A NOTE FROM DR. JOSEPH LOCKLEAR Ph.d
Professor of classical studies at the University of Dublin

The following story is based on a fragmentary passage from an epic poem in a recently discovered Norse saga. The events in question relate to the arrival of several Viking longboats in Ireland, at Loch Feabhail, in the early 11th century, and their efforts to seize control of a village near what is today the city of Derry. The passage, though brief, is highly erotic ("Honey flowed between the young girl's legs," etc.; such eroticism is not uncommon in the sagas). The following is a modernized retelling of the passage by Chris Hailey, an erotic story writer.

"Hullo," the man said, in a broken attempt at the Irish language.

The girl quickly gathered the bedsheets in her hands, pulling them around her neck as she sat up against the pillows. She looked at the man towering above her; he was large, as tall as a horse, broad in the shoulders, limbs like the trunks of trees. He had a flowing lionmane of thick blond hair and a beard to match. He wore a leather breastplate, though his muscular arms were bare, and he carried a broadsword in his hand so large that it was nearly as long as the girl was tall.

Despite the unexpected apperance of a warrior in her bedchamber, her eyes betrayed not fear, but anger. "Who are you?" she demanded, in the Norse tongue. "What are you doing in my bedchamber?"

The man was surprised to hear the girl speak his own language, and so fluently. "I am..." he stammered. "We are..." His words caught in part at the unexpected surprise of being addressed so curtly in his own tongue, but also in part because he began to observe the girl in bed in front of him. She was a child, though only just, or perhaps no longer. She had the auburn hair of so many of the beaitiful women of this land, dark and shining in the mid-morning sunlight cast through the window of her bedroom. Her face was pale, accented with blush; her eyes a deep and impressive green.

He felt his member stiffen at the sight of her, and a thought now entered his head--he has a sword in his hand and another in his pants; she can choose which one she prefers to slice her.

That thought caused him to take a step closer to the bed, raising the sword. The girl did not seem to be intimidated. "What are you doing here?" she asked again, in the same demanding tone.

"My soldiers and I," he said, "are to clear the houses of people and weapons."

"Your soldiers? Are you the chieftain of your tribe then?"

"No, I am a captain. I serve Svartling the Great."

"Oh," she said, a sound of disappointment or dismissiveness in her voice. "Only a captain? You look like you might be a chieftain."

The man was cross to hear those words from her. Did she just insult my rank? But rather than scold her, or worse, he found himself quite unexpectedly falling into a defensive response. "I have risen high among Svartling's warriors, and he is an old man, and I hope to replace him as chieftain when he dies."

The girl cocked her head slightly to the side and considered this for a moment. "Yes, you should," she said. "You are a specimen warrior. You should be a chieftain."

The man felt his chest swell with pride at her words.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Tollof," he answered, "of Harlingsvelt, son of Drakehram."

"Well met, Tollof of Harlingsvelt, specimen warrior and captain-though-not-yet-chieftain. I am Maeve, daughter of Colum, granddaughter of the leader of our clan and the chief of this village. And you best not lay a hand on me, Tollof-Viking."

Tollof laughed. "Well met as well, Maeve the brave, daughter of Colum, proud-talker. I have here in my hand a sword," he said, lifting his blade slightly for emphasis, "and here a rapier." With his free hand he grabbed his crotch. "If I wish to mount you, then mount you I shall."

"You will not," she said with matter-of-fact defiance. "I'll not have the bastard child of any man, and certainly not a man who is lesser in rank than my own grandfather."

Tollof sputtered in shock at how the girl spoke to him. But when he managed a reply, it was more constrained. "You are but a child. Fret not the consequence, you are too young to have my bastard child."

The girl looked offended. "You mistake me. It's true, I have only twelve years, but I have bled, and I have tits big enough to feed a babe."

"That appeals to me," the man said, emphasizing his point by reaching to the buckle of his trousers. "Now we have done enough talking, Maeve-who-has-bled. Remove your smock."

"Come no closer to me, fool of a man. If you make the attempt, I will geld you."

"Geld me?" He laughed at the absurdity of her insolence, but not without some uncertainty as to whether this girl might actually be brave enough, and foolish enough, to attempt to carry out her threat.

"It would be a shame, would it not," she continued, "for you to return to your wife without your stones? Though I suspect she might like you better without them."

"My wife? Do not speak ill of my wife, Maeve-brat! For she died giving birth to my daughter two years past!"

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed in a suddenly sympathetic tone. "Your poor wife! I am grieved to hear it! And your poor daughter, does she still live?"

"She does."

"But the child has no mother?"

"She does not."

"Then the solution is at hand," Maeve said.

"The solution?"

"Yes. I admit your rank is low, but if you speak the truth that you will soon be chieftain, that is acceptable."

"My rank?" Tollof was visibly confused.

The girl looked impatient with him. "Your daughter needs a mother, yes?"

