Authors: Astrid Lee Donovan
“Aye, someone should record this scene on the surface of a rune stone, for future generations to read,” Astrid deadpanned. “All should know about the day that the great warrior wielded a lily as opposed to a sword—making a revered queen giggle like a young girl.”
Magnus guffawed outright.
“Aye milady, I well agree,” he concurred, adding as his laughter faded, “I do wonder, though…where is my brother?”
As if in answer to this query a loud splash now resounded from the sparkling pond that bordered their nature made trysting place, drawing their attention to the waters that sparkled like diamonds in the light of the overhead sun.
Astrid almost gasped outright at the vision of the god like man that now swam in these sol-kissed waves. A man who, with his soaking strands of golden blond hair and bronzed, muscled chest and arms—now coated with an appealing layer of crystalline water droplets that only served to enhance his tone and definition—likened an extension of the sun itself. And when the vision beckoned to her from the waters, she found that she could not resist him.
“Come to me, my lady,” Eirik charmed her with a wolfish grin. “‘Tis time for the queen’s bath.”
Astrid shifted her gaze toward Magnus, who now reclined his muscle bound form in a bed of soft, luxurious clover.
“Aye, go ahead my queen,” he bid her, flexing his chest and stretching his abdominals to appealing effect. “I could use a good rest.”
Springing to her feet as she released a spirited whoop worthy of a Viking queen, Astrid took off in a dead run for the waters before her; diving headfirst into a pool of sheer aqua that both nurtured and revitalized her.
Breaking the surface moments later to face her golden guard, the queen at once relished a closer view of the warrior who had morphed into a nymph of the waters; the planes of his carved cheeks, the lengths of his golden hair, the breadth of his flawless torso all smattered with an appealing sheen of luminous water drops.
“Come to me, milady,” the nymph released on a growl, holding his arms open to her.
Closing all distance between them, Astrid soon found herself clutched in a cocoon of golden skin and water kissed muscle; her soaking wet body rubbing and sliding against Eirik’s with a divine friction that drove them both insane.
Soon their legs and arms intermingled as, fully and finally, their lips did join in a fierce, binding kiss, their tongues also entangling as their united forms floated together in a paradise of aqua.
Claiming his queen’s lips in a passionate kiss, Eirik massaged her lips with his and his strong but nurturing hands washed the strands of her long brown hair and rubbed her shoulders and back, next splashing reams of water against the surface of her tender breasts as she giggled with delight.
Breaking their kiss to splash her lover in good and kind return, Astrid soon playfully wrestled with her longtime friend, their sturdy arms and heaving chests straining against each other as they laughed and chortled together.
The horseplay turned serious moments later, as Eirik buried his head in Astrid’s chest to lick and suckle her breasts, lapping up the water drops that covered their surface as his long, hard shaft surged upward in the water.
Wrapping her arms around his firm back and entangling her fingers in his long, wet mass of silken gold hair, the queen rocked her hips against his—opening herself to welcome his advances as the waves cradled and supported their bodies.
“All in good time, milady,” Eirik whispered against her skin, cradling her body close to his as he rubbed and washed the length of her back before gracing her rear with a playful squeeze. “I’ve dreamt of this day a long time. I aim to take my time with you.”
Once again seizing her lips in a warm, meaningful kiss, a tender Eirik enclosed his queen in adoring arms and swayed her back and forth; leading her in the motions of a water ballet that made her feel light and feminine.
“No small feat, that,” she mused in silence, sinking in Eirik’s arms as he pulled her closer still, his massive chest pressing her breasts as their tongues, hips and thighs locked between them.
Wrapping her arms tight around Eirik’s massive shoulders and her long, sturdy legs around his trim waist, an ecstatic Astrid savored the feel of her muscle-bound warrior clutched tight in her arms. And judging by the way that his long, hard shaft now grazed her soaking wet feminine cleft, he more than shared in this emotion.
The surrounding waters supplying the ideal lubricant for their intimate interaction, the couple fully and finally joined as one; a lustful Eirik running a long, wet tongue down the length of his lover’s neck as his pulsating rod sank into the depths of her aroused femininity, sinking deep in her pussy as he raised his head to stare deep into her eyes.
