Authors: Astrid Lee Donovan
Moments later the queen joined her guardsmen at the center table in the feasting hall; a long, wooden table lined with hand carved serve ware that included trenchers, goblets, trays and bowls that overflowed with the makings of a grand royal feast.
And as the brothers enjoyed a sumptuous dinner of rich venison, fire roasted potatoes, fresh fruits handpicked from the fragrant meadows of their fertile land of Birka, and refreshing ale served up in ceremonial horns, they fed also their leader’s keen curiosity in regards to their recent journey.
“So tell me first, my Gentlemen,” Astrid pressed, leaning forward to pierce them with an inquisitive stare, “The moment that you set foot on the earth of each country you visited, did you do exactly as I bid you?”
Magnus nodded.
“Yes, Milady,” he answered her, adding as he lifted his sculpted chin with open and evident pride, “We delivered the gold coins and silken clothes that you gave us to orphanages and shelters for women in every country. Then we traded the valued goods that you sent with us—the silver, the honey, the amber—for those things that our clan and village need most.”
Eirik grinned.
“Aye, we now have all of the timber and furs needed to last us throughout the coldest winter,” he reported, tossing his blond hair in a leonine flip that seemed to express his pride. “And, as you always direct us my queen, we did not steal, plunder or pillage in our quest to secure the finest goods this world has to offer. And as always we acted as protectors of the citizens we met, particularly the maidens who crossed our path.”
Astrid nodded.
“Aye, this is what I always have taught you. Honor and defend the women!” she declared, raising her goblet high in their honor. “I always have vowed to expel any warrior who dared to violate or molest a female. And you two always see fit to extend this edict—to guard and protect even the most common thrall or karl, especially if she be of the fairer gender.”
Magnus shifted on his bench.
“Aye. You set a fine example for us, milady, by at all times insisting to keep thralls and karls as your paid servants, instead of treating them as slaves. And you always teach us to treat every woman and girl just as we would treat you,” he concurred, adding as he exchanged an uneasy gaze with his brother, “It was, as a matter of fact, in service to a maiden that we raised our swords on this trip. Eirik and I were walking the streets of London town one balmy evening, in search of a decent ale house that welcomed Norse folk, when we came upon a woman being beaten and assaulted by a cretin of the streets.”
Astrid frowned.
“Assaulted?” she repeated through gritted teeth, balling her fists beside her as she felt a rash of angry color flood her fair cheeks. “Do you speak of rape?”
Eirik nodded.
“We do, milady,” he affirmed, adding quickly, “Yet rest assured that we bested the assailant. When he ignored our commands to stop, we pulled his body upward to free his victim—then skewered him in a sensitive part, to ensure that he would never again molest a woman. Indeed, we assured that he never again could attack a woman in this heinous fashion, even if he chose to do so.”
“We pierced him where it counts,” Magnus clarified, arching meaningful eyebrows in Astrid’s direction.
Once again Astrid’s goblet came up in a stirring salute to her favorite warriors; this time accompanied by a joyful whoop that brought smiles to the faces of her fellow feasters.
“Aye!” she cheered them on, taking a hearty swig of her honey tinged ale as she added, “I cannot tell you enough, dear gentlemen, just how very much I value and adore you, my two gorgeous guardsmen!”
Eirik chuckled.
“We thank ye, milady,” he replied with a wink, adding in a lower tone, “We also are most pleased to learn that you do indeed find us handsome. This will ensure that you enjoy even more the gift we have to give you on the morrow.”
Setting her goblet on the table before her, Astrid leaned forward to fix her warriors with a sharp, curious look.
“All right then, enough mystery,” she insisted, adding as she inclined her head in the direction of her beaming guardsmen, “What exactly do the two of you have planned for your queen?”
Magnus shrugged.
“Well my queen, it’s a might difficult for us to describe in mere words the gifts we have to offer you,” he revealed, adding with a flirtatious wink, “We’d rather show you instead, so why not just us on the morrow for a picnic in the meadow behind your longhouse? Allow us to prepare a grand meal for you, much as you have offered us today, and present to you our finest gifts—our endless and adoring tokens of our love and appreciation.”
Eirik nodded.
