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Author's Notes

"This story takes place in my timeline a little before "Lowborn" and "To Catch a Merchant Princess" and Christi's story "Casting Off Convention". Christi also appears in "Blackhawk Hall" and "Missionary Impossible", which are much later in the timeline."

Christi settled the bag slung over her shoulder into a more comfortable position and set out for town. She was in good spirits, even though she harbored no illusions about actually having the opportunity to sell her sword. She'd gained the confidence of her brothers and father some time before, but today's coup was acquiring her mother's reluctant acceptance. That was the key that let her set out on the road this sunny spring afternoon.

A breeze rustled through her dark brown hair, helping to keep the temperature comfortable. Between that and the dry road, the journey promised to be pleasant.

It would be evening by the time she reached town, but her father had presented her with a few coins for food and lodging - enough to stay for three days if she was frugal. Even if she couldn't find work, she was finally venturing out on her own, and the feeling was euphoric.

The grass alongside the hard-packed dirt road somehow seemed greener and the sunlight more brilliant as her quick, confident stride ate up the distance. Lost in her whirling thoughts of anticipation, she was almost surprised when she topped a hill and saw the town.

Jarlsfeld wasn't a large town, but it was growing. Christi was older than most of the buildings, which had started springing up when a nearby baron had increased taxes within his holdings. She barely recognized it as the sleepy hamlet where she'd once journeyed weekly with her brothers to learn her letters and numbers. One new building had arisen and another was under construction at the edge of town since she'd last visited only a month before.

A wide smile spread across her face as she continued down the road.

The rutted streets were filled with people moving to and fro. Some were burdened with goods, while others appeared to be socializing. With the sun drawing ever closer to the horizon in the west, much of the traffic was concentrated on the inns and taverns. Christi set her course for one such establishment her father had recommended as clean and reasonably priced.

"Christi? Is that you?"

Pausing at the sound of the voice, Christi turned to see one of her few friends hurrying toward her. "Hey, Renna."

"Oh, wow. It's been forever since I've seen you," the blonde said as she approached.

Christi shrugged. "Winter kept us bottled up, and we weren't in town for more than an hour or so last month."

"I was going to the Cat's Eye. Want to come?"

"That's where I'm planning to stay if they have a room."

"How long are you staying?"

"Depends on how long my coin holds out. Maybe three days."

Renna squealed in excitement. "We'll have plenty of time to catch up and have fun then."

Shaking her head and chuckling, Christi continued on with Renna at her side. Her friend was flighty and excitable, but not quite enough to be annoying. Though more inclined toward what most called manly pursuits, Christi was a girl, and female companionship filled the gap in a life dominated by a family full of boys.

The sound of music and laughter reached their ears as they neared the inn, growing louder when another patron opened the door to go inside. Christi had heard plenty of stories from her brothers, but the actual experience as she stepped across the threshold put those tales to shame. Excitement positively filled the air.

Renna leaned in close to be heard above the noise and pointed. "There's a table over there. I'm going to go get it for us before someone else does."

As the blonde darted through the tables and patrons, Christi made her way toward a door at the side of the room. The balding man behind the counter looked up from his books as she approached.

"Have any rooms?"

"I do. You have coin?"

Christi reached into her purse, pulled out a silver half-crown, and placed it on the counter. The innkeeper picked it up, gave it a tap on a piece of stone, and then bit down on it for good measure. Apparently satisfied that the coin was real, he placed it inside a strongbox and selected a key from the wall behind him.

"Up the stairs, third door along. That coin is good for two nights. Do you want your change?"

Christi shook her head and took the key. "I'm staying at least that long."

The innkeeper's suspicious expression softened. "Very good. It quiets down some after midnight."

"I've slept through worse," she said as she headed for the stairs.

The room was simple, but more than adequate. The bedclothes looked clean, and sitting down on the bed demonstrated that it was comfortable, as her father had told her. A small chest of drawers next to the bed supported an oil lamp and provided storage. Sitting on a table along the wall was a pitcher, three clay cups, a metal basin for washing, and a few washcloths.