“I seek only to excite and please the queen,” he whispered, staring deep into her eyes as he gyrated his hard, trim hips against hers and as his strong; loving arms clutched her to him.
Eager to prove these words, the golden warrior swept her up in his embrace as she impaled herself on his long, hard shaft, her breasts crushing his chest as their thighs pressed together and he drove forth to her very core.
Their lips colliding and smacking together in the heat of their passion, the couple just barely noted the splash that resounded in the water behind them. Yet as a ravenous Astrid threw herself against Eirik and their joined bodies floated still closer together, she felt a second pair of adoring hands course the length of her back, washing and caressing her as a moist pair of lips graced the skin of her shoulders.
Writhing and reveling in the attentions supplied by two adoring men, Astrid gasped outright as her fair-haired lover surged deep and full within her; sending them hurtling across the bounds of an incredible climax. Opening her eyes wide she basked in a whirling kaleidoscope of sun, water, hard, bronzed muscle, as the incredible sensation seized Astrid’s body in the depths of an explosive orgasm.
Moments later the blissful trio splashed playful in the streams of the crystalline pond, laughing and chortling as they performed impressive dives and water stunts—all the while enjoying each other’s company as they contemplated their future.
“This has been a wondrous day, good gentlemen,” Astrid praised her warriors, adding as she linked her arms around their massive, dew glistened shoulders, “A day I hope to repeat in the future, as soon and as often as possible.”
Magnus nodded.
“Anytime ye wish, milady,” he promised her, adding as he pressed his lips sweet against her cheek, “For as much as adore our exalted stations as your warriors, traders and guardsmen, it is our fondest wish and hope to be your lovers as well.”
Astrid beamed.
“Aye, and just as you make good lovers,” she noted, adding with a mysterious wink, “Ye might just make bloody good kings as well.”
THE END
The Binding of the Viking Queen
MFM Menage Romance
Viking’s Kiss: Both the Queen’s Men
And so it has been told in the annals of Viking lore the story of the queen who harbored two kings; great and faithful Norse warriors who pledged their lives and their fidelity to one magnificent woman. Queen Astrid of Sweden, claimed two hearts and dual bodies, both of which she held in equitable acclaim for all her days on earth. And now that it has been told just how their story commenced, it now must be related how their eternal union finally came to pass….
Astrid may indeed have been a queen; on this day, however, she felt more like a goddess of the sea.
Riding high on the sun soaked, gem blue waves of the glittering North Sea, the golden longship named for her sailed forth beneath the guidance of her expert hand; the tall scarlet sails of Astrid’s Dream flapping in the morning wind as its jewel-encased helm, one that took the form of an exquisite swan’s head with eyes that glittered diamonds, drove fast and furious through the waves before her.
Having just completed a successful trade mission in the nations of greater Europe, she beamed with pride when she considered all of the priceless goods she had scored during the course of her travels. The silks, the furs, the timber, the jewels, that she had attained through acts of fair trade—through the use, not of raised swords or pronounced threats, but with the offer of the high quality goods crafted and grown in her home clan of Sigrid (named in honor of her personal idol, the great leader known as Sigrid the Haughty), situated in Birka, Sweden. She’d also honored that clan by paying tributes in the form of gold coins to orphanages and shelters for abused women.
As much as Astrid had planned and conducted this journey, she had not taken the trip alone; instead choosing to share it with the men of her heart.
Magnus the warrior, generally the keeper and captain of Astrid’s Dream, joined his brother and co-captain Eirik in inviting their queen to personally accompany them on their latest journey to the farthest reaches of Europe. And although it stood as their greatest honor to share their journey with their ruler and goddess, it stood as their greatest pleasure to share their beds with her every night below deck.
Although the brothers always had loved and worshipped Astrid the Good, whose name literally translated to ‘godlike beauty,’ it only had been a year since the queen’s longtime friends—whose previous shared physical activities included foot races and arm wrestling matches that she nearly always won—had become her passionate lovers as well.
“Aye, as much as I do enjoy the foot races,” she mused now, face erupting in her signature beam, “I daresay the passionate, very vigorous lovemaking sessions I share with these gentlemen are even more enjoyable, require more energy, and are infinitely more pleasurable—and, I daresay, they do much to build up our muscled physiques!”