“Aye, tis a plan,” he agreed, adding as he narrowed his emerald eyes in Astrid’s direction, “There’s more than one way to worship a queen, ye know.”
Astrid thought a moment, and then nodded.
“Aye Gentlemen, I will join you at noon on the morrow, on the crest of my royal meadow. And I must admit, my curiosity is at a peak!” she declared, adding silently, “Among other things.”
The next day Queen Astrid ventured free and barefoot into the emerald-hued grasses of rolling meadows; vast Swedish green spaces lined and dotted with exotic growths of pearl pink roses, lavender violets and pure ivory daffodils.
The beauty and ebullience of these floral gems was rivaled only by the spectacle of a pure azure sky—one that came a light today with the luminous beacon that only be called “sol,” the Swedish word for sun. The queen cast her head back to bask in the rays of this lush, majestic beacon.
Suddenly the Viking queen felt more like a young, carefree lass, that today wore a crown of daffodils, as opposed to a golden helmet, as well as a flowing silk dress of cornflower blue that fell graceful to her bare feet.
“I hope only that my two gentlemen friends can tolerate the sight of their queen in such—ahem—informal attire,” she mused; even as she wriggled her toes in the dew kissed grasses beneath her.
She sighed relieved moments later, as she spotted her two favorite companions as they relaxed in the grasses of a nearby bank that bordered a crystalline pond. Indeed, it seemed that these two honorable warriors themselves seemed ensnared in a casual mood, and in place of the shields, helmets and chain mail shirts that typified their usual apparel, they instead wore….
“Very little, as a matter of fact,” she observed, eyes flying wide as she noted that Magnus and Eirik wore nothing more than skin tight breeches culled from the finest, slickest leather.
“My goddess,” she murmured, admiring the broad, hard, and delightfully bare chests of her handsome young guardsmen.
Both Magnus and Eirik boasted massive bronzed pectorals and flawless sculpted abdominal muscles, along with broad muscled shoulders and long, strong arms that seemed made for holding and loving a woman.
Finally tearing her gaze from the surface of their massive, sun kissed torsos; she stared instead at their flawless faces. This was a bad move, as she now discovered that the two of them were watching her, watching them.
“Like what you see, milady?” Magnus queried, waggling his feathered eyebrows to flirtatious effect. “Then by all means, do come join us.”
Soon the queen enjoyed another feast at the side of her favorite consorts, this one consisting of juicy sliced salmon, ripe round cherries picked from a nearby tree, and goblets brimming over with sparkling, refreshing nature made spring water.
“This is delicious, my good men,” Astrid praised them, smacking her lips as she savored a slice of moist, sumptuous salmon.
Eirik nodded.
“We are so glad to please our jarl,” he bowed to her, adding as he reached behind his back, “And now, my queen, we have a second gift for you, that we hope you will enjoy even more.”
With this the Viking produced a sparkling gem that bore more of a likeness to a radiant rose; a fine ruby broach that gleamed in the sunlight, shining forth as an ebullient display of the queen’s signature color.
“My queen,” Eirik declared, reaching forward to affix the broach to the lapel of Astrid’s day gown, “We procured this lovely scarlet gem for you from a jeweler in Paris. We spent our own gold to secure this priceless jewel for you, our own jewel. Our beloved Queen Astrid.”
Magnus looked on with an abiding smile as Astrid stared with gaping lips and blatant admiration at her bejeweled token; one that grew more luminous still as it captured the light of the sun.
“It—it’s so beautiful,” she breathed, her sturdy fingers fingering and caressing her newly given treasure. “I thank ye, my good men.” She paused here, adding with a slight shrug, “I must admit, however, that I am quite surprised to discover that your mysterious, much promised gift takes the form of a broach pin.” She finished these words on a flat, hard note that relayed her keen disappointment.
The brothers laughed.
“Rest assured, Miss, the broach is the first of many gifts we plan to offer you today,” Magnus assured her, adding as he planted his strong hands on her shoulders and turned her in his direction, “Milady, please know that my brother and I are always in your service. Not only in matters of state and council, but in personal matters as well. Know also that we hold you in the highest esteem and regard, and that we cherish you as a woman of intellect, grace, and timeless radiance.”