Satisfied, Christi stripped off her leather armor and laid her sword on the bed. The pitcher was full, so she took advantage of it and the basin to wash off a little of the sweat from the road before putting on clean clothes and heading back downstairs.

"Good, I thought you were going to leave your sword and armor on," Renna said and then giggled as Christi approached.

"Still have my dagger."

Renna rolled her eyes and laughed. "Now, we wait."

"For what?"

"For someone to buy us drinks."

"Who's going to buy us drinks?"

"Some guy who wants to see us naked," Renna answered and twitched her eyebrows.

"Yeah, like that's going to work. Are they really that stupid?"

"Well, I've done it once - but I wanted him in the first place."

Christi snapped her gaze to her friend. "Really?"

Renna giggled and nodded. "After that, a lot more guys bought me drinks, because they thought that was why I snuck off with him. I'd actually followed him in here and flirted with him from across the room until he bought me a drink."

"So, was it any good?"

The blonde closed her eyes and moaned. "He had a huge one. I keep hoping to see him come back into town again. He was way better than the other boys."

Having grown up around animals and her older brothers, Christi was hardly ignorant of sex. The right set of circumstances simply hadn't arisen to make her consider it - though she took care of her own needs often enough.

"I thought I was going to pass out when he licked me down there."

Christi scrunched up her nose upon hearing that. It was something else she'd heard whispered about, but the idea of it was both repulsive and intriguing at the same time.

Renna must have caught it, because she asked, "You've never had a boy do that?"

"No." She didn't volunteer that she'd never done anything with a boy.

"Oh, it's so good when they do it right, and you don't have to worry about them coming before you do. They all want you to suck on it, so it's only fair that they return the favor."

Renna laughed, and then nodded off to the side. "That didn't take long."

A serving girl walked up to the table and sat down two foaming tankards. "From those guys over there," she announced with little enthusiasm, and then hurried back to the bar.

Turning to where the barmaid was pointing, Christi saw a couple of men a little older than her raising their drinks and wearing nervous smiles. She shrugged, picked up one of the tankards and saluted back before taking a long pull. Free beer was free beer.

Renna batted her eyelashes and flipped her hair in the direction of the two men before taking a sip. Her lips still behind the tankard, she said, "The dark-haired one is cute."

"Probably never done an honest day's work in his life," Christi countered as she took another drink.

"Well, I guess I'll have to make him work for it if he's interested, then."

Christi laughed and then took another pull of her beer, wondering how long it would take for some boy to send over another.

****

Walking up the stairs late that night took quite a bit of concentration. As Renna had predicted, the free drinks kept coming. After a couple of tankards, Christi had even begun to enjoy the game and imitated her friend's flirting whenever another round would arrive. She never had the slightest intention of letting any of the young men win the prize though. Not a one of them was her type. They were pampered townsfolk.

Renna was a different story. After only one tankard, it was obvious that she'd set her sights on the dark-haired young man. He'd escorted the unsteady blonde home a short while earlier.

They probably only made it as far as the nearest shadowy spot, if the kissing and groping were any indication.

As little as she wanted to admit it, the display had affected her. Christi's nipples were stiff and the ache between her legs had made her consider approaching one of the men for a few fleeting moments as she stood to go to her room.

The feeling didn't go away when she lay down on the bed, either. If anything, stripping off her shirt and pants only made it stronger. As she ran her hands over her firm breasts and felt the turgid points, she gave in. A moment later she pushed her panties down.

Combing her fingers through the dark nest of curls between her legs was enough to make her gasp. Near the bottom of her nether lips, the closer-trimmed hair was slightly damp. It was far wetter than that when she slipped a finger between her folds.

Christi moaned and traced the parting of her lips with her fingertip, and then wriggled deeper. A second finger joined the first, and slipped into her canal. She whimpered and tensed at the sting, but then moaned again as the feeling of fullness overwhelmed the discomfort.

Well-practiced at pleasuring herself, she pumped the digits in and out of her depths while her other hand slipped into place between her legs. Centering three fingers over her hood, she rubbed them in a slow, circular motion that rolled her clit with delightful pressure and tugged at her nether lips.