"Yes..."

"And you will mount me?"

"I will."

"And you wish to keep your stones?"

"I..."

"Then there you have it," Maeve said, crossing her arms in triumph. "We shall wed tomorrow or the next--"

"We shall...??"

"--and then you shall have me as you wish--"

"We shall what?"

"Wed, Tollof-the-Deaf. We shall wed. Despite the difference in our stations, I will marry you. And then the girl--what is her name??--will have a mother, and surely little brothers and sisters soon enough, and you will be a chieftain and I a chieftain's wife."

"Ishild."

"Mmm?"

"Ishild is my daughter's name. It was her mother's."

"Oh!" Maeve said with pious pathos. "Ishild‐daughter! That is so beautiful. She shall be my daughter now and I will love her as much as your first wife did before she died!"

Against his better judgment, Tollof smiled. He found the girl's enthusiasm infectious.

"Now," the girl announced with a voice of commanding clarity, "we must go and find my grandfather and tell him of our plans." With that, she bounded from her bed and landed on her feet with the grace of a doe, gathering a dress from a nearby table and tossing it on the bed. She then grasped the sides of her sleeping smock and quickly lifted it over her head. Beneath, she wore nothing. Tollof stood still, reverentially admiring her naked body; pale young breasts, taut and round, lifting pink womanly nipples for his admiration. And between her legs, a tangle of auburn curls.

She gave him a sly smile. "You examine me like breedstock at the market." She dropped her sleeping smock to the floor and held out her arms. "Do I meet with your expectations? Will you make the purchase, cow-herd?"

He laughed. While her striking demeanor had initially unnerved him, he was gaining his composure now. "A man deserves a kiss from his future bride," he said.

"Then you do wish to make the purchase! Come and get your kiss, Captain."

The man strode forward and took the girl in his arms, holding her naked body tight against him, and planted his lips against hers. When his hands moved to her breasts, she broke their kiss. "I told you they are big enough to feed a babe, did I not?" she said. Squeezing them, he leaned in kiss her again, but she moved her head back to prevent him, at the same time pressing her belly into him.

"I can feel your rapier against my thigh," she said. He pressed into her yet harder, and she reached down. "Your blade is stiff, and seeks to conquer something soft and warm and wet with honey. But alas! He'll not be unsheathed between my thighs until our wedding night."

"Your lips are sweet, but their words sting," he admonished her.

"You are the one with a stinger, Tollof the Hard." She squeezed his cock. "And I assure you, my lips do more than sweetly talk."

"Oh? What else?"

"What I do for boys my age, when they press their stinger to my thigh; I kiss them here--" she squeezed again "--until they spout molten in my mouth, and then their rapier loses its edge. And so do I disarm the neighbor boys, when they seek my pot of honey."

"These boys are lucky."

"Yes, they are. Their stones are satisfied, and they escape without a gelding."

"No; they are lucky because they have found a way to stop your incessant chatter."

The girl laughed. "Since you will marry me, you best get used to my talking."

"I'd rather get used to the other things you do with your lips."

"Oh? Does the warrior wish to be disarmed by the lady's mouth?"

"Lady? Is there a lady among us? I see only a pattering girl who needs to have her mouth stopped."

"Do you always woo your women with such romantic words?"

"I need not woo you; apparently we are already betrothed. Now I will determine if you are as good with your lips as you claim, or if your words are empty bragging."

"My lips will brag," the girl said, "but they'll not be empty."

And so the girl Maeve fell to her knees before the Viking captain, and opened her mouth while he opened his pants. Then she took him in her hands, and between her lips, and she quickly proved that her words were not mere talk, that despite her young age, she was an experienced practitioner. The man took hold of her head and began to rock his hips in rhythm with her stroking hands and sucking lips.

And the fire of Musphelheim boiled in his loins, and he lifted his head and bellowed, and she sucked and stroked, coaxing him to release into her mouth, and like a volcano he erupted, and though she shuttered in shock, he held her in place and completed his carnal act.

On her knees, she looked up at him when he was finished, and swallowed, and smiled. "So much seed!" she said, rolling her tongue over her lips. "Much more than the boys."

"I'm not a boy," he said, and as to emphasize the point, he put his hands under her shoulders and effortlessly lifted her to her feet like she was weightless in his strong arms.

"No, you most certainly are not." Standing now, she picked up her dress and slipped it on. "And I find that I am glad that I did not have to geld you after all. We shall go now and find my grandfather."

Peace was brokered, trade agreements reached, handshakes exchanged. Flagons of mead were raised and toasts were made. Alliances, guilds, friendships were forged, and partnerships consummated, both in commerce, and in bed. And one marriage was celebrated--the granddaughter of the village leader and a Viking captain forming a lasting bond that would cement the two peoples together forever.

