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Message-ID: <62926asstr$1393323001@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: John D Stories <johndstories@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Viking Pussy (MF, historical, short)
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Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2014 05:10:01 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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This fiction was written for the darker erotic writing meme, A Darker 
Flame, and also in situ on my site at 
http://www.johndstories.co.uk/a-darker-flame-viking-pussy/

His sword clattered onto the stone floor, looking at the 
eighteen-year-old wrapped in her warm furs. "David? Shouldn't you be at 
the battle?"

"It's over. He sent me awa'," the young warrior shouted indignantly. "He 
didn't want me at the pillaging!" His eyes sparked angrily as his thick 
blood-stained coat fell to the floor. "Your father made me walk back 
with Aemir. No horses."

Ingrid pulled the fur blankets tightly around her shoulders, watching 
her favourite combatant from her father's army ruffle his hair. "Was 
fifty Hebridian for every one of us," he barked, massaging the top of 
his left arm and smearing blood onto his hands. "I slay two hundred of 
the traitors. And I ..." He threw his stained shirt against the wall in 
anger, sitting down on the ramshackle bed in the corner of the imposing 
building. "There'll be a feast tonight."

She smiled, massaging the tops of his shoulders with her firm hands. "A 
feast," she cooed, and kissed his neck, allowing the fur blanket to fall 
from her body. "You couldn't go to a wee feast without some pillaging 
first." He grunted, as Olivir's youngest daughter pressed her fingers 
into his muscle, causing him to groan softly. "Nice?"

David snorted derisively; the teenage beauty pushed her bare breasts 
against his back and slid her hands down his body, pressing against his 
animal-skin kilt and wrapping her fingers around his stiffening cock. 
"You could do some pillaging here," she whispered, her voice quivering 
with lust.

He gulped; the consequences of fucking the youngest daughter of Olivir 
would be certain death; he had led his army to murdering several 
thousand of his enemies and would not blink twice at crushing any man 
for plundering the purity of his favourite daughter.

"Be like it was last week," she promised. "Or the week before." Her 
fingers pressed against his firm manhood, causing him to shudder. "Every 
other man is getting lots of Scottish pussy right now," she teased. 
"Probably seven or eight women deep. Sliding in and out of their 
desperate holes, as they claim their reward for the victory. For the 
slaughter of the nackets and cowards."

He groaned, wriggling on the bed, as her hands slid up and down his 
cock. His mind whirred. "Ingrid," he croaked. "We ..."

"You've earned it," she suggested. "You deserve to claim your reward. 
And if my father takes it from you, you should claim it from him. From 
his family. You must have a prize. You must ravage a young maiden and ..."

"I couldn't."

"You must. Or Odin won't let you into Valhalla." She pressed her bare 
flesh against his back while running her left hand through his chest 
hair. "And this cock deserves some Scottish pussy. You ..."

"Ingrid," he cried, leaping to his feet, and ripping his hand away from 
him. "Tease me and ..." His eyes focused on the naked girl, her plentiful 
pubic hair winking suggestively at him, and without thinking of the dire 
aftermath if they were caught, slid his kilt to his feet, and grabbed 
the young lady's ankles, prising them apart.

She whimpered as his cock slid along her sodden crack, groaning as he 
lifted her ankles onto his shoulder. He grunted, ramming deep into her 
as she squealed with every thrust. Her body rocked, shaken by the strong 
thighs driving his cock into her teenage pussy.

He watched her heaving breasts, and glazed eyes, he heard her exited 
mews and desperate squeals and savoured her clenching pussy squeezing 
his intruding dick.

He pressed his strong hand on her breast-bone, leaning over the writhing 
woman as the young warrior ravished her mercilessly and passionately. 
She panted, delighting in the uncontrollable lust of her brave warrior 
as her body burtled towards the mystical explosion of ecstasy she was 
desperate to experience again. Her stretched cunt twitched and tingled, 
desperately sensitive and flowing with hedonistic lust with every thrust 
of her beau's firm cock.

She howled, yelling promises to Freyja and other goddesses, as her body 
convulsed around his rampant masculinity. Her orgasm bubbled slowly to 
the surface: her body tossed aside like a longship in an Atlantic storm 
as her climax overpowered her senses with extraordinary sensations.

David groaned, pressing his cock deep into her unprotected cunt, and 
with spasming legs around his ears, came into her soft teenage pussy.

She smiled at him, leaning back on his haunches. "Don't know why you 
needed to go plundering," she teased. "You have everything here!"

"I'll get killed if Olivir knows," he muttered as the gates to the 
building thundered open. David swore, frantically dressing alongside the 
young Viking lady, and they hurried to the imposing hall.

"A thousand victories," Olivir shouted, toasting his success amongst his 
clanspeople, soldiers and several severed heads of their enemies in the 
packed room. "David!" He shouted as the young man joined the revelry. 
"Get him a drink!" David forced a smile as a flagon of alcohol was 
thrust towards him.

David nodded.

"I nearly forgot." He roared, taking his sword and swinging it wildly 
against the neck of Aemir. "'E fucked my daughter without a wedding 
first," he shouted to his assembled band of soldiers watching silently, 
and stared at David holding his drink. The Earl looked towards the 
youngest of his three young ladies at the long table and picked up the 
severed head, dripping with blood, before tossing it to the nervous 
young man. "David. Put that on the gate!" He bellowed. "Let that be a 
reminder to you all."

Ingrid shook her head as David left the room. "Dad? Did you have to do 
that?"

"He's a Sassenach," the fearless leader shouted. "No loss."

"But David'll never ask me if you keep scaring him," she thundered 
angrily, and crossed her arms. "And when can I go to the battles?"

"When you have a husband there," he joked amongst rowdy laughter. "And 
where's my grandchildren."

Ingrid patted her belly. "Brewing," she said with a smirk. "Maybe."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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