Quiet whimpers and moans tumbled from her lips as she increased the speed and pressure of her fingers. The wet sound of her labia sliding over each other grew louder. Her heart raced. Her face flushed. She sucked in a deep, sharp breath.

And then she came.

Christi pushed hard on the fingers buried inside her as her bottom lifted from the bed. The scream trying to escape her throat emerged in a series of choked whimpers as waves of orgasmic energy coursed through her body. Finally, she sighed and her tight muscles relaxed, leaving her panting and twitching from the aftershocks.

Bringing her fingers to her lips, she sucked them clean of her juices. The scent of her womanly perfume and tang of her wetness set off another wave of aftershocks, and she writhed from the pleasure.

Long, blissful minutes later, her breathing slowed, and she drifted off into a contented sleep.

****

Though she felt a little hungover, the rising sun drew Christi from her bed. She'd come here for a reason, and she was determined to follow through. After a wash to remove the abundant evidence of pleasuring herself in the night, she dressed, strapped on her armor, and belted on her sword.

A wagon yard on the west side of town shared by several merchants had become the normal gathering place for sellswords, and Christi headed there without delay. Along the way, she chewed on a piece of jerky from her kit to break her fast, though it served to make her cottonmouth worse.

There were a few men in the wagon yard, leaning idly against fenceposts and buildings. Everyone looked her way as she strode confidently into the yard to join them. A water barrel with a ladle hanging on the side caught her attention, and she changed course toward it.

Though she expected it, the men whispering to each other and leering at her was still irritating.

Even as she drank, she could tell it wasn't going to be a good day. There were no wagons in the yard, and no merchants coming or going. That could possibly change as the day went on, but most chose to set out early from what she knew, so as to reach their destinations or a suitable campsite without undue haste.

Regular drinks of water eventually chased away her cottonmouth. Leaning against the weathered boards of the building near the barrel out of the direct sunlight helped her mild hangover as well. After an hour or so, she had more or less recovered.

A couple of the other loitering sellswords rolled a chunk of log over near a fence, and one used a piece of charcoal to draw concentric circles on it. The pair began to throw daggers at their target, and many of the other men soon wandered over to join.

Christi shook her head and snorted at the pitiful accuracy the group was demonstrating as each man stepped up to a line scratched into the earth with a boot heel. If they weren't any better with their swords, they were in the wrong line of work.

The man who had thrown when she snorted turned toward her, apparently having heard her. His throw had been better than the rest, but still had missed the center of the target by at least two finger breadths.

"Why don't you show us how it's done?" he said as he walked to retrieve his blade. There was no doubt as to the challenge in his tone.

Christi pushed away from the wall and pulled a dagger from its sheath on her outer thigh. It was a well-worn blade she used as a tool, rather than a weapon. She knew better than to play such games with a blade that her life could depend upon.

Amidst chuckles and whispers, she strode toward the line. Four paces before reaching it, she whipped her arm back and sent the dagger tumbling end over end. A moment later it thunked into the dead center of the target.

The wagon yard slipped into stunned silence for a moment, and then one of the sellswords let out a derisive snort.

"Nothing but luck."

"Bet you can't do it again," another agreed.

Seizing the opportunity, Christi asked, "How much?" as she walked over to retrieve her dagger.

The man rose to the challenge and slapped a copper coin down on top of an old crate.

"Anybody else want to try their luck?" she asked as she spun on her heel with dagger in hand. By the time she turned at the line, five more coins had joined the first.

Christi's arm whipped, and groans rang out as her dagger sunk into the dead center of the bullseye once more.

"Double or nothing," one man said as he retrieved her dagger. "But from where you threw the first time."

Christi shrugged and took four steps backward, wearing a crooked grin the whole while. Three men bowed out, not willing to risk their coin.

They were wise.

She had already taken a step toward the pile of coins before her dagger stuck into the wood. "Pleasure doing business with you, boys."

Most of the men wandered off, the novelty of the game having suddenly lost its luster. Christi raked the coppers into her hand and did a quick mental tally. They were small coins, but it was something.

