Anal Interrupted

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Jarl Hengist explores the wombless tunnel of a servant maid.
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Hengist had been pacing the timbered halls of his hold for hours, looking for a particular chambermaid for whom he had developed a lust in recent days, a supple, hazel-eyed youth by the name of Matilda. Wearing only his hose, his naked feet told upon the cold stone floor as he searched everywhere he thought she could be. In these moments, his desire and anticipation for her grew; it was a lusty anticipation, and a tent had begun to rise in his form-fitting trousers. The obscene protrusion was enough to cause quite a stir among the servants as he shamelessly paced the halls in search for Matilda, poking people whom he would accidentally bump into around blind corners.

"Ah, there you are my dear sweet honeycomb," he gleefully uttered upon finding Matilda in the laundry. Hengist took Matilda by her soft, blushing cheeks and drew her toward him for a kiss. His bulge kept them several inches apart. With his hands gently upon her face, Hengist looked lustily into Matilda's eyes and spoke of his longing for her. "I can no longer resist temptation, your charm is so great and your beauty is so vast, I must have you share my bed, at once. I will not implore after you any longer." He took her by the hand and turned to lead her off.

Matilda withdrew from the Jarl, and acted, for a moment, as though she would refuse him. She was secretly very pleased that the Jarl desired to take her as a mistress, but that didn't stop her from playing the games that beautiful young girls are known for - besides, what sport would she be for a conquering king like Jarl Hengist if she just lifted her gown up over her head in the laundry, not even on a proper bed?

Matilda prattled on in her sweet, soft tone. "What about your queen, my Jarl? What would she think of you alighting upon every pretty little flower you happened to lay eyes upon?" Matilda returned to her task of folding linins, trying to ignore the obvious shape of the Jarl's tumefaction imprinted in his tight hosen, straining for an exit. Busily folding, Matilda continued to play coy with the Jarl. "Besides, is not the queen yours alone to pollinate?"

"My sweet darling, a bee does not suckle from just one lonesome flower in a wide meadow full of lovely blossoms; instead, he tastes the nectar of many, to satisfy a constant hunger." Hengist then said to her, "Alas, my queen is absent this night, and I shall not be left to spill my seed onto the ground like a common churl sowing his crop in the field. As I am your Jarl, I claim the right to take you as my mistress, and I would beseech you not to refuse me!" Hengist said as he tugged at the bulge that lead him like a dowsing rod to Matilda, looking deeply at her with a powerful hunger. Hengist took the wad of linin from Matilda and tossed them aside, whereupon the pair departed for the King's own chamber.

Hengist unfastened the broaches of Matilda's woolen apron and impatiently flung it to the ground, and then promptly set her alluring shapes free from her linin shift robe. Matilda's pert young breasts, shaped like perfect teardrops and tipped with small pink nipples, were exposed to the delight of Hengist's hungry eyes. Hengist stepped back and took a moment to admire the figure standing before him. Matilda's alabaster body stood out in beautiful contrast to the long flow of her raven hair, which framed her youthful face with elegance.

"By the sweet Lady Frigg!" He exclaimed with hushed enthusiasm.

Hengist plumped her pouty little breasts into a cleavage, placed his face between them, and deeply inhaled the arousing scent of her naked skin. He then gave each nipple, in equal measure of attention, a small, wet suck. He watched with excitement as her nipples became taught and stiff, and tiny little pebbles formed in the light pink circles.

"Take off your bottoms, now." Matilda did as Hengist demanded, and slipped them over the curve of her hips and down her creamy, youthful legs. Impatiently, he slid his own trousers off, and the hardness that they barely restrained sprang forward, like an angered viper leaping from its brushy nest. He kicked his pants off of his ankles with a series of rapid, jerking movements, and they flew off to the side in a tousle. Hengist reached hungrily for Matilda's now naked body; his cock throbbed in anticipation of the union nigh to come.

Together they climbed into the great bed, from footboard to headboard turned down with the finest cloth in all of the land. "My Jarl, if it is my duty to take your seed, then may the Vanir bless you with a mighty son," said Matilda as their two naked bodies came warmly together. "My sweet, the divines do not grant sons from whence I plan to empty my seed tonight," Hengist chuckled. His eyes gleamed with excitement.

Confused, Matilda laid back into a comfortable cloud of pillows and opened her milk-white legs, only to be flipped onto her belly and coached into an up arch, as Hengist forcefully corrected her position more to his own liking - so that her plump pussy lips and asshole were exposed. He placed his hands upon the curve of her milk-white bottom and lingered a moment, rubbing and squeezing, and then he leaned in toward her sensitive flesh. She felt his hot breath unfurl against her backside. Matilda became moist as his face hovered close to her hairy little sex, where he paused to suck in her scent, like an animal in rut. Then he stiffened his tongue and drew it along the length of her pouty pink lips, all the way to her tight rear hole, where he tasted her in the way a serpent does. He sharpened his tongue and pushed it deep inside of her tight, wrinkled pink ring; it winked as he withdrew it from her, as though conveying a secret promise known only to him. He licked and sucked her savory ambrosial parts - as well as the little hole he intended to have - and dipped a ridged wet finger inside of her, until he was satisfied that she was slick enough to take him.