There was dancing and music and bawdy song at the wedding, and Tollof's jug was never allowed to empty, and his bride drank wine until she was giggly like a little girl, and forward, oh so forward, her hand under the table stroking her husband through his pants while her grandfather made a toast.

"Do you wish to mount me, sire?" she whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek as the old man's oath droned on, now several minutes long.

"What's this?" he said to his wife, "shall I throw you on the table and fuck you in front of your mother and my men?"

"Such language!" she said. "You treat your wife like a strumpet! Will you always speak to me this way?"

"Wife, whore, it makes no difference."

"Sir!" she said loudly, loud enough that it caused her grandfather to interrupt his toast with a cough. She blushed, as if demur, when all the eyes in the room turned to her. The old man continued, but now her father stood, and walked to him, and the old man understood and ended the toast. Flagons were upended around the tables into the mouths of drunk men, and then her father spoke.

"To my new son!"

"Hurrah!"

Svartling, the Viking chieftain stood to join him. "And to the most beautiful girl in all of Ireland!"

"Hurrah! Hurrah!"

"But now, my friends," Svartling continued, "good Tollof is a patient man, but we would try the patience of your Christ with our endless toasts, and your Christ, as I understand the tale, had no such beautiful woman as Tollof has to take to bed tonight. Tollof, we shall continue the party in your absence, but you and your bride must go."

Tollof stood to speak, but as he did, so did his wife. He said a few words, to general cheer, then put his hand on his young bride's back to lead her from the hall. But Maeve raised her wine glass, and spoke herself:

"Thank you, my grandfather," she said, lifting her glass in the direction of the village elder, "and"--lifting her glass to the Viking chieftain as well-- "thank you, noble Svartling, for your kind words. You call me the prettiest girl in all of Ireland, but this is an untruth! Have you not met my mother?" Cheers rang out among the gathered, and toasts to the mother of the bride. "But you, Svartling," Maeve continued unabated, "you, I know, are the second most handsome man to come from Vikingland." More cheers and shouts of "Tollof! Hooray!" from the crowd.

The girl waited for the boisterous crowd to quiet down, and then addressed them all: "Now I find that the chieftain prods me to leave this fine gathering of friends, and go to a private party, where there will be much more prodding." Cheers and laughter all around. "Shall I go? Shall I give this man my bridely sacrifice?" She looked at Tollof, who nodded with a smile while the crowd rang out with cheers of "Yes! Yes! Go!"

"Do not misunderstand me, kind sirs and gentleladies," she said, her green eyes shining as she looked out over the crowd, "my heart is full of love for my new husband. I only fear what else I will be full of before the night is done! And my husband's heart is full of love as well, and longs for me, but his heart is not the only thing that's full, and the other thing is even longer!" More cheers and laughter rang through the hall.

"This Viking warrior has bravely fought in many battles, but his sword grows rusty for lack of use. And so I must wish you all good night, though do not bid that I sleep well, for I fear that I shall be sword-cleaning until the cock crows and it is morn."

The crowd roared its approval as Tollof finally lead the girl away, a strong hand on her narrow back to steady her wine-awkward steps.

"I think I drank a little too much wine," she said as she sat down on Tollof's bed.

"Oh, you think so?"

She giggled. "I can't believe the things I said. In front of my grandfather! My mother!! You must regret your decision to wed me."

"No, my wife, I do not. I like a feisty lady."

"Feisty? Doesn't that mean 'enthusiastic?'"

"In a way, yes."

"Then you mistake the meaning of my words, sir. It was not enthusiasm!"

"Oh? What then? Was it mockery?"

"Here we use the phrase, 'gentle ribbing,'" she said with a little smile, feigning innocence.

"You may be a gentlelady," he said, reaching down and putting his hands on her sides, "but I am not a gentle man." Despite his words, he softly ran his fingers up her ribs.

She giggled as he tickled her. "No, you are a warrior," she said, "and I am your conquest!"

"The conquest is over," he answered. "You are my wife now. And a wife must be punished for mocking her husband." Suddenly his fingers gripped, and effortlessly he flipped her over, onto her belly on his bed.

"Wait!" she hollered, but he'd already lifted her wedding dress and pulled her knickers down. A large, rough hand came down forcefully onto a pale buttock.

"Owww!" she responded, lunging forward to escape the next blow. But he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back and swatted her ass again.

"Is this what I can expect in our marriage bed?" she asked. "A man who spanks me like I'm a child, and not a lady?"

"Only when you disrespect your husband."

"Then I pledge that I'll not disrespect you," she said. He let her go, and she sprang to her feet. Standing above him on the bed, she laughed. "Not very often, at least!" He reached out to grab her again, but she stepped aside. "And look at how you disrespect me!" She pointed down between his legs. "Do you always get so stiff, when you spank a little girl?"

"Little girl? You told me that you've bled and that your tits are big enough to feed a babe."