By highsun, most of the men waiting in the yard had decided that the day was a bust. The few merchants who had rolled by the wagon yard either had guards in place, or must have felt that they didn't need them. Christi joined the exodus, stripped off her armor in her room, and took advantage of her winnings to have a filling meal at the inn.

Walking through town afterward, she noted even more changes that she'd missed on her last visit. Here, a store that had expanded. There, a house torn down to make room for another storefront. The place was becoming a true town, rather than a collection of farmers and tradesmen having decided to live in the same place.

The clatter of wood on wood attracted Christi's attention, and she wandered that way.

With growing prosperity came those hoping to take advantage of it, and not all of them were willing to earn their way with honest sweat. The small jail and attached office of the constable had expanded to include a barracks, and it was to there that the sound drew Christi.

In the yard outside the barracks, two young men fought with wooden swords. Several more men of about the same age looked on, along with an older man, who had the look of a veteran fighter.

Christi leaned against the corner of a barn to watch. The men were dripping with sweat as they clashed, and neither looked all that skilled to her. After a few passes, one of the pair feigned a high cut, and his opponent fell for it.

She shook her head as the victorious man thrust his wooden weapon into the other's chest. The feint and the stab were both sloppy. If she'd been on the receiving end of it, the man wouldn't have even been able to attempt the stab. Her sword would have ended the fight before he had the chance.

"Hold," the older man declared. "You may as well have screamed you were feigning that cut, Rosh. And you should have seen it coming, Gregor. You are getting better, though. We may just make soldiers of you two yet."

Christi snorted and shook her head. If the hopes of law and order hung on that pair's shoulders, the town was in real trouble.

"That's enough for now. Get some grub, but don't overdo it, because we're going to march afterward."

More than a few grumbles and groans greeted that announcement as the young men turned back toward their barracks.

With the show over, Christi pushed away from the wall. Before she could take a step, the older man turned and walked toward her. She could see several scars on his arms, and a few looked as if they had been serious wounds. Since he was still breathing, she assumed whoever had given them to him had come out second best.

"Something to say?" he asked as he approached.

She shrugged. "Nothing you didn't already say, except they look pretty green to me."

He looked her up and down, but his gaze wasn't the mindless leer she was used to.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Christi Crimm."

"Kin to Crimm the Grim?"

"My father."

He grunted and nodded his head. "Know him by reputation. Met a couple of your brothers. Jorfal Korikson."

She shook his hand when he offered it, finding he had a strong grip - which she matched.

"Hope that bunch isn't the town guard," she said as they let their hands fall.

"Recruits. Some of them may be some day. Take it you're not impressed?"

"I could have taken them both out at the same time."

A grin spread across Jorfal's face. "That so? Well, that would be something to see."

"Well, good luck with them. You're going to need it." Christi chuckled and turned to leave.

"Care to back up those words with a sword?"

She froze in her tracks and turned. "You really want me to humiliate your green recruits?"

"No, I thought I'd cross blades with you myself. Your brothers were a fair challenge, and I don't get one that often."

Christi shrugged - intrigued. "I've got nothing better to do. Why not."

"I do at the moment, though. Come back about supper time, after I've finished drilling the green horns?"

"You've got yourself a deal. Want to make it interesting? A wager?"

Jorfal let out a great, booming laugh. "I don't usually bet, but I'll wager you a beer."

She was hoping to earn a few more coins, but it was something. "Done. I'll be here. You'd better be good for that beer."

"You'd better," he countered as she walked away.

****

Having exhausted the possibilities of exploration, Christi ended up talking with Renna most of the afternoon. The other young woman's evening had gone as imagined. She was walking somewhat bowlegged, and couldn't wait to relate every detail of her tryst.

When Renna left to wash up in preparation to meet her lover again, Christi wandered over near the constable's office. The day had turned hot and sticky, so she found a shady spot and settled in to doze.

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The sound of the recruits marching back to the barracks roused her some time later. She waited until Jorfal dismissed them, and then stood to stretch while the men dispersed.