Hengist wet his eager cock, stroked his throbbing length until it glistened, and then poised himself against Matilda's tiny rear-end hole. "Matilda, reach back your hands and spread apart your ass for me, so that I may have you more easily," the Jarl demanded. She did as the Jarl asked and spread her ass wide apart, revealing the light pink flesh nestled within a forest of black. Matilda winced and let out a shriek as the Jarl's lance pushed past the ring of muscle and sank inside of her. He was so deep that she felt as though both of her holes were full. She could feel him in the pit of her belly. Matilda buried her bonnie face into a pillow, and in the darkness she screamed. She felt both a scathing pain and a deep, filling, fiery ecstasy.

Matilda's cries, a meld of pain and pleasure, caught the ear of one in the castle named Gudrid, a housekeeper, who, out of curiosity, pressed an ear to the door and listened in. A few moments later the carpenter known as Olaf happened by, after having finished installing iron sconces down the hall. He knew instantly what was going on when he heard the closed-door-muffled sound of a grunting man, a moaning woman, and the rhythmic slapping of flesh. "By the mighty Frikko, he's giving m'lady one hell of a mighty humping, aye! Good for him!" Olaf heartily chuckled as he mockingly pumped his hips. "I don't think it is m'lady the Jarl has in the sheets with him - I think he keeps a mistress," the housekeeper responded, wide-eyed and eager to gossip. Olaf furrowed his brow in skepticism and asked, "Why do you speak of such a thing? Who then does the Jarl make conquest of?"

Gudrid blushed as she spoke the following words. "Myself and the other housekeepers saw the Jarl running thither and yon earlier, wild and wearing nothing but his hose, and he was so stiff that it looked like he was setting up a tent!" Gudrid spaced her hands apart in an attempt to approximate the size of the Jarl's gift, and continued animatedly with her tale.

"He nearly ran us over with his pointed pants in his mad dash through the timber halls! He was desperately searching for the young Matilda, throwing open doors and peering around corners like he'd lost the key to a precious hoard. We thought it a strange thing to see the Jarl on this end of the house, and in such a lewd condition. We are all so used to seeing him in finer raiment."

A young kitchen girl, who was called Æster, caught sight of the growing group and hurried over to see what the fuss was all about. Pray, what is the reason we are gathering here at the Jarl's door, has something happened to the good king?" Just then, Matilda let out another chorus of pleasured screams. The kitchen girl blushed at the obvious sound of sex, so loud and unrestrained, and she tried to cover her blushed cheeks with her hands. She herself had only recently had knowledge of a boy her age, and recalled just how much she wanted to vocalize her own satisfaction; the memory sent melting warmth straight to her feminine center and her nipples tingled. She joined the rest of the people as they listened in on the Jarl's activity from the keyhole.

Meanwhile, as the crowd grew, a messenger was making his way speedily toward the Jarl's privy chamber, with an urgent request for battle gear and reinforcements from Jutish mercenaries camped in East Anglia, wholly unaware of his own pending grievance. Herald was Hengist's highest-ranking thane and most trusted brother. Hengist and Harald had, in their younger days before Hengist's ascension as Jarl, fought in many battles and conquered many a coy lady, both cases triumphantly side by side. But at this moment, Herald was not considering the possibility that the jarl would be in the midst of pounding the pillows with a mistress, and not sleeping off a night of poetry, many cups of mead, and merry-making.

Herald arrived at the Jarl's door to find a gaggle of house servants gathered around, with their ears leant close to the iron keyhole. They quickly scattered at the sight of the thane, whose station was evident in the raiment he wore. Harald gave little thought in regard as to the reason for the flock of servant's camped at the Jarl's door, for his thoughts were centered on an unrest that had erupted between Jutish mercenaries and King Vortigern's men. He gathered his fingers into a fist and hammered loudly on the Jarl's chamber door. Herald was prepared to rouse, what he thought, was a sleeping Jarl, and was confident his lord's anger at being disturbed from dreams would be short-lived once he had heard the urgent message.

A rapid series of knocks told loudly through the great room's wooden doors, and before a response could be given, they were powerfully flung open. Harald stepped hastily inside the room.

"My lord...my lord, I come bearing the most dreadful word from our men on the Island." Hengist interrupted in a booming voice, ... "by Wotan's eye! Do you not see, Harald...I am in the middle of a conquest of my own, among these damned sheets?" He gestured toward the subservient, heart-shaped buttocks pressed tight against his thighs. "I am lance-deep in this woman's ass!"

Hengist leapt from the bed, his skin-spear still iron-hard and pointing, and hurried Harald back outside, then slammed the door, leaving Harald standing in the hall and staring at a closed door. Matilda barely had time to react to the intrusion. What if it had been the Lady Aodrena Jarlwife? She blushed at having been seen in such a position by one of the Jarl's men, but breathed a sigh of relief that it was not the queen.

