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From the Mists

"A viking woman waits in anticipation for the return of her lover after the summer raids."

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Competition Entry: Historical Erotica
The morning air was heavy and thick with mist. Tendrils of the morning fog wrapped its fingers around the trunks and branches of trees, engulfing the leaves in its mouth, pressing the rest of its massive body against the rippling waters of the fjord. There was nothing to be seen but gray.

The world felt infinitely suspended. As if the Gods were playing with time. The birds in the trees remained still and silent knowing it was day by the lack of darkness, but lost in the hazy world that revealed nothing. The goats and chickens of the farm felt the same, only nestling into one another closer to know they were not alone. The only noise out of the stillness was the constant lapping of water along the smooth pebbles of the shore.

She pulled the furs over her naked flesh and felt the emptiness in the bed beside her. Too long gone, she thought, and her eyes flashed open. Every morning since he left was the same, she felt him so deeply in her dreams only to awake to smoky darkness and loneliness. The shadows in the cabin crept all around her, the only light coming from the dim embers of the fire pit.

The men had left when the sun and winds warmed your face. Now the air began to whistle of winter and the leaves of the trees were starting to frost their tips with gold and crimson. He had left to raid the newfound country called "England" some weeks before. Men who had made the journey told of it's rolling fertile hills, and endless hoards of gold and silver protected by weak men who surrounded themselves with papers and books. It was not his first raid or his first trip to the west. He had shown himself to be a great warrior in battle and earned deep scars across his broad, muscular back and chest as proof. Still, she thought, Gods willing, it would not be his last.

He will come.

She swung her legs over onto the hardened dirt floor and rose from her bed allowing the furs and blankets to slide across her skin to the ground, the sensation prickling the hairs at the base of her neck and allowing her collarbone to flush. She closed her eyes and let the feeling pass.

He will come.

The resolve straightened in her spine. Her gray eyes wide again, she found a basin of water in the dim light and splashed it against her face, letting the water trickle and trace patterns down her neck. She dressed quickly, suddenly feeling the gentle chill in the air. She lifted her long shift over her head and tightened the lacing across her chest, feeling the rough linen weave scratch against her skin. Her long apron was fastened with two large, handsome broaches and her long waves tied in a loose braid over her shoulder.

She crossed to the door and opened the dark cabin to the world of gray. Some shafts of sunlight were beginning to make their way through the dense fog- giving a shimmer to the air. Barefoot, she made her daily pilgrimage to the water's edge to wait in the stillness for him to return.

She could have made the journey to the shore blind. Her other senses provided a surer guide, the growing sound of water over the shifting pebbles, the change in smell as the air lost the smell of pine, the feeling of the ground under feet, changing from rich earth, to pebbles and sand. A soft wind loosened a frame of curls around her face as her toes found the water. She tried to peer deep into the shrouded landscape, imagining she could make out the horizon and the mountains around her. Perhaps the fog was lifting, or perhaps her memory was filling in the gaps her senses could not perceive.

She stood in silence as she did every morning, hearing and seeing nothing more than the day before. Her shoulders sloped inward as she turned back towards home, the fog finally revealing the world around her. It was then she saw the shadow emerging over the water in the rising mists. It was him. It had to be. Her breath shallowed, and her eyes strained.

The shadow of him continued to grow larger and more defined though the details of his face remained obscured. She recognized the broadness of his shoulders as he rowed towards her, the shape of him slowly growing larger and larger. It was more as if she was watching a bear appear out of the mist than a man.

The sounds of his even strokes became louder and she began to drink in the sight of his face as his features emerged out of the grayness. She took in his eyes that changed color like the sea between a sunny and cloudy day. She saw his strong, stern brow and his square set jaw with his rougish half smile. For his size and strength, he very gracefully slipped out of the boat and walked it ashore, the water rising barely to his knees.

He stood before her. She could smell the salt of the ocean on his furs and in his beard and hair.

"Wife," he said.

The anticipation and longing for this moment caused her knees to tremble under her. For so long, the only relief from her loneliness were her dreams of him which abruptly ended each and every morning with a renewed sense of longing and impatience. Her body had ached for his touch, missed his rough hands across her body. Felt her sex dampen when she caught a lingering scent of him in her bed. And now, he was here before her again; the smell of him, the heat of him, the strength of him.

He took her face in his rough, calloused hands and raised her face to his. His thumb scratched across her cheek and caused a shiver to run down her spine. She felt his chapped lips against her own, parting her mouth. She drank in his breath and pushed against his tongue with hers.

Her hands gripped onto the furs he wore over his shoulders and he lifted her by the waist with one arm. His other hand found her ankle and ran his hand along the back of her leg pushing her dress upwards. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed her hips against his belt. Her wet sex made the crotch of his pants damp and through the fabric she could feel his manhood pulsing against her.

He carried her home.

He set her down at the foot of the bed, their eyes locked. He shrugged off his furs which feel in a heap around him. She unclasped her apron and let the fabric slip against her curves to the floor. She started loosening the laces of her shift slowly. Her eyes challenged his own, waiting for his next move. She slipped the thread out of each eyelet one by one.