"Come on over and pick out something you like," Jorfal said as soon as he was alone on the practice field.

He led her to a small outbuilding where she found a fair array of wooden swords, daggers, and shields. Upon picking up the first one that looked to be the right length, she found them to be weighted to approximate a real weapon. The balance didn't feel right, though.

She tried two more before discovering one that felt natural in her hand. Upon stepping out of the building and giving it a few swings, she said, "This will work."

Jorfal chuckled and said, "Smarter than most of the recruits, that's for sure. Most of them grab the first one that comes to hand."

He then reached into the building and above the doorway to retrieve his weapon, which was a little broader of blade and slightly longer than the one Christi had selected.

"Two of three touches - blades only?" he asked.

Christi nodded, as it was a fairly standard set of rules meaning no kicks, fists, or wrestling.

The reason for the oppressive humidity announced itself with a rumble of thunder a moment later. A storm was rolling in, and it was doing so rapidly.

He looked toward the lightning-streaked clouds and said, "That could make things interesting."

"If it takes that long," Christi said confidently as she strode over to where she'd observed the men sparring earlier in the day.

Jorfal laughed and pulled off his shirt before taking up a position opposite her.

She couldn't help but look. Though he was much older - closer to her father's age than hers - he had a broad, muscular chest peppered with scars. His muscles working beneath the skin as he extended his sword toward her set off a chilly tingle between her legs.

But, there was a battle to be won.

She crossed her sword with his. After a tap, they both dropped into fighting crouches.

Christi knew he had an advantage in both reach and strength. That meant she had to use her speed to overcome it. It was nothing new, as that was the case with her father and brothers as well.

He attacked first with a stab toward her mid-section. She cleanly deflected the blow and danced to the side, not letting him close with her. Before she could counter, he launched a swipe at her arm, and she batted it away. This time, she was able to take a slash at him, stealing the momentum of his first assault.

Back and forth they went - wooden swords cracking and hissing as they traded blows. Sweat soon poured from both of their bodies in the humid air, but he was a seasoned veteran, and she was hardly a novice. Though she'd never seen real battle, she'd been tested time and time again by her father and brothers.

It wasn't one of them she faced this time, though. Mingling with the adrenaline of battle was something else - quite unexpected. It began as the faintest of hints, and rapidly swelled as they continued the dance of combat.

Christi was aroused.

The first blast of wind from the coming storm hit them, raising gooseflesh on their sweat-soaked skin. Dust and grit rode on the powerful gust, joining the sweat already stinging Christi's eyes. She saw the thrust coming, and brought her sword into line, but it was a fraction of a second too late to resist his strength.

Christi grunted as the tip of his sword jabbed into her shoulder.

"Point," he declared as he withdrew the weapon.

"Point," she agreed. If it had been a real fight, the cut would have certainly slowed her down.

"Got the dirt out of my eyes a little quicker," he said as he stepped back toward the starting position.

A tickle arose between her legs when a fresh rush of wetness gathered there. The arousal that had bubbled up within her wasn't ebbing in the slightest. Her heart raced from the combined excitement of battle and desire as she watched him lift his sword.

The wind continued unabated - gusting even more powerfully as the storm drew closer. The first sprinkles blew in as Christi took her place opposite her opponent, and increased to a downpour when they crossed their wooden swords.

Once again, the battle was joined. Christi danced on light feet, deflecting his powerful blows and seeking openings to make her own attacks. The driving rain soon made the footing treacherous, but she compensated and kept the pressure on. Within a minute, her clothing was saturated, and her shirt grew transparent - clinging to her like a second skin.

His eyes focused on them for only a moment, but when he glanced at her all-but-bare breasts, she was ready. The point of her sword darted in toward his chest, and his parry was too slow. Exaltation welled up within her as the wooden weapon stabbed into his shoulder - almost a mirror blow to his that ended the previous round.

"Point," he said, and then laughed. "Caught me out there."

Christi smiled and pushed a lock of sodden hair away from her forehead and eyes, making absolutely no effort to conceal her attributes. A chill shot up her spine when he openly admired them.