A tall, sturdy woman with a muscled physique and rugged features, Astrid was not widely considered a traditional beauty. Yet her dual lovers praised her radiance and elegance to high heavens, while never neglecting to mention her strength and wisdom. They loved and worshipped her endlessly; and she adored and cared for them in kind return.
Although she well understood that the original offer of their bodies and sex had been motivated mainly by a desire to fulfill her long neglected needs for romance and sensuality, she couldn’t help but note the love and passion that she saw in their eyes and felt in their touch whenever she loved them. And she had felt intense flattery a few moons past, when the bachelor brothers both abandoned their search for young, biddable brides; preferring a slightly older and just as biddable—though in a strong, stalwart and eternally noble manner—matriarch.
She always had believed that these sublime northern gentlemen—individuals who excelled as guardsmen, warriors, traders and councilmen—would make grand kings. Now she wondered if they would consent at any time to become her kings; to stand alongside her as adjacent rulers over the clad of Sigrid, to share her duties and responsibilities, and—of course—to continue to take their turns in her bed every eve.
“We mustn’t forget that part,” she mused with a smile, turning now to greet the men who shared her boat, her mission and her life.
Her heart always skipped a beat at the vision of Magnus, the captain of her guard, who boasted a silken mane of reddish gold hair that shone like pure fire in the light of the sun above them. His wide, intense eyes shone blackest ebony in this same ethereal light.
Supplying a glorious and illuminating contrast to his older brother, Eirik boasted a luxurious fall of soft gold hair that seemed kissed by the sun itself; a long, silken mane that added further radiance to his sparkling, emerald green eyes.
Both gentlemen stood proud and tall with their towering, statuesque forms, with many a maiden pausing to admire their pure bronzed skin, carved features, long, flowing hair and defined muscularity. And both shone resplendent in their glowing suit of noble and shining battle armor, with golden helmets atop their heads and tight, glimmering chain mail shirts that both restrained and adorned their bulging muscular chests. Both carried bright and exquisitely detailed scarlet hued shields that bore illustrations of elegant, thick-feathered swans: the symbol and crest of the Clan of Sigrid. And both toted their lengthy sharp swords ever ready at their sides--always prepared to defend if needed the honor and dignity of their beloved clan and queen.
The same queen that they now rushed forward to enshroud in a tender but muscle bound embrace.
“Hello my love!” they both said at once, then laughed in spite of themselves as they held their lady close and tight between them.
For just a moment the queen lost herself in the affections of her lovers devoted, basking in their tender touch, and the contrasting feel of their hard muscled bodies as they enshrouded her in a protective cocoon. She inhaled their light citrus tinged scent, felt the sweep of their lustrous hair at her shoulders, and finally collapsed into a rare fit of giggles as their full, moist lips showered her face and neck with endless adoring kisses.
It was a momentary indulgence.
“All right, then, Gentlemen, enough!” she chided them gentle, jumping from their grasp.
Magnus shrugged.
“Of course we mean no offense,” he frowned, adding as he exchanged uncertain glances with his equally baffled brother, “We do love having you in our company for this journey, milady. We value you, not only as our companion, but as an expert trader, boat captain….”
“….and warrior!” Eirik interrupted, adding with a broad beam, “We quite enjoyed the way that you dispatched that cretin back in London, who tried to assault that innocent woman outside the city alehouse. You most certainly do have a—ahem—way with a sword.”
Astrid grinned.
“I’m bettin’ that lad will be singin’ soprano for quite some time,” she agreed with a grin, adding through gritted teeth, “As I recall from that eve, I celebrated that monumental victory on behalf of maidens everywhere by throwing back quite a bit of ale,” she paused here, adding as she grasped her forehead in a most dramatic fashion, “Ack, my achin’ head!”
Exploding with laughter, Magnus and Eirik smiled at their queen with warm affection as they opened their arms to her.
“We see it as our official duty to warm and comfort our queen,” Magnus declared, adding as he waggled his eyebrows to flirtatious effect, “Would you care to go below deck with us, so we can brighten your spirits a bit?”
Astrid thought a moment, then shook her head.
“As much as I would love, aye outright adore, that prospect right about now,” she admitted, waggling her eyebrows in kind return, “I feel that we must discuss something first. Before we sail for home, dear gents, I wish to discuss a matter of great seriousness with the both of you.”
