A Subs Lament
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The early winter chill was heavy upon the land as soldiers charged at each other from all sides with weapons drawn and the battle-lust thick in their blood. Folkvar swung his axe with demonic precision, cleaving through armor, flesh and bone of his fellow Norsemen.
Prowess and the ability to dominate the other tribes would be found on the battlefield and under new leadership, the tribes would again be united. Treachery and murder had deposed the previous chieftain and now the edge of a northern blade would decide his replacement.
A worthy adversary turned upon being hit with Folkvar’s axe and fell a top of it, ripping it from his hands. Deprived of his weapon, he lunged at the next attacker wrestling away a spear and turning it on its previous owner.
The din and clamor of weapons over the war-cries filled the air amid the steam rising from the freshly bloodied wounds of the dying. A towering hulk of a man with red locks and a full beard brought his sword down on the unarmed Folkvar with a terrible force from overhead.
Only the metal grieves that covered his forearm kept the blow from sending him to Valhalla’s gates. A second and third strike were turned away before the armor split and bit in to Folkvar’s skin but at that strike his hand found his attackers wrist and crushed it in his powerful grip.
The sword fell and Folkvar sent a rising knee into the redhead’s solar-plexus, sending him to his back. It took only a moment to retrieve the sword and drive it in to his enemy’s throat before twisting it to dislodge the head.
To his left, Folkvar looked to see Gudrun retracting her sword from one man’s chest before using it to cleave the skull of another. Her howl, like the piercing screech of a bird of prey had drawn his attention. Admiring her fury and precision, he took his battle won sword and charged to her side, discarding the ruined grieve as he did so.
Gudrun was magnificent as she slew one after another of any unfortunate enough to cross her path. From unseen origin, a spear bit clean through her armor, flesh and bone but the shock of this weapon staring at her from the opening in her chest was not enough to slow her onslaught of warriors.
Even as Folkvar cried out in agony at the death blow he witnessed taking his wife, he could not help but swell with pride at her unchecked valor. A few warriors attempted to bar his path from his dying wife but they were cut down like stalks of wheat. Painted in the blood and bits of gore of his fallen adversaries, he reached her side as she fell to the ground.
Her glazing eyes looked up at her husbands face, pressing her palm into his jaw in a last gesture of love before she fell through the veil of Midgard. Folkvar kissed her lips before rising in silent vow that she would be avenged.
I awoke in a cold sweat that was too frightening to accept, my heart was broken and my veins were filled a fiery rage, a cold shower later I was still shaking. After my first cup of coffee I started to feel a bit more grounded and when I saw the good morning text on my phone that I had become accustomed to receiving over the last few weeks, a smile came and melted away my lingering fear.
Through electronic messages we had remained in almost constant contact, posing questions to learn more about each other, expressing emotional attachment for one another, and occasionally teasing with hints at our sexual appetites. It was an ever building fire that we stoked with words and kisses but had restrained ourselves in the effort to make the culmination of our passion that much sweeter.
Her kiss was like no other, soft and yielding as rose petals with all the heat and passion born from need. Our hands served to draw each other in deeper as if we were both frightened that the other may try to pull away at any moment.
After a while my hand found its way to the decadent heat between her legs where I rubbed and pressed against to the sound of her appreciative whimpers. One night she was wearing a skirt, so to show her what we were waiting for I lifted it and kissed her pubic mouth with all the enthusiasm I had previously shown.
That night I kissed her more deeply than ever before, my lips pressed into her nether-mouth, my tongue dancing over the soft and sweet folds as if only the nectar from her Venus Mound could satiate the maddening hunger that burned within. I sucked and licked and kissed between the growls that escaped from the back of my throat and gave away my enthusiasm.
She twisted and writhed, giving herself over to my kiss and muttering half-understood praises between panting moans. She pulled my hair and rocked my head against her thrusting pubis. Her moans increased in time with my growls as I pressed deeper and deeper within her. My tongue dipped and lapped and flicked savoring the sweet and tangy flavor of her deepest flesh.
When her screams and change of breath told me that she had come I relented the ferocity of my kiss but was reluctant to cease it altogether. I gently caressed her hips and legs with lingering fingertips that were far too happy with the joy they’d found. She drew my attention with proclamations of my expertise and I found my way into a parallel embrace, losing myself in the hunger of her eyes.
Laying together, dressed in little more than our desire for each other, we aimlessly explored the contours of our bodies. Once her hand found its way around my erect shaft, she held it in a firm grip that squeezed and stroked but never let go. I kissed her neck and her shoulders as she worked me into a slow frenzy.
I wrestled with the animalistic hunger that pawed under my skin, itching to get out. In a single decisive moment she mounted me, placing my dick within her dripping pussy with ferocious ownership. She fucked me then, bearing down on me with parted lips and determined thrusts. I’d never felt anything like her before, her velvet glove gripped my cock like a vice, her hips met mine in a hypnotic rhythm that wove a spell, and she rode me like my cum was her only chance of salvation…
Amid our rocking and panting, she whispered her intentions into the dark while clawing at my torso in reckless abandon. I kneaded and pulled at her ass as if it would somehow let me in deeper and I cried out her name mixed with some base demands that she continue what she was doing to me.
When it happened it was as if every cell my body poured some of itself into her. I growled, moaned, and shook as she delighted in her conquest of me. Looking up at her self-satisfied grin as she bit her lower lip, I did the only thing I had strength for, I pulled her down to kiss her.
We fell asleep in each other’s arms, tracing invisible lines across our naked skin with our fingertips. I watched her chest rise and fall with her breath before drifting off myself with the realization that I was now and forever completely in love with this woman.
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It started when I was 16 years old. David was a few months older than me, and we both attended Martin Luther King High School in Holyoke. It was late May, and school was due out in two weeks. We had summer jobs lined up with David's dad, a landscaping contractor in Holyoke. Since the beginning of April, we'd been working Saturdays and some Sundays. The day it started was a backbreaker. We both were seriously dragging, me especially, who weighed like 113 lbs sopping wet. I was 4" shorter...
The Thing On The Moor By Paul1954 Hayes, West London April 18th, 2001 - 8:05am "Bollocks, fucking bollocks" cursed an upset Michael Harrison as he held a tissue to his bleeding lip. An unexpectedly cold night had frozen his car lock and he hadn't been able to get his key to turn it. He couldn't be bothered to go back indoors and fetch the de-icer and had just bent down to blow some hot breath into the lock, hoping that it would be enough to loosen it. As he should have...
(See parts 1 to 3 first!)Over the next few days my imagination ran riot. I found myself thinking about what the various men had said about what turned them on, and discussions about their relationships with their wives and their general lack of a fulfilling sex-life. The more I thought about it the more I could see the situation from their point of view and the more I relished my role in making it a life-changing experience for them all – and for me. I played with the stories that John and...
Bonnie had changed to her sleepwear – white T-shirt and blue shorts, and came into the spare room with a pile of blankets for her brother. “Goodnight.” She said with a knowing smile. She leaned forward and kissed him. Their kissed lingered a little, and he pulled her upper lip outward slightly. She went to bed where her boyfriend lay, Jeff went to the living room, sat on the couch, and watched TV. Bonnie lay beside Jack, deep in thought. She could feel her brother’s semen leak out of her...
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