Message-ID: <7535eli$9801191718@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7535.txt>
From: "Marsupalami" <ladyzak@celticfire.com>
Subject: story-Departure
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <AQIw.26$Ga7.53201@news1.atl.bellsouth.net>




--
Celtic Readings
http://www.celticfire.com/readings/index.htm
Celtic Thistle
http://www.geocities.com/SiliconValley/Park/1299
Departure
 For a month now, Sigurd had enjoyed Brynhild's sensual delights, but it was
time
to find a wise king to give his warrior's service to.  He looked to the
east, and knew the
kingdom he sought was there.  Odin's magic had kept them both warm and fed.
Sigurd
had claimed Brynhild's body many times over as she had claimed him from the
first he
found her.  A reputation was something he needed to build outside this
place.  It was not
something that could be found on this mountain.
 Brynhild saw her lover gazing to the east with a very thoughtful look in
his eyes.
She came up to him and wrapped her silken arms about him.  "What ails you?"
she asked.
He turned about and looked into her sea-blue eyes.
 "Princess, we have to part, but only for a short time.  Freya will bring us
back
together when she sees we are ready."
 "I know the ways of the warrior.  Many battle fields I have seen in my
service as a
Valkyrie.  You must find a lord to serve.  I know the gods will be generous.
We  will be
together soon."
 "Such understanding.  I see why Odin let you have your choice even when he
condemned you."
 "We should make our last night a celebration, not a mourning.  We will
feast on
the finest fruits, the choicest meats, and the richest wine, and when our
bellies are full, we
will indulge in another feast of each other."
 "No dessert could be sweeter."
 "Come, let us gather what we need."  Brynhild lifted the hem of her
cornflower-
blue tunic, and  skipped down to the storehouse that had been made for them.
It held
preserved meats and fish.  There was a rich sausage which was called
cervalat in Sigurd's
native language.  There were apples, pears, grapes, and berries.  Rich,
sharp cheeses, and
some dark red wine and amber ale to wash it down with.  It was simple fare,
but more
than adequate.
 Sigurd took a cloth and spread it on the ground, and Brynhild set the food
upon it.
She filled a drinking horn with the rich wine, and handed it to Sigurd.  She
then drew
another for herself.  The vintage was dry, yet flavourful, and it flooded
their senses with
warmth.  They indulged slowly in the feast before them, savoring the simple
hedonism.
 The wine filled Brynhild with warmth and bravado.  She wanted no more of
this
meal at this time.  She drained the drinking horn, and set it aside.  Her
eyes had darkened
to a rich, dark blue, almost like midnight, and Sigurd knew she was ready
for passion he
was more than ready to supply.
 "We can eat later," said Sigurd.
 "We should.  We will need this food to supply us later.  I plan to have you
many
time this night," declared Brynhild.
 "In many ways?"
 "We shall see..."
 No urging was needed.  Quickly, they removed the simple clothing they wore,
and
were not ashamed, not even cold.  "Let me imprint myself to you, my love, so
you will not
be tempted by another pretty face whilst on you travels," said Brynhild.
 "How would you do so?" asked Sigurd.
 Brynhild answered with a slow, sweep of her silky, blond tresses over his
chest,
then down to his abdomen, over his thighs, knees, calves, and around his
feet.  She
traveled the same path back, but stopped atop his phallus, and swirled her
satiny hair
about it.  Sigurd bucked slightly at this new sensation.  She had touched
him only with her
hair! Such glorious hair that it could make a man like him so vulnerable and
curious.
What would she do next?
 She pulled away, and met him face to face, and planted a simple kiss on his
lips
that still tasted of wine.  "Did you like that?" she asked.
 "Very much."
 She toyed with one of Sigurd's shoulder-length golden locks.  "Would you do
the
same?"
 "If can get as pleasure as I, I would."
 "I shall try."  Sigurd followed her lead, and let his hair flow over the
same path on
her body as she had done to him.  When he reach her mound of Freya, he took
a small
lock of hair, and ran it through the slit.  She wiggled as it slid over her
pink jewel, and her
juices started to flow.  Sigurd took advantage of this position to bring her
to readiness.
He parted her enough to see the jewel, and teased at it with his tongue, as
she had done to
his phallus many times since that first day.  She tasted sweet, for she was
ripe with want.
She ground her hips against him as he continued this assault upon the core
of her, until she
could not contain the sound from within.  "Dearest Sigurd!  What madness has
Loki
placed on you!  Ohhh!  Such wickedness!  More! More!"
 He continued until she crested into her own world.  She came back quickly
to him.
"Take me!  Such is the desire I have!"
 "Not until you have done such to me.  I promise, my seed will only spill
where you
want it to."
 "I will do so, but only until I can take so much.  Can you not see how my
juices
flow hot for you?  Loki has put a madness on you."
 "Even Loki would appreciate such lovely lips about him?  Am I not right?"
 "I would not know.  I am not in the habit of giving the gods such favours,
but if it
will make you sate me quickly, I shall do as you ask.  Do not be surprised
if my hands
move down to do the same.  I seek pleasure the same as you, and I can have
more of it."
 'If you must..."
 Brynhild drew herself down to his phallus, and enveloped him with her warm
mouth.  Her teeth lightly grazed upon the hard flesh, and her tongue tickled
that secret
place upon it that few knew of.  Sigurd groaned when she did this, such a
delight it was.
She tried not to smile while doing her ministrations, even though, she knew
that she was
pleasing him very well.    She slid up and down upon him, making him jolt at
times as she
drew upon him.  'Turn on your side," she whispered.  Sigurd did as
instructed, and she
continued to tease him with her lips and tongue.  This gave him a full view
of her lush
body as she did as she had promised, and moved her hand to her sex.  He
watched as she
played with the pick folds and the hard, pink button which was a woman's
most
pleasurable place.  Watching her give herself such delight as she gave it to
him at the same
time was a double pleasure.  She arched back as the climax took her, and
drew him in so
deeply, he wondered if she would let go.  She pulled away to catch her
breath, and the
timing was very good, for Sigurd thought he might lose his seed within her
heavenly
mouth if she had not stopped.  He had promised that he would not.
 He pulled her up and turned her over.  He reached down to her core, and
found
her very ready.  "I see you have no fear of being wanton."
 "I never have.  Fill me now, else I die of want!"
 Sigurd said nothing, and drove into her slick warmth that awaited him.
Brynhild
clenched herself about him, then let him go, and repeated the process,
urging him to
plunder the riches within her.  She placed her strong legs over his broad
shoulders, and he
plunging into her,  over and over, taking her to the top of many a
hedonistic mountain,
only to plummet , then bring her up again.  She found herself dizzy, flush
from the many
times she came to a climax, then was pushed over the edge.  Her golden hair
was wet with
her sweat, and her body glistened with it from the actions.  Sigurd rode
harder and harder
until he finally met her upon one of those many mountains he had taken her
to.  They
plummeted together into an ebbing sea of satisfaction.
 "This is our last time until you have made your name known to the world,"
said
Brynhild.  "That is why you were looking to the east."
 "The kingdom in which I will make my name is there.  I shall be back soon,"
said
Sigurd.
 "Not soon enough."
 They dressed quickly as not to catch a chill, and Sigurd made preparations
for his
departure.  Within the hour, he was upon Greyfell, and riding to the east.
Odin came for
his fallen valkyrie to take her home to Lymdale.  She was very quiet, but
her blue eyes
were hopeful.  The world's greatest warrior was to be hers forever...



-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>