Eirik bit his lip.
“Why, my queen?” he pressed her, adding as he inclined his head in her direction, “Did we do something wrong in your chamber last night? Aye, with all the ruckus you were makin’ right about midnight, we well assumed that we doing everything right.”
Astrid grinned.
“You both were perfect, as is usual,” she assured him, adding in a lower tone, “Tis simply that, well, in recent months I have been contemplating a major change in my life. It is a change that will impact not only my clan and myself, but the two of you, as well. Or, as I should say, the three of us.” She paused here, adding as she clutched her hands tight before her and squared her substantial shoulders, “After a blissful and very satisfying life spent as a maiden queen, I have made the monumental decision to enter the bonds of wedlock. I, dear gents, would like to marry—and as soon as heavenly possible.”
Her beam dissolved as her two loyal lovers ducked their heads in unison, bracing their arms together in a show of mutual support as they shared a long, sad gaze of mutual condolence.
“Aye, milady, we feared this day would come,” Magnus told her, adding as he shook his head from side to side, “We feared that someday you would choose to bind your life to a man—most likely a king or head of state from an allied clan—and that you would then find cause to leave us behind. And as much as it saddens us that the woman we love so dearly is about to leave our beds, we hope to remain forever by your side as your most loyal servants, warriors and guardsmen.”
“Forever,” Eirik echoed, voice low and choked as he agreed with his brother’s proclamation.
Astrid shook her head.
“Aye,” she released on a sigh. “Why do you warriors always have to be so bloody dramatic about everythin’? I’m not about to marry a king of another clan—someone who in all likelihood would like to usurp my power, overtake my clan and relegate me to the role of baby maker,” she spat out this last word as though it was venom. “Nay, I wish only to marry someone who will share and enhance my power, not seize it outright, and who will treat me as an equal at all times and for all purposes.”
With these words she stepped forward to point a loving but quite authoritative finger square in their direction.
“I wish to marry ye!” she declared, nodding her head in strong affirmation.
Magnus and Eirik stared at her for a long, quiet moment; then at one another for a longer, even quieter moment.
“With all due respect, milady,” Eirik queried, tone low and uncertain, “Which one of us in particular would you like to marry? Or do you have a preference?”
Magnus pursed his full, soft lips to adorable effect.
“I suppose we could vie for your hand in a competition of some sort—a foot race, perhaps, or an arm wrestling match,” he mused, stroking his sculpted chin to pensive effect.
Astrid guffawed outright.
“You silly men,” she chortled, waving a teasing finger in their direction. “I want to marry both of ye!”
Rendered speechless by this assertion, the brothers before her gaped outright as they considered her words.
“With all due respect, milady,” Eirik repeated. “Would such a union fall within the laws of our land?”
Astrid laughed.
“I am the queen,” she declared, tossing back her chestnut brown mane to regal and dramatic effect. “I create the laws of my land. And, if you gentlemen well consent, I’d love to claim you both as my kings.”
Magnus gaped.
“You mean to name us both your kings?” he asked her, voice barely above a whisper.
Astrid nodded.
“Indeed I do. In your time of service to me, you have more than proven yourselves as councilors, guardsmen, warriors and, um, capable consorts—yes, that’s the term. I am beyond convinced that both of you would make great kings for this land,” she affirmed, adding as she raised a pointed finger for emphasis, “I must insist, however, that you still regard me as your queen and equal at all times. I shall share my power, not relinquish it. And at all times you must show your absolute and unbending loyalty to the woman who gave you your crowns.”
Without hesitation her loyal lovers fell to their knees before her, bowing their heads and kissing her feet as they wrapped their arms around her legs.
“We hereby swear our eternal and unbinding love for and fealty to our blessed, beloved queen,” Magnus declared. “A queen that we are more than honored to make our bride.”
“Aye,” Eirik agreed immediately. “We swear to serve you well as husbands, and as kings. We swear to obey your every word, abide your every command. And I am sure my brother now would agree. We’d well love to celebrate our impending union by making mad, passionate love to you.”
“Here and now,” Magnus gasped out, staring up at her with wide, adoring eyes.
Astrid thought a moment, then nodded.
“I allow and approve your first executive decision as the kings of my land,” she told them, adding with a raised hand, “Do proceed with your well-conceived plan.”