Page 111 of A Tale of Two Vikings

Esme had felt much the same way that time when Toste had put his mouth there. So she knew what her body was yearning for…that wonderful, awful peaking business.

Once again, he lifted her by the waist and arranged her body over his…this time with her sitting on his belly, her female folds forming a perfect channel for his hard, hard manpart. She glanced up at him in question. He half reclined now, his upper body braced on his elbows, as he looked at the place where their bodies met. His blue eyes were misty with arousal. His full lips were parted as he panted slightly. Esme felt oddly exhilarated that she could bring such pleasure to a man, especially an experienced one like Toste.

“Move,” he said in a raw voice.

“How?”

“Any way that feels good to you.”

Hmmm. She undulated her hips forward, her slick folds moving with surprising ease.

He groaned.

She smiled.

“Witch,” he said.

“Wretch,” she said.

This time she undulated back and forth and noticed that the knob at the end of his manpart hit a particular bump in her channel, causing her eyeballs to practically roll back in her head with bliss. She did it more slowly this time, just to experiment. By the saints! What was this marvelous spot?

When she repeated the process twice more, Toste asked her, “Does that feel good?”

“Nay.”

“Liar,” he laughed.

Then Esme decided to experiment with other moves. Side to side. Bouncing. Circles. But always she came back to the undulations which had her riding the ridge of his staff, then bumping her bud.

“Why am I so wet there?” she asked.

He made a choking sound, then said, “Because your body wants me. It is preparing for my entry.”

“Oh.”

“Can you guide me into your body, sweetling?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll help. Raise yourself up a bit.”

He placed himself at her entrance, but she knew…she just knew…his massive size would never fit in her. She was right. Only the head went in.

She looked at him with dismay.

But Toste, still leaning back on his elbows, was staring with carnal concentration at the place where they were partially joined. Then he reached one hand forth and used his forefinger to strum that bud which was apparently exposed by her widespread thighs.

She saw stars for one brief moment and her inner muscles clasped and unclasped him, pulling him in halfway.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged her. “I don’t want to hurt you. Go slow. Just a little more.”

She had no idea how to go fast or slow. She was obeying her body’s commands at this point.

He tweaked her nipples, and she took more of his manpart.

He spread her thighs wider, and she took a bit more.

He tap-tap-tapped her woman-bud with his thumb, and she screamed as her body began to peak.