She paused, momentarily outmaneuvered. "I am a little girl, nonetheless," was the best she could answer. If it weren't for the wine, she'd have had a sharper retort.

"I've seen the hair between your legs," he answered. "Yours is a woman's cunt."

"Oh? Is that what makes you so stiff? Would you like to see her again?" She slowly lifted her dress, revealing her tangle of auburn curls. But then she shielded it with a hand. "That's all, just a peek. You're too disrespectful for more than that."

"I'll show her great respect," he said, and he reached out and put his hands on her hips. She did not step away this time, but let him pull her to him. He leaned forward and nuzzled into her auburn curls, then his tongue slipped out, and she let out a soft moan as he licked.

"Is this... is this how you show respect to... a 'woman's cunt'?" she panted.

"It is," he answered from between her now-bowing legs.

"Then I hope you'll show her respect every day!"

"I will," he said, lifting his head and looking up at her, "though not always with my tongue."

She put her hands on his head, to push him back in. "What else then? What else will you use?"

"My cock," he answered, between more licks.

"As to that, I've seen what he can do. Your tongue suffices."

The man sat back, laughing. "Oh no, you'll get much more than my tongue tonight, although if you won't stop talking, I'll surely get my fill of yours."

She stepped back. "You are so cruel! You'll not get your nasty cock in my sweet honey-font tonight!"

And with that, she jumped off the bed. He lunged after her, but she dashed to the other side of the bed, giggling.

He sighed. "I must remember to not let you drink so much wine," he said, stepping from the bed. "It makes you silly."

She giggled more, bouncing from one foot to the other. "Silly like a little girl?"

"Yes, just like a little girl."

"I am not a little girl!" she declared. "I have bled! I have tits big enough to--"

"Yes, so you tell me oftenly."

"I show you oftenly as well!" With that, she pulled her dress over her head, and the twelve year old bride was naked, her bosom heaving excitedly. "Do you see?" she said, cupping her hands under her pale round breasts and holding them up, so that her stiff pink nipples faced right at the man. "Are these the tits of a little girl?"

"They are not," he answered, walking around the bed towards her and unbuckling his pants as he did.

"Oh, so now you say I am a woman." She stepped back, retreating to match his advance.

"I already said you were a woman."

"You said, if I recall, that I have a woman's cunt, but also that I am a silly girl. You can't seem to make up your mind!"

"My mind is made up now." His pants fell to the ground, along with his underclothes, and he pulled his shirt off, and both of them were naked now.

"Your mind isn't the only thing that's up!" she said, staring at his cock, standing out a half a foot from his body.

He continued walking towards her, and she continued her retreat, but now only half the pace of his advance, and he was on her quickly. He took her in his arms, and kissed her.

She laughed. "Do you remember, when we first met, how I felt your cock against my thigh? He's there again." She reached down and ran her fingers along his shaft. "He seems to like my thighs."

"They are fine thighs," he said, "and they lead to something even finer."

"And he's a fine cock, though much too big. I'm afraid that I'm too dainty for him."

"He'll fit."

"But how?" She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "He'll tear me open."

"Are you frightened, my love?" His voice, and his demeanor, had changed, along with hers.

Looking up at him with eyes still wide, she nodded. "Will you... will you be gentle with me?"

"I will," he reassured.

She gave a feeble smile. "Then I'll be brave."

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bed, and laid her down, and climbed on top of her. Her chest was heaving, deep breaths lifting her breast into the air. When he reached down between their legs, she turned her head to the side and tightly closed her eyes.

There is a time, when a young virgin has given in, and the man knows that her innocence is his to take. The man waits, watching her, wanting to memorize the last moments of her childhood. Then his cock moves into place and his head parts the wet flesh of her lips, and burrows in, and she is his.

Though her husband was as gentle as he could be, Maeve was crying when he entered her, tears rolling down her soft, blush-red cheeks. But then she felt him moving, his hips raising and falling, his breath matching their pace, his cock sliding inside her, going deeper each time his hips moved forward.

He is being gentle! she thought. He does love me! And that thought filled her heart with warmth, and that warmth excited her, caught her breath, and she felt herself give into his love entirely. She fell in love with him. And as she did, she realized that her cunt had found a lover, too, and she opened to him, and sweet honey flowed between the young girl's legs, and her hips began to move in time with his.

She smiled up at her man now, and he smiled down at her. And then she grinned. "I like this," she said. "I think I could get used to this."

He laughed, the merry laugh of a happy man. And she was filled with pride and warmth that she was making her new husband happy, and her hips began to move with even more enthusiasm.

