanted his daughter to become a sexual prize for one of these boorish men. So, for each and every man that stepped forward and spoke of plans to unite their clans but would not show his daughter respect, he would deny their deal. She was not as innocent as her father would imagine though.
Years before there had been a travelling trader that came through their land. He had long brown hair and his face was covered with stubble that was soft, not rough, to the touch. He spoke with a slight accent from a land she had never been and upon witnessing her beauty he gave her a gift. A golden necklace with a precious stone that hung from it. She gave him a gift in return. One that she still dreamt of and longed to recreate.
She had told the man to meet her in the nearby woods, a spot she frequented so it would not seem strange for her to wander in that direction, at nightfall. He did as he was told and was rewarded handsomely. As soon as she saw him she began to undress, her breasts exposed to the moonlight. He arrived and immediately began helping her finish, tearing off her clothes as quickly as he could. His hands were rough and calloused, but she didn’t mind as they navigated their way over her body. He reached down and grabbed her ass, his fingers slid between her butt cheeks and playfully toyed with her asshole.
She deftly unfastened his pants and pulled out his manhood, already hard. Clara stroked it gingerly as the man groaned softly. She bent over at the waist, his hands still grabbed at her ass, and she began to lick his cock. He moaned and slapped her ass, causing her to jump slightly. With a short giggle she continued, the dick slid in and out of her mouth, her black hair shaking with each thrust.
The man stopped focusing on her butt and reached down, holding her hair behind her head as she worked. With one hand under throat he began to thrust now, his dick sliding further and further down her throat. Clara changed positions and kneeled on the mossy ground, moaning gently as he continued to thrust.
After a moment or two he pulled out. Clara let out a small gasp and wiped away some spittle from her chin as the man removed his pants completely and motioned for her to lay down. She did as she was told and laid on her back, her legs open, eager with anticipation.
The man slid between her legs and shoved himself inside her. She let out a scream, but quickly covered her mouth to muffle it. The traveler did not seem phased though and began to rhythmically thrust his hips into her. She began to moan loudly, her pussy nearly dripping at this point. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her arms clutched at the back of his shirt as he pounded faster and more aggressively.
Clara let out a gasp with every thrust and could feel her skin tingle with the impending orgasm. With a collective shudder they both began to slow down, Clara pulled the man in close and they kissed, his beard brushed her face delicately. He pulled his dick out slowly and stood up, helping Clara to her feet. They dressed in silence and returned to her village, where she once again became the virgin bride-to-be.
So, after a day of sitting on the throne with her father, the eyes of countless drunk Scots having nearly burned through to her undergarments, she decided to take a walk to find someplace quiet to dream of the man again. She had always loved nature and felt that it also loved her in return. There were countless times that young deer or wild foxes would stop and stand in near admiration and respect for her. A number of times she was lucky enough to get close enough to touch them, their fur was nearly as soft and luscious as her own hair.
Clara thought about that as she walked along and was so distracted that after about ten minutes she looked up and realized she didn’t know where she was. She panicked for a moment and spun around trying to find some kind of landmark that she would recognize. After frantically searching, she came up with nothing. She even lost what direction she had come from. She fell to the ground and leaned up against a fallen tree, her face in her hands as she began to cry. A voice came booming from behind her. And it didn’t sound friendly.
****
She turned around slowly and came face to face with a grizzled looking man. Long scars interrupted his scraggled beard and greasy black hair was matted to the back of his neck. From what Clara could tell he was beginning to bald but kept his hair long in the back for some reason. Even in this high intensity situation she wanted to ask him why.
“What’s a pretty little minx like you doing out this deep in our forest, missy,” the voice growled. She took a moment and looked beyond him. She found herself being surrounded by three large man, two of them were skin and bones but the man in front of her was a portly fellow. He was clearly in charge of the group. Or at least the food supply.
“I seemed to have made a wrong turn and have gotten a bit lost. I wouldn’t mind some directions,” she said this as confidently as possible, but her voice cracked slightly. The two scrawny men lengthened their strides and blocked her two end of the path that she was currently on. The forest was densely wooded in this area and with this dress she knew that she wouldn’t be able to outrun the two spindly men.
“Oh, I’m sure we could help with you with directions.” The fat man reached into his belt and pulled out a long dagger. “Where does it seem you need to go?” He took a step forward and held the knife to her throat, the tip pricked her neck slightly, drawing a bead of blood.
“I need to get back to my village. If I’m not back soon there will be men out looking for me.” She was lying slightly. She had fallen asleep a number of times in the woods, enough times that if she went missing through a night, most people at this point didn’t worry until a day or two has passed.
“In that case, you might fetch a bounty,” he slid the knife down towards the knots tied on the front of her dress. “Once we’re done with you of course.” The two other men begin to skulk forward like hyenas. She shoved away the larger man and turned in an attempt to run away, but the two smaller men lunged forward, grabbing her arms. “No need to run,” the larger man grunted, unfastening his pants.