"I was nearly ready to loose myself when you came barging in! Now I shall have to start all over!" He continued to scold Harald of the interruption through the closed door. "I thought you were my queen, come to catch me in violation of my oath of fidelity! My heart pounds with fear of that woman!"

When Hengist had calmed from the shock of interruption, he cracked the door just enough to peer through, and spoke these orders: "Gather the council. Prepare a thyng. Ready a feast. We will convene after I have had this woman in a way the God's did not construct us to behave. And Harald, speak no word of what you have seen in my chamber, for Wotan gave his eye in exchange for all knowledge; you will give yours in order to keep your life, if word of this gets out." When he had finished his speech, Hengist pushed the doors closed.

With his instructions, Harald departed the Jarl's door, and made swift action toward the mead-hall; the place where war was discussed, grievances aired, oaths of fealty were sworn, and the Bards sang of ancestral deeds, all with honeyed drink and feasts of sweet meats. Once under open sky, he took the path familiar to all warriors, the one leading toward the mead-benches. His battle-tackle rattled, and crushed gravel shifted and crunched underfoot as he moved swiftly toward the great timbered hall.

In the midst of the interruption, Matilda had drawn the blankets over her naked body to conceal herself from the messenger, in case it was the queen. "Now, my sweet flower, where were we?" Hengist took a fistful of fabric and jerked the covers away from her, so that they could resume their tryst. Matilda once again positioned herself over a plump pillow, and offered her un-natural hole to Hengist, for his pleasure. The jarl kissed her fleshy cheeks, bit at them too, and like a serpent, wet her furrow with his eager tongue. He slithered inside of her wet butthole with such ease that she did not even wince this time. Balanced upon his powerful legs, battle-hardened muscles ridged and rippling, Hengist rutted so hard that the slapping of flesh sounded more like a fight than any form of intimacy. Their sexual collisions could be seen as waves in Matilda's well-rounded rear.

Matilda soon found herself lost in the unusual mixture of pleasure and pain; how she felt so full so deep and stretched so wide, it was sensationally shocking. Fiery little pins of pleasure stung her ravaged rear end as Hengist drove his pillar deeper and deeper. His testicles bulged under the pressure of their sexual impact each time he pressed himself to the hilt inside of Matilda.

She reached beneath herself, cupped and squeezed at her horny little breasts- tugged and rolled her turgid, pink nipples between her thumb and forefinger.

A feeling further south ached for attention, and so she trailed towards the cry. She fingered through her silky muff, found her vulva swollen and radiating a pleasant heat; her dripping folds and her little bud begged for a light stroking. Her breathing grew shallow and her pulse quickened. Almost instantly, she went black with wave after wave of pulsing bliss, far more powerful than anything she had ever conjured by herself in secret.

Hengist pumped feverishly, inching toward his own rapture. He gripped the curve of Matilda's youthful hips and drove himself deep inside the forbidden tunnel, and delighted in how the tight, virginal walls squeezed his giant phallic. The king's breathing soon deepened, his strokes soon slowed, and his powerful body started to quake. Hengist belted out a deep, berserker's roar as the blackening wave crashed over him, like an angry sea slamming into the prow of a longship.

As the King shivered in orgasmic delight, Matilda felt the hot, thick jets of semen fire against her inner walls, flooding her wombless tunnel with the sticky substance. However odd Hengist's choice of hole was to her, Matilda was nearly brought to a second climax, as the King's phallic jerked within her and filled her to the brim with the white-hot liquid essence.

Finally, Hengist was able to give up his seed, and he collapsed in refraction, completely satisfied and, for a moment, free from the lustful demons that distract a man from his purpose. Upon removing himself from Matilda's body, the white mess rushed hotly out of her backside and dripped down her cleft in rivulets.

"Matilda my dear, you will have to offer me your ass more often. I see now why the Roman's speak so highly of the un-natural act; it is like knowing an innocent virgin each and every time." Hengist then said with a hearty king's laughter, "And they call us barbarians!"

"My Jarl, I am a virgin... a fresh furrow for your seed." Matilda gave the Jarl a doe-eyed look and spread her delicate, pink petals for him to see, glistening thoroughly from the pounding she just received. "I've never even known the feeling of a finger inside me," she said with a smooth, provocative hiss.

The Jarl was tempted by such talk; he could even feel his cock begin to throb again at the sight of Matilda's spread legs, the little pink orchid glowed invitingly from within her dark, youthful hedge. But for now, the Jarl resolved to put thoughts of sexual conquest aside. Once his soft composure returned, he hung himself over the chamber pot and pissed, and as he did so, his mind turned to the news of strife from the Island Kingdom and to the defense of his kinsmen.

My sweet mistress, your delicate flower will have to wait for another time to be plucked, for now, my kingdom calls. See your-self cleaned, love. You must return to your duties, just the same." The Jarl picked up Matilda's dress and handed it to her, then walked her to the door.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
Cleaning Matilda

Being English, I have, of course, been thoroughly trained in what is required by the cleaning of Matilda

The youth will most certainly not be required to clean his-self!

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
Loved it!

Bloody sexy and well written!!

You should write, and not just erotica!!! Write properly, full on novels! You have a bloody skill man, don't waste it!

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