Tollof was surprised at how easy his entrance was. Perhaps it was because he was more experienced now, but with his first wife, though for their first time she had been three years older then than Maeve was now, it had been a struggle for him to take her maidenhead. His new wife's defense was weak, and he tore it aside with little effort. Nevertheless, she cried her virgin tears for him, though perhaps as much from fear and nervousness as pain, and unlike with his first wife, he did not enjoy the tears, but felt pity for her. It was over quickly, though. A minute later, she was smiling and cooing and saying sweet things to him, and she was open and wet to his penetration and enthusiastically joining on his movement. And he knew then that he had chosen well. His new wife would be a fine lover. He missed his first wife, terribly so at times, and had been so sad for the two years since her passing. But he had finally found happiness again, in Maeve's sharp and witty conversation, in her deep, thoughtful eyes, and in the warmth and comfort of the home she offered him between her legs.

These were the thoughts that washed through his brain as he made love to her that first time; not mere lust for a fine young girl, though there was that aplenty, but something altogether different, something even holy--the tender love of a husband for his new bride.

He did not want their first sweet copulation to ever end, although his cock viewed the matter quite differently, and his cock had a co-conspirator in his wife's young cunt, hungry for her first cum and eager beyond all measure to please her new lover. For a time, he was able to master the anxious desire of cock and cunt, and he set a steady pace, his wife's hips joining his, and they danced their wedding dance. But she was so very wet now, flowing, soaking his needy stones until they dripped with honeycum, and although she was stretched open by his cock, she was excruciatingly tight; each time he burrowed deep, it felt like the first, like he was taking her virginity repeatedly, thrust upon inward thrust, a hundred times, two hundred, five hundred, until he could take no more of this, and his pace increased, and the power of his driving hips overwhelmed the small thing beneath him and she had no choice but to lay there and take what her man was giving her.

When his orgasm finally commenced, hers did the same. She had her long thin legs lifted in the air, and they quaked around him, and she arched her back as if presenting her breasts to him, as if she were saying, "See these tits, husband of mine? They're yours. They're ready. They'll feed the baby that you plant in me." And so he exploded, he unleashed his torrent inside her, he pumped and pumped as he slammed his hips against her.

The release completed, the man's stones emptied into the girl until she overflowed, their bodies continued a post-coital dance as if neither lover wanted the moment to end, hips rising and falling, cock sliding effortlessly now in fully-lubricated cunt. Slowly their gyrations ebbed, and stiff cock softened with tingling satisfaction.

She smiled up at him as he lay above her and his now-flaccid cock slipped out of her. Dark auburn strands were matted around her face, her once-pale cheeks were ruddy, her lips parted and a hint of her dark pink tongue poked through.

"You've done the deed," she said in a hoarse whisper as he dismounted her. "Your lady is filled with seed."

"And a fine lady she is," he answered.

"You did seem pleased to be inside her."

"She seemed pleased to have me."

"Perhaps," she grinned, "I may have enjoyed it a little bit."

He laughed, then rose from the bed to pour them both a glass of wine. She sat up when he returned, and she had her usual mischievous smile. "Your cock is so small now! I'm not used to cocks so small. They do not seem to soften so much for boys my age, no matter how many times they cum."

"Fret not," he said, handing her a glass of wine and sitting on the bed, next to her. "'He'll be big again, soon enough."

She laughed, taking a deep gulp of the wine. "How soon?" she said. "From what I feel inside me, and dripping out, I think you may have satisfied your stones for a day or two at least, if not a week."

"How soon do you want it? I can get hard again this instant."

"Oh, if it's a question of my wants, I'm quite willing to wait the week."

"I think not. I think your cunt enjoyed the ravaging, and wants another."

"Methinks you are extrapolating your cock's desires onto my lady parts, which have been stretched and battered, and are in need of rest."

He looked down between her legs at her still-dripping lips, open and distended, "Your lady parts appear to be quite ready to be fucked again."

"This is most unfair!" She reached down and covered herself with a hand. "You use me like a man uses a whore, and then claim that because I've been used once, I'm ready to be used again!"

"Come, girl," he answered, reaching out and taking hold of her wrist, "let your husband look at your cunt. Your hand belongs here instead." He pulled her hand away, and set it on his cock.

"Oh!" she said, her eyes going wide. "It seems your limp little man is begining to stand upright again!"

"Yes, and if you give him a few strokes, or better still, some kisses, he'll be solidly stiff again."

"Aye, no doubt that's true, but to what benefit for me? I've always used my hand and mouth to tame a cock, to turn a boy's lustful thoughts to something other than my cunt. But sure you suggest the opposite now, that I should use my hand and mouth to make you stiff, so that you might fuck me again." But even as she spoke these words, her fingers wrapped around him and began to stroke.

"What benefit to you?" he replied. "The benefit to you is that you get fucked again!"

"That is a sore benefit indeed, sir!" she retorted. But she handed her now-empty wine glass to the man, and leaned over, and took his cockhead into her mouth.

"Finally," he said, finishing his wine as she began to suck, then setting their glass on the bedside table, "your mouth has stopped its endless talking." She gave a cock-muffled giggle in response.