Before they could prepare for the deciding round, a deafening crack of thunder sounded, startling them both. The brilliant flash drew their eyes to where the bolt had slammed into the earth - far too close for comfort.

Shouting over yet another roar of thunder, Jorfal said, "Why don't we call this one a draw for now, before the gods get in the game?" Christi nodded, and he yelled, "This way."

She jogged at his side, once again catching his eyes gravitating toward her bouncing breasts. He led her around the barracks to a smaller building in the back and jerked the door open to let her in.

Christi dashed in out of the rain and took in her surroundings. The place was small - consisting only of the room she was standing in, and a bedroom without a door beyond. It was sparsely furnished, but decorated with martial trophies.

Jorfal shook the water out of his hair and tossed his wooden blade on the table. "Have a seat. It may be a draw, but I'll buy you a drink anyway."

"Works for me," she said as she put her sword down and pulled out one of the plain wooden chairs.

"You can scrap, that's for sure," he said as he retrieved a jug from a shelf. "Not afraid to say I'm glad it was pissing and pouring so nobody saw me lose that point to a girl, though. Your brothers have been the only other ones to give me a workout in ages."

Christi chuckled and grabbed the cup he sat down in front of her. His clothes were clinging to him as well, and with him standing next to her, she could see a rather intriguing silhouette beneath his pants.

He poured a small amount of clear liquid into her cup. "They call this White Lightning. Fits that mess outside. It kicks like a mule."

She knew the corn liquor well, as she'd been sneaking it from her father's stash for some time. The momentary flash of shock on his face when she tossed back the potent brew changed to one of respect as she sat the cup down.

"Well, damn me. You fight and drink like a man, even if you damn sure don't look like one." He laughed and poured his own drink.

Christi's arousal reached a fever pitch. She knew there was supposed to be a kind of dance to the whole thing, but she was in no mood to wait. The ache between her legs was screaming for attention now, and she had a man right in front of her who seemed to be interested in helping her with that.

It was time to find out what all the fuss was about.

When Jorfal downed his drink, she stood up and said, "Think I'm going to get out of these wet clothes."

"If you don't wait out the storm first, you're just going to get wetter." His voice trailed off and his eyes widened when she pulled her shirt over her head.

She was positive that she couldn't get any wetter. She was practically dripping.

Without another word, she turned and strutted toward the bed. The creak of his chair sliding away from the table sounded before she'd even taken a step, and she heard his boots clunking on the boards right behind her.

She had just enough time to turn and face him at the side of the bed before he caught up with her. The look in his eyes was far different from that of the boys she was used to. He had a confidence that they lacked, and he demonstrated it by reaching up to squeeze her breasts.

"Haven't seen a pair this nice in a dog's age," he said as he squeezed and teased her nipples with his thumbs.

A touch of anxiety mingled with the intense pleasure, and she couldn't think of a response. He grinned, apparently not expecting one, and leaned down.

Christi gasped when his lips engulfed her nipple. He sucked and teased the stiff point with his tongue, causing her a moment of lightheadedness. She moaned as her hands found their way to his back and followed the contours of his muscles.

Jorfal let out low growls as he sucked her nipple even harder, and then switched to the other. Her back arched from the change in sensation, thrusting the firm globe against his lips.

"Like that, do you?" he asked before taking her nipple in again.

Somehow, she stopped the gasp of, "Oh yes," in favor of, "That's not bad."

He chuckled around her stiff bud, and then said, "Oh, I can do better."

There was no holding back her gasp when his hand dropped between her legs and strong fingers pressed her pants against her sex. Her nails dug into his back and she shuddered when he straightened to give her the hungriest stare she'd ever seen in her life.

Showing the dexterity of a practiced warrior, he stepped back, lifted one foot, and pulled off his boot. Christi pulled off her shoes as well, dropping them to the floor and wiping the mud off on her pants. He popped the buttons on his pants, but instead of dropping them, he moved in and gripped her waist, pushing down.