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Letting the neck of her dress slowly open, widening the sliver of skin to expose more and more of her breastbone. The string fell to the floor beside her.

He knelt in front of her and ran his hands over the curves of her breasts teasing the fabric against her skin. He ran his tongue over her erect nipple through the weave of the cloth and teased it between his teeth. She bit her lip and slipped her fingers through his hair, guiding his face across to her other breast.

He pulled back slightly and grasped at the collar of her dress and tore it down the middle, roughly pushing it off her shoulders.

He admired her body. Her gleaming pale skin, firm tight breasts and slender waist. Her skin smelled warm and wild. Her sex smelled hot and sweet. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. She dipped her fingers between her legs and brought them to his lips and he tasted her.

He slid his hands over her body and pushed her down onto the bed in front of him. She widened her knees and pulled him in between her legs. He brushed his lips up and down her thighs trailing the roughness of his lips and beard against her skin. He breathed onto her sex, tasting her through the inch of air between his lips and hers. He ran his fingers along the tips of her folds and held them apart as his tongue teased at her sticky flesh.

Her breath came in shallow gasps and he swirled his tongue in circles around that secret part of her sex that gave her so much pleasure. He knew how to control her body, bringing her to the brink of release and keeping her there- taunting her. She moaned and gasped while her fingers clutched at the blankets and furs around her. Her whole body ached in tension and anticipation.

After letting her squirm and buck against him, he began to suck on the hidden button in her sex. It was all she needed, and she cried out uncontrollably, her entire body shaking in ecstasy. The quivering in her body lingered and it took her a moment to regain any feeling of strength in her limbs. She started to prop herself onto her elbows but he had already climbed over her and lifted her into the center of their bed.

"I am not finished with you yet," he grinned.

She threw her head back and smiled, "Oh no?"

He knelt above her and lifted his shirt over his head, exposing his broad chest and well-muscled arms. She traced her fingertips over the scars she did not recognize.

He came in to kiss her softly at first, his breath made sweet by her. She bit against his lip and began to fumble for the lacing of his breeches. She smiled as she heard his breath catch as her hands ran over his manhood. She kissed his shoulders and his chest, tasting the salt of the sea mixed with the salt of the man. His breeches undone she pulled against them exposing his sex.

Finding the strength returned to her body once more, she pushed against him, landing him on his back and she rolled on top of him, grinding her pelvis into his in slow, tantalizing circles. She could feel his manhood pressing against her but she was not ready to let him have her so soon. He had made her wait and so would she.

She bowed her head, trailing her curls down his chest, pushing her way down his body until it was her turn to tease him with her tongue and mouth. She licked him slowly feeling the tension rise in his sex. His manhood lifting towards her smooth lips. She swirled her tongue around the tip of his strong staff before engulfing him whole into her mouth.

His breath caught again followed by a guttural moan. He gripped her hair and thrust his pelvis against her mouth. She steadied herself against him, opening her mouth and throat wide for him. She cradled his large balls in her hand, rolling them around in her fingers. She played with the soft patch behind his balls and his thrusting became stronger and faster. She could hear his breathing become shallow and knew he was close to the same release he had given her. She was not ready to let him relax so soon.

She pushed back, rolling her tongue over his manhood for a final time, feeling the veins throbbing against her lips as she brushed over them. She straddled him again, once again letting her hips push against his. His hands reached around, clutching at her bottom and thighs. She trailed her hands over his body before spreading the lips of her sex apart for him and let him slide inside of her. It had been some time, and she gasped at the size of him, pushing her apart from the inside. She undulated over him, arching her breasts and shoulders back. Letting him admire the curves of her body that he had missed so much. He pushed against her greedy for the feeling and sight of her.

But he was not a patient man. He rolled over so that she was now under him and he thrust once deeply and sure. She gasped. He lifted her smooth leg over his shoulder, raising her pelvis up to him and thrust again. She moaned. He took one hand in his and pinned it above her head, the other held her leg against him. He thrust a third time and she cried aloud.

He pumped against her and she clutched at his hair, his back and arms. She felt she sheen of sweat against his body and saw how his body glistened in the still dim light. Their minds emptied of everything but the sensations of each other, their touch, and sight and gasps for breath. Their love was hot and fierce and primal.

Their bodies tensed together, chests heaving and muscles tightening in unison. Their breath shallowed and turned to cries of desire. It was she who came first, her sex tightening around his manhood as her body shook and trembled. The sound of her sweet release and the feeling of her body tensing around his sex caused him the same sweet release and with strong, deep thrusts he planted his seed deep within her with a ferocious roar.

He fell to the side of her and felt the sweat sting his eyes as it ran from his brow, his chest heaving. His arm crossed over his face in exhaustion. She turned towards him and pushed her dampened waves off her face. Her eyes studied him, lying there.

"You have something to say, wife," He rasped, unmoving.

She hit his chest hard enough for him to know she could hit harder.

"You will not make me wait that long for you again."

Published 
Written by MissFrottage
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