Within a minute, her skillful tongue and lips and hand had brought him to full erection, and he grabbed a clump of her soft auburn hair and pulled her off. Deftly he took her by her shoulders and flipped her over, onto her belly on the bed. He grabbed her hips and lifted them as he moved to kneel behind her.

"Gently!" she cried into the bedsheets. "If you must, please do it gently!"

"There's no longer need for gentleness," he said with a gruff aggressiveness that he had not yet used with her. "You're a woman now, and you'll take my cock like a woman does!" As he spoke, he positioned his cockhead at her opening, her cunt lips still soaking wet and distended, and he drove into her with the power of a seasoned warrior. She grunted into the bedsheets as he sunk deep; a long, low, painful moan.

His first few thrusts were pure aggression and adrenaline, but then he settled into a more reasonable pace, sliding in and out of her sloppy cunt. She turned her head to the side and looked up at him with one green eye.

"Did I not implore you to be gentle?" she asked him.

"You did," he answered, holding tight to her hips and rocking.

"And yet you ignore my pleading! You are a brute!" He laughed, and slapped her ass. "Oh, and now, more spanking! You treat your wife so poorly!"

"I treat my wife just how she needs, and how she wants," he answered. "And now, stop your mouth, girl. I want to fuck, not talk."

"Fuck, then, if all I am to you is a cunt to cum in."

"That's not all you are to me."

"What else am I to you? And choose your words wisely, Captain, for if you answer 'A mouth to cum in, too,' then I'll run back home to my mother and annul our marriage on the grounds that you are mean!"

With his cock impaling her to his hilt, he leaned over her and stroked her hair. "Maeve," he said, with a new gentleness, "the truth is that I adore you and love you dearly."

She smiled up at him, with her face still half-prone on the bed. "Do you speak the truth? I know how men lie when they want to cum. I've heard such words many times, but found them lacking, once they've finished with my mouth."

"Then shall I stop? For proof of my words?"

"Such noble sacrifice, from a man who came in my cunt already."

"Ah," he said, smiling, "but there's the proof of it, my little logician. Unlike the boys you've had in your mouth, I have confessed my love for you after I came."

"Hmm..." she said. "I must admit, there's some truth to what you say."

"Yes," he said with the smugness of a man who knows he scored a point in a debate with his wife. "Now, I enjoy our banter, girl, but I have other things in mind at present." He sat back on his knees again and took hold of her ass.

"Are you near?" She asked him as he began sliding his cock in and out of her again. "Will you..." Her breath caught momentarily. "Will you finish soon?"

"I can be done quickly, if that's what you want."

"I think..." She'd turned her head back to the bedsheets, and her voice was muffled again. "I think I might prefer it"--she moaned--"if you take a little while to finish."

Though she did not see her husband's smile, she surely knew that he had a sense of triumph about him, and she had to admit that he had won this round. But she also knew that her defeat was to her advantage, for a girl must let the man win sometimes, lest his fragile ego be bruised. And besides, she truly did enjoy the feeling of his magnificent cock driving deep into her, and was done with the talking herself, though she'd never admit it. And so she buried her face into the bed, and bit her lip, and gasped and moaned with unabashed pleasure, as her new husband fucked her like a whore.

He was a powerful man. Men might not be as sharp-witted, in Maeve's experience, as she, but they have other advantages, and Tollof's advantage was in full display now as gripped tight to her ass and slammed his hips forward, driving cock as deep as it would go into her battered cunt, his large stones slapping repeatedly against her clit. This he managed somehow to continue without cessation for five more minutes, and the girl endured a long, hard fucking, tingles of pleasure emanating from her sex and turning into thrilling waves of ecstasy which waxed and waned, and each waxing larger and more forceful that the last, until she felt that there was nothing in the world at all but her cunt, and his cock, and their dramatic union. And when he lifted his head and let out a bellow, her body gave over to orgasm, and she came, legs shaking, body quaking, cunt on fire, and she felt the warmth of the spurts of his semen released inside her again the second time that night.

They lay together in the darkness after, her head on his shoulder.

"A chieftain would not have offered to stop," she said, hoping to regain some advantage in the debate.

"Do you think I would have stopped?" he asked.

"Did you mislead me, sir?" she asked, looking up at him and smiling, her eyes half closed with near sleep.

"Not so," he answered. "My only thought was what you wanted."

She gave a sleepy laugh. "Oh? You expect me to believe that you did not want to cum inside me?"

He kissed the top of her head. "I always want to cum inside you, wife. I have since the moment I first laid eyes on you."

"That much was obvious!" she giggled.

"Equally obvious was how much you wanted it," he said.

She snorted in reply. "Oh yes, sure you believe that I couldn't live without your cock. You prove more like the neighor boys every day."

"Which is why I would never have stopped," he continued, ignoring her retort. "I could never deny my new wife, that which she wants so badly."

"Badly?" she said. "You mistake me badly, that much is true."