As he said that, one of the men let out a blood curdling scream and reached down towards his hand where a large gash had appeared. Without anyone noticing, a man in leather armor had dropped in on them and cut the two smaller men down. Both let go of Clara who continued to run off into the woods.
She broke branches and tore her dress as she ran headlong into the forest, the screams of the men slowly died off and she slowed down, taking a moment to glance behind her for the first time since beginning to run. She looked off into the distance and could not see anything. She swore under her breath. There was no way that one man could take on three bandits she thought. She wished she had stayed and tried to help in some way, but instead she had run. Clara fell to the ground, leaned against a tree, and wept.
****
“Why are you crying,” a voice questioned from a few feet away. Clara opened her eyes and saw the man clothed in leather. In an instant she was taken by him. He had long blonde hair that was tied in a braid behind his back, a forest green ribbon had been tied into the braid and his hair gleamed when it caught the light. His eyes were a deeper shade of blue than the ocean and his cheekbones sat high on his face.
He stared at her with a look of confusion and concern as she looked back at him transfixed. His armor sat snugly across his chest and shoulders and a crest she did not recognize was blazoned across the front. It was slightly worn, but it was obviously once a brilliant shade of green, similar to the ribbon in his braid. He had a small splatter of blood across his face, but he did not seem to react at all. He had clearly seen combat before, but still seemed almost gentle.
“I had thought they killed you,” Clara responded quietly. The man reached down and helped her to her feet. She stood up and reached forward instinctively, trying to wipe away the blood from his face. His hand darted up and caught her hand, pulling back his head slightly. “You just have a spot of blood,” his hands were firm, but did not crush her hand. She had been reprimanded before, but this didn’t feel like much of a punishment. She almost enjoyed him being rough. There was no real threat in his actions.
“I see, that is nothing that a lady should have to handle.” He pulled out a small handkerchief from a hidden pocket in his armor that was already covered in blood, most likely from cleaning the blade of his sword. She took a moment and admired the blade. The sword looked as though it would be wielded by a man in chainmail, not leather. The hilt had clearly had one of the gems removed which was peculiar.
This man seemed so light in comparison to the men she was used to. He was clearly a man who knew how to handle himself, but she expected him to fly away, almost like a fairy. Those were merely stories that she was told as a child though. He looked at her quizzically and pointed at his face.
“Yes, you got it.” The man nodded, put away the rag, and began to walk off. She watched as he began to walk away and shouted after him. “Excuse me, a lady also shouldn’t be left alone in the woods.” She was not used to being so forward in a begging type of way. Clara was used to men bending over backwards without her having to ask. The man looked back at her.
“I’m not leaving you. Please, if you would follow me.” He looked around quickly, his eyes darting into the dark parts of the forest. “And quickly.” She jogged lightly to catch up and asked him a final question.
“Who are you?” The man stopped and turned to look at her. He tilted his head and examined her closely, the eyes that had just darted around to scan the area now sat perfectly still, staring into her eyes.
“My name is Kieran, and I am the sworn protector of this forest.”
****
Clara followed Kieran as he walked through the forest. His strides were long and careful, missing all of the foliage on the forest floor, somehow finding a way to not step on anything except the dirt. She was not as deft with walking through the forest and every few moments Kieran would turn and look at her frustrated as she would step on another plant.
“Can you at least try not to step on every single plant we cross?” He bent down and corrected a fern that she had crushed. He stood back up and turned to continue.
“Well this dress isn’t making things any easier for me,” she pulled at her dress and showed him how constricting it was. “And where are we going?” Kieran took a few steps towards her and pulled out a knife from the back of his belt. He took up a handful of the dress and began to cut it, freeing her legs. She went to stop him, but he glanced up at her and she caved under his gaze.
He finished cutting the dress all around her and stood back up. When he rose up he was inches from her face. His warm breath tickled her nose and she was pleasantly surprised to find his breath didn’t reek of ale or wine, but smelled like fresh mint leaves. She was also amazed by how his face didn’t have a single hair growing on it.
“My cabin isn’t much further,” Kieran looked up at the darkening sky. “We’ll stay there for the night and I’ll return you safely in the morning.” He turned around and began to walk away, Clara absently reached out towards him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and breathe him in for a few minutes longer. Her hand closed around the air and she followed along behind him, now easily avoiding all of the plants in her path, matching his steps.
As they walked through the forest she noticed figures in her peripheral vision that would dart out of view whenever she would attempt to look at them directly. The walk continued and she would attempt to make them out from the corner of her eye. From what she could tell, they appeared to be more slender than Kieran, but could potentially be wearing the same armor. She had never had the greatest vision and her mind often played tricks on her, but she was fairly certain this time.