“As such,” Eirik continued, whispering his own words at her back and subtly in her ear, “We would like to offer you as tribute today the most personal, intimate gifts we can give you today: our bodies and ourselves.”
Astrid stiffened, her eyes flying wide as she considered these provocative words.
“You mean to offer me your bodies for…personal services?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper as her eyes flew wide.
Magnus nodded.
“Consider us your love servants, milady,” he purred, dark eyes flashing hot and seductive as he flexed his chest muscles for her approval. “We pledge to do whatever you desire—whatever will fulfill your deepest desires and realize your every forbidden fantasy.”
“Oh!” the good queen Astrid giggled in spite of herself then wondered a bit at this foreign sound. “Well the answer is yea, most definitely,” she paused here, adding as she spread her arms wide, “Yet I must say that, as long as I have been without a man’s attentions, I know not as to where to begin.”
“Let us begin with a kiss.”
Filling her outstretched arms, Magnus seized the queen’s lips in an intense, passionate kiss; his full, moist mouth rubbing against hers as his strong agile hands echoed their sublime motion, wrapping tight around her thick waist to draw her father inward.
Swallowing her surprised gasp, the warrior lowered Astrid’s body slow and gentle into the grasses beneath them, her breasts crushing his rock hard chest as her wandering hands followed suit, touching and stroking the massive sun kissed surface of his magical pecs and abs.
Even as her tongue ventured forward to intensify their kiss, Astrid took in her breath as a second pair of hands buried themselves in her sturdy, work worn shoulders, rubbing away all signs of tension as their ever attentive owner kissed and licked the back of her neck. Eirik sent wicked chills down the base of her spine as he made to unbutton her sleek blue gown.
As Magnus continued to kiss her senseless, all the while fondling her heaving breasts and tickling her tummy, his brother mimicked his motions on the bare skin of her back; his agile fingers rubbing and kneading her shoulders and back as his long, wet tongue coursed the length of her spine.
“Aye milady, ye are beautiful,” Magnus whispered, sliding her gown and pantaloons down her long sturdy legs before depositing them on the ground beside them.
“No,” Astrid replied, even as she threw her head back and purred contented as Magnus buried his head in her chest. “I am no beauty—never have been, Magnus.”
“Then you do not see yourself through our eyes,” he whispered against her skin, all the while licking her nipples and kissing the tender skin that surrounded them. “Today, love, we pledge to make you feel like the goddess you are. Treasured. Adored. And worshipped.”
As if on cue an impassioned Eirik lowered his hand to the queen’s fleshy hips and round derriere, rubbing and kneading her bare skin before delving farther inward.
As an adoring Magnus once again seized her lips in an intense, heated kiss, rubbing her neck and shoulders with loving hands, Eirik cupped and kneaded her aroused femininity; fixing his agile fingers around her clit and massaging its sensitive skin.
Astrid jumped in Magnus’ arms as Eirik’s tender ministrations sent sharp bolts of empowered arousal coursing upward throughout her body, her heart and pulse pounding as one accord as her clit throbbed in Eirik’s grasp—his free hand continuing to knead her back as she purred outright in response.
Writhing wild in Magnus’ arms, Astrid groaned outright as his long, wet tongue flowed back and forth in her mouth, imitating perfectly the movements of sex as she ran an adoring hand through the silken lengths of his reddish dark hair.
“My darlings,” she breathed against his succulent mouth, reaching back with her free hand to stroke the length of Eirik’s rock hard chest and sculpted abs, this tender move inspiring him to quicken the movements of his magical fingertips as they kneaded and ignited her nub.
Finally and with a light squeeze he sent her over the edge, sending her aroused body deep into the realm of an incredible clitoral orgasm.
Letting loose with a satiated cry, the queen clung to Magnus’ powerful shoulders as her breasts crushed into his chest; her erect nipples scraping his as she threw himself against him in a fit of pleasure.
Sweeping her up in an impassioned embrace, Magnus settled her writhing body beneath his as their arms and legs entwined.