He laughed, then spoke in a voice that mimicked a young girl. "'I think I might prefer it if you take a little while to finish.'"

"Oh you," she said, settling against his chest and shutting her eyes. "I was just being nice, because I knew you wanted to hear me say it."

He kissed her on the top of her head. "Goodnight, my love," he said.

"Goodnight. And husband?"

"Yes?"

"I only tease. I really did want you to take a while to finish."

"I know."

"But then again," she smiled, her eyes still closed, "perhaps I'm just being nice again, by saying that now."

He chuckled, and kissed her again. "Perhaps," he said. "Or, perhaps not."

Maeve did not respond, except with the calm, steady breath of sleep.

The Viking captain sat up in bed, the morning sun bathing his naked body; he might not be a chieftain, which his wife has teased him about since the first minute they met, but right now he would swear he wss king of the world. A little auburn Irish lass was crouched before him, leaning over, the thick head of his warrior cock in her mouth, and both her hands stroking.

When she'd awoken, red-eyed and bleary, in the morning after their wedding night, her husband was ready for round three. She told him that she was too sore. He briefly considered telling her that her soreness didn't matter to him; she was a wife and a woman now and she'll do what a wife and a woman does. But before he could tell her thus, or move on to other purer thoughts, she disarmed him with her sweet smile.

"I know just what to do to boys who think they can have my cunt, even though I've told them 'no,'" she said.

"You geld them?"

"Hoh!" She laughed. "That is an option! But I think I'll not do that to you today. Strangely, I've grown fond of your stones."

"They've grown fond of you."

"I think they were fond of me from the first moment of our meeting! But it looks to me like it's their companion that has grown more fond. They are the same size they've always been, but he is suddenly quite big!" She climbed up and crouched before him, taking his cock in her hand. "But fear not, proud warrior, I shall make him small again."

And so Tollof, Viking-captain, was now made to feel like King of the World by a beautiful Irish lass, who plied her trade between his legs. With a skilled two-hand technique and a tight lip lock, she soon had him near, but just as he was about to see the gates of paradise, she stopped and pulled away.

"My mouth is tired," she grinned at him.

"Oh, god, no!" he moaned, and reached down to grab her head and pull her back in place.

She ducked aside, laughing. "You boys are all the same! All you want to do is cum!"

"And you girls are all the same. Teases!"

"Oh? A tease, am I? Did you not fuck me twice last night, until my cunt was sore?"

"I'll fuck you again right now!" he said, grabbing for her again.

"You'll not!" she giggled, deftly avoiding his hands. "But don't despair, poor man, I'll make you happy."

She leaned over him again and with both hands, she gripped his cock, and a few strokes later he arched his back and moaned, and his cock throbbed and pulsed and his stones tightened to his body, and his sweet little wife laughed, and he exploded in her hands, spurts of hot mancum splatting against her face.

================

"Your men are watching."

There really wasn't much that Maeve liked about her first week aboard a Viking longboat, but the two worst things were the sea sickness--although some of that might have been attributable to morning sickness, being that she was two months along now--and the utter lack of privacy, a condition made worse by the fact that she was the only girl on a boat with two dozen men. The men were respectful enough, but she'd learned by now that even the most polite men can't help themselves, and the longer they go without sex, the worse they get, and it seemed like she couldn't even take a pee over the side of the boat without ten or more sets of eyes trying to look between her legs.

The captain laughed, looking around the boat. It was night, so most of the men were asleep on their bedrolls, but the gibbous moon lit the boat in pale silver, and the sea was clam, and the men whose watch it was were definitely watching. He had her dress pulled up, and her bloomers down, and his finger inside her increasingly slippery cunt.

"You can't blame them, can you?" he replied. "They like their captain's little mount."

"Hush now," she said. "You be a gentleman. You talk like I'm a mare. I'm your wife, not your 'mount.'"

"You're my filly," was his assertion in reply, his finger sliding freely now.

"I was a filly when I met you, but that was before your stones emptied into me one too many times. Now, shouldn't you leave me be, so that I and this baby can sleep?"

"I've left you alone like a gentleman this whole week, while you got your sea legs. Since you've recovered, it's time now for you to be a wife."

"Oh, now I'm a wife, and not a mount?"

"You're both!" he said, pulling his finger out and climbing between her legs, undoing his trousers as he did.

"You're not..." she started, the words interrupted by an unintentional gasp as her husband's thick cock parted her cuntlips and dove inside her, "...you're not concerned that your men are watching?"

He didn't answer. He was already hard at his task, pumping his cock in and out of her. She looked around the boat; a few of the men turned away in embarrassment, but others just smiled and continued to stare. The girl smiled back. And then, she figured, if they're going to watch, may as well make it fun for them. So she pulled her dress the rest of the way off.