Christi sat on the bed at his prompting, and then reclined on the rough woolen blanket. He popped open the buttons on her pants, and then dug his fingers beneath the waistband. Pants and panties both slid down her legs at the same time and pooled forgotten on the floor.

"Ah yeah," he said as he combed his fingers through the dark curls between her legs. Then one thick finger wriggled through the nest and into her wet heat.

Christi whimpered and gripped the blanket with both hands, reeling from the sensation of fingers not her own touching her for the first time.

He was hardly done. His hands slipped in behind her knees, bending them and almost effortlessly turning her longways on the bed. He then climbed in as well and pushed her up toward the pillow. She stiffened when he spread her knees apart and leaned in - still not sure how she felt about the prospect of someone licking her down there.

The very first swipe of his tongue delving a furrow into her curls erased every hint of trepidation.

"Uh huh," she whimpered as the slippery organ caressed her folds. It was so much different - so much more intense - than the touch of her fingers.

"Ah yeah, that pussy tastes good," he said with his hot breath washing over her folds.

"Don't stop," she said in a rush, reaching up to pull him back down to her aching need.

A rumbling chuckle escaped him as he dived back in.

Try as she might, there was no hope of maintaining her composure. His tongue danced over her folds, pressed into her, and washed over her clit. She never knew what delight she was going to experience next, and each seemed more wonderful than the last. Her hands held him tight against her as she writhed on the bed and moaned in bliss.

A sharp whimper burst from her lips when one of his thick fingers slid inside her. He let out a grunt of pleased surprise when her walls clamped down on the digit, and turned his tongue's attention to her aching bud.

Christi wailed from the combination of his tongue rolling her clit and his finger stroking into her canal. Heat and pressure swelled behind her mound - far beyond anything she'd experienced while playing with herself. Her breath came in pants broken by whimpers and yelps as she rushed headlong toward climax.

His lips suddenly closed over her hood, sucking her bud from beneath the protective sheath. As soon as his tongue touched her naked clit, orgasm ferociously claimed her.

She screamed as her back arched from the wave of ecstasy shooting through her. His grip on her thigh tightened even as her fingers closed on his hair, keeping her clit locked firmly between his lips. His tongue continued its relentless assault as she thrashed and screamed - utterly consumed by an orgasm the likes of which she could have never even imagined.

On and on it went, until her throat was hoarse and she could do little more than violently twitch with every new pulse of climax shooting through her. She was barely aware of his lips leaving her for a few rapid heartbeats, and unsure it had actually happened until she forced her tightly closed eyes open.

A ragged gasp drew air into her lungs as he jerked down his pants. A moment of panic gripped her when she saw his cock. It looked massive as it bounced between his legs while he finished pulling off his pants. As soon as his legs were free, he rose to his knees and moved closer.

Jorfal caressed her thighs and growled when she shuddered from the aftershock it set off. "Good, lass?"

Still struggling to catch her breath, she nodded, but never took her eyes off his throbbing manhood.

He slid a thumb in behind the organ and tapped it against the damp curls over her nether lips, making her gasp, and leaving the head glistening with her wetness. "You ready to come up again, then?"

A hundred frightened refusals flittered through her head even as her pussy ached with renewed need. She couldn't see how it could possibly fit inside her, and yet part of her was desperate to try. Then she thought of Renna and the other girls she knew who had already lost their virginity. Her warrior's pride rose up to squash the fear.

"I want it," she said while parting her knees wide.

"Ah yeah, lass," he said in a low rumble as he took aim with his manhood.

Christi's heartbeat raced as he rubbed the tip of his cock over her folds, making it slick with her juices. She sucked in a fast breath when she felt the head press against the entrance of her canal. He curled his fingers around her thighs a moment later and pushed.

The searing pain of her deflowering forced a whimper past her lips before she could clench her teeth in defiance.

Little did she know that it was but a fraction of the agony most women felt their first time. Riding horses and rough play with her brothers had torn her maidenhead many years before. His thick cock was only ripping through the last of that tattered barrier as it stretched her canal.

"Gods, that pussy is tight," Jorfal growled as he stopped pushing.