“Aye, I can tell ye enjoyed that, milady,” cooed her flame haired lover, staring deep into her eyes as his long, silken strands fell free against her breasts. “And I do believe that I could do things to ye that our magnificent lady will enjoy even more.”
With these words Magnus rained her flushed cheeks with adoring kisses, all the while uniting their sweat lined bodies as their hips and thighs locked between them.
Opening her eyes wide, an enthralled Queen Astrid stared over her brawny shoulder, running her fingernails in a trail down Magnus’ back as she saw the beautiful blond Eirik run free in the direction of the grassy knoll that separated them from her favorite sparkling pond.
As an adoring Magnus cuddled her closed to him and gyrated his leather clad hips tight against hers, she watched with wonder as the golden Eirik performed some skilled and very skillful gyrations of his own. Performing a sexualized version of an ancient dance reserved for spirited overnight feasts—the kind she rarely attended—Eirik’s hard, sinewy body slithered and gyrated in an obvious tease as he seared her with a narrow eyed gaze that dripped with seduction.
Her eyes followed his every sensual movement as he danced and pranced for her pleasure, running his hands down the length of his immaculate torso as the sun cast an iridescent spotlight on his every provocative move. Much like a harem girl he flexed his pectorals and rolled his abs—all the while flexing his muscled shoulders and thrusting a groin that seemed to strain the confines of its tight leather covering.
“So beautiful, ye both are,” she purred, gracing Magnus’ peerless behind with a resounding slap as he suckled her heaving breasts and ran his tickling fingertips like running water down the skin of her sensitive sides.
Running his own strong hands up his tight, taut hips as they swiveled for the pleasure of his ravenous lady, Eirik growled outright as he grasped the border of his tight leather breeches, dragging them with passionate fervor down her legs to reveal a long, hard shaft that rose in tribute to salute their queen.
Mimicking this motion, Astrid reached downward with trembling hands and grasped the border of Magnus’ breeches; sliding them down his firm, trim legs to unleash the hard, erect cock that flew upward to tease her feminine cleft.
“What do you desire, my queen?” Magnus released on a growl, his hips cradling hers as his hands coursed and caressed every part of her being.
“I desire you inside of me,” she hissed, cupping his sculpted face in two tender hands as she bucked her sturdy hips upward to slam against his.
Eager to heed the will of his queen, an impassioned Magnus swept his lady up in his arms and pressed his chest into hers; his trim hips gyrating wild against hers as their lips and tongues sealed and bound in what seemed a binding kiss.
Clutching his queen to him in a fierce, passionate clench, Magnus’ long, pulsating shaft penetrated the depths of her soaking wet pussy, surging back and forth to reflect the motion of their dancing tongues.
Their naked, joined bodies rolled wild and free on the heather stern floor of their meadow; their common strength and agility propelling their actions, even as it intensified the animal heat that lurked between them.
At one point an ecstatic Astrid found herself atop one of her favored warriors, finally able to touch and adore the body she’d admired so long. As her own strong form met and melded with that of the handsome flame haired guardsman, she licked and laved his muscular chest and stroked his rock hard abs; her hand slipping lower still to stroke the base of the shaft that surged and reverberated within her.
She also loved the way that he growled like an animal when writhing in her arms, a fiery warrior wild and unbound as he clasped her to him in a strong embrace and gyrated his trim hips against hers in a certain passionate rhythm, all the while stroking her hair and cupping her cheeks with the tenderness of the gentlest lover.
Their agile, powerful bodies locked and linked together to form the perfect yin and yang; their legs and arms linking to supplant the power of the ethereal life force that seemed to bind them together as their lips collided in a heated kiss.
Finally and with a long last stroke Magnus exploded within the body of his queen, throwing his head back and letting loose with an animal howl as his every muscle flexed in ecstasy. His lady at once joined him in this empowered chorus of screams and moans as their beings rode the wave of an incredible, multi-layered mutual orgasm, unleashing between them a battle cry that rode high on the tendrils of the afternoon breeze.
Moments later the couple hugged and rolled together on the softened, heather strewn banks of the meadow; Magnus picking an ivory-hued lily from the ground beside them and rubbing its whisper soft petals across her nipples and down the length of her sensitive tummy—making tender circles in her belly button while she giggled with delight.