It was a chilly night on the open sea, and this made her already pregnancy-thickened nipples atop her swelling breasts harden into stiff thick nubs. Now even the men who had looked away in embarrassment were staring again; men, she knew, cannot help but look at bare tits when they have the opportunity. So she cupped her hands under her breasts, and lifted them, and smiled at each man in turn.

Her husband, she knew, liked her swollen breasts. He spent many a night sucking on them since her pregnancy began. So she was not surprised when he latched onto one of her thick teats and began to suckle, while his powerful hips drove his cock deep into her. And, she herself had found, since her pregnancy began, that her nipples were afire, and the feeling of his mouth wrapped tightly around one of them sent shivers through her body and stars before her eyes, and she moaned, and arched her back.

When her sight cleared, she found herself locked in eye contact with one of her husband's men, a boy, really, not many years older than she. As their eyes locked, she mouthed the words "Fuck me!" to him. They boy's eyes went wide, and hers rolled, as Tollof moved to her other teat. When she was able to focus again, she saw that the boy had his cock out of his pants and was masturbating furiously, oblivious to the laughter of the men around him. The sight of him beating off caused the shivers through her body to turn into waves of pleasure, and she bucked her hips in rhythm with her husband's. Locking eyes with the boy again, she mouthed, "Cum for me!"

And the lad did just what she asked, groaning as he sent large strings of semen arching through the air, glimmering in the moonlight as they splattered on the floor five feet in front of him. This brought Maeve over the edge was well, and she came on her husband's cock, moaning and shaking, while the men--even her husband--laughed, though more from the joy of the moment than to tease the now red-faced boy.

As her husband finished his deed, Maeve felt something new and very different inside her, a movement in her belly that she had not initiated.

"Our baby," she whispered to Tollof. "He moves, he kicks!"

Tollof laughed, and smiled, and kissed his pretty young wife. "He likes it when his father cums!"

"He does!" she said, all smiles and blushing. "He'll love to cum when he's man, just like his father!"

Tollof laughed.

"Though unlike his father, perhaps this one will be a chieftain some day."

"Oh you!" he said, giving her a stern look, though his eyes danced with merriment. "Do you want me to have to give you a spanking, in front of all these men?"

"If you do, more of the men will need need to cum!" As she spoke, she rolled over onto her belly and lifted her bare ass into the air. He swatted her hard, four or five times, before he climbed behind her.

"What was that you said about being my mount?" he asked her as he gripped his cock and directed it down to her dripping cunt.

"If you want to pretend I'm a filly, you can," she said over her shoulder to him, "though the little chieftain kicking in my belly says otherwise."

"A filly?" her husband said. "I think not. You're a bitch in heat, and your used cunt is mine to fuck!" His cock rammed home. "You're my whore, and my breedslut!"

She groaned at his entry, then lifted herself up on her hands so that her swollen tits heaved and swung in time with her husband's agressive thrusts, for the pleasure of the men who watched. And a pleasure it was for them indeed; several more were jacking off now, and she stared at each of their cocks in turn, and looked them directly in the eye, and mouthed words to them, "Cum for me!" And they did, each of them sending their glistening strings of semen into the air as her husband filled her with his.

For the rest of their voyage back to Norway, Captain Tollof had no problem getting men to volunteer to stand the night watch. And Maeve found that her enjoyment of life upon the sea improved with each day, and each night, but she longed nonetheless to have her feet on solid ground, and moreso, to meet her husband's little child who was now her daughter, through right of marriage.

And so it was that one day the boat arrived at port in her husband's home, and Maeve marveled at the beauty of the place, and at the kind reception of his friends and family. But the little girl proved shy, and it was several days before she understood that this new lady was to be her mother. But then, Maeve and Ishild became fast friends, and Maeve sang the songs of her homeland to the little girl, and taught her to speak the Irish, and told her what stories of the Christ she could remember, so that the girl might grow up to be a Christian, rather than a heathen like the people of this distant land.

In six months time, Maeve gave birth to a baby boy, and named him Coilin, which in the Irish means "little chieftain." And so did the girl tease her husband, even with the name of their child!

When Coilin was ten years old, he had grown into a little version of his father, and his father had taken his child's name to heart, for Maeve was now a chieftain's wife, and the mother of two more children. At that time, the family sailed to Ireland again, with Coilin sometimes at the helm, and there Maeve had her children baptized into the faith, and her husband too, and they were among the first in Norway to practice the new religion. Tollof became a great leader of men, and very wealthy, and was said by many even in their old age to have the most beautiful wife in the world. Coilin also became a great leader and the chieftain that his name predicted, and like his father before him, found his bride among the beautiful women of Ireland and his wife gave him many children, for like Maeve, and like all the girls of Ireland, she was as lustful in bed as her husband. It was a time of plenty for the Vikings, and they ruled all of northern Europe, and Maeve and Tollof's family was wealthy beyond all measure and lived a full and happy life.