Breathing hard, she fought the pain as she would any other battle, and looked over her breasts. She was shocked to see that barely half of his cock was inside her.

"I'll not give you more than you can take, Lass," he said when he saw her eyes widen. One of his hands left her thigh and moved between her legs.

Christi shuddered when he began to rub his finger over her hood. The sudden spike of pleasure overwhelmed the pain for a moment, and she moaned.

"There you go," he said as he gave a slight rock of his hips.

She whimpered from the fresh stab of pain, but with his fingers teasing her bud, she began to feel a sense of fullness as well. It grew stronger as he worked his hips in short pumps and picked up the pace of his finger.

Slowly, but surely, she began to writhe on the bed - in pleasure rather than pain. Whimpers and moans passed her lips unbidden as he stoked her fires with his fingers and cock. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream when the invader slipped an inch or two deeper.

"Damn me, you feel good," he growled as his cock retreated, and then thrust back into her.

"So good," she echoed, feeling a warm tickle arise in her loins.

"Faster?"

"Yes," she gasped.

He responded first with his fingers, slipping them between her folds to wet them before returning to her clit. The two digits flashed back and forth over her hood, frequently exposing the sensitive bud beneath to direct stimulation. Then his cock began to stab into her - fast and deep.

The pain faded into a distant memory as ecstasy like nothing she'd ever felt flooded through her. Her breasts bounced under the assault, and she cried out with every thrust. She felt the first slap of his balls and knew every hard inch of him was buried inside her. It sent her soaring even higher.

Jorfal grunted and growled as he rocked her body, and his face grew red. His voice was tight and emerging from between clenched teeth when he asked, "Are you close?"

She couldn't answer at first - unable to force the words out between the grunts and yelps tumbling from her lips. It was only when he let out an especially loud growl and the relentless pounding faltered for a second or two that she found her voice.

"Yes! Don't stop!" she demanded in a scream.

"Do it. Come up for me," he growled.

Christi teetered on the cusp of oblivion for what felt like an eternity. Her throat tightened and she silently pleaded for release to anyone or anything that would listen.

And then it ripped through her like a thunderbolt.

A screeching wail burst from her lips as she exploded into orgasm. Her muscles all tightened, lifting her back up from the bed. Her vision dimmed, growing dark at the edges and shot through with sparkling points of brilliant light. All the while, his cock continued to slam into her clenched sheath.

She sucked in a loud breath when he suddenly jerked his cock free and cool air rushed over her hot flesh. She cried out and thrashed when it sent another wave of climactic energy shooting up her spine and crashing out into her extremities. The mattress dipped next to her head, and she opened her eyes just in time for him to push his pussy-slick cock into her already open mouth.

The taste of her juices gave her chills, but she had only a moment to savor it before he let out a roar and offered her a new flavor. Her stomach threatened to rebel as the viscous cream burst into her mouth and hit the back of her throat, but she fought it, closing her lips around him instead.

Still coming, she sucked his pulsing organ with what little coordination she could muster. Spurt after spurt of semen flooded her mouth, and she swallowed as she fought for breath. The sensation of his seed sliding down her throat wasn't particularly pleasant, but the way he trembled like a day-old kitten was.

He jerked his manhood away so quickly that it made a pop as it slipped from her lips. The sound he made was what she imagined a death gurgle would sound like, and he fell away as if sliding off a sword in his belly. A powerful aftershock tore through her as he sat down hard, and then flopped onto his back.

Though twinges of pain were reasserting themselves as her orgasm waned, Christi smiled. He looked every inch the defeated enemy, twitching and groaning on the bed. A warm glow settled over her, spreading from the pool of his cream in her belly and her tingling sex.

"G-gods, Lass," he said in a weak voice. "Think my balls tried to come up."

She scooted a little closer and touched his softening organ with her fingertip. He cried out, flinched, and grabbed her wrist.

"That was plain wicked," he growled as he released her.

Christi laughed, exalting in the power she had over him in his spent state, and lay back to bask in the afterglow. She knew exactly what all the fuss was about now.

And she couldn't wait to do it again.

Published 
Written by RejectReality
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