The Huldra

Thank you to my wonderful wife for taking the time to edit this story.

All mistakes herein are my own.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

***

Short in height, pale skinned, with long hair that was blond to the point of nearly being white, wearing a somewhat worn, green dress that hugged a curved, fit body, the woman walked cautiously out of the tall, dark forest into the clearing, in the centre of which stood a comfortable looking cabin with smoke gently wafting from its stone chimney. She paused, feeling uncertain, and looked at the clearing carefully.

Some chickens scratched about in the dirt, pecking at the ground when they found something. An orderly stack of wood rested against a cabin wall behind a chopping block and an axe. Against another was a long bench, filled with some boards, a vice, and a saw. A robust garden filled with healthy vegetable plants basked in the sunlight that reached just over the treetops. Flowers grew out of wooden planters hanging just beneath the cabin's windows.

Drawing in her breath slowly she let the odours from the clearing waft through her nostrils. The Goddess had commanded. Then she determinedly walked up the path to the front door.

The door, which was a well made door, much like the rest of the cabin, was bound oaken planks evenly fastened together, with a bronze knocker in its centre. It caused her a momentary hesitation as uncertainty took hold again. Her hand hovered at the knocker when the latch turned from the other side and the door swung open.

Her hand swung down to hold the basket draped over her other arm and she smiled her prettiest smile, which was a very lovely smile. It lit up her face, pushed up her cheeks, widened her already wide, blue eyes, and parted her full lips to reveal clean, white, even teeth. It was a friendly, disarming smile that promised happiness, even if she did not feel that way.

A tall muscular man, with dark, mischievous eyes, unkempt brown hair, and a slightly darker beard, dressed in a tunic, trousers, with the straps hanging below his waist, and woollen socks, stood in the doorway regarding her, his hands gripped the doorway as he leaned out toward her. She found him physically very appealing. A friendly smile crept up his face as he looked her over.

"Hello," she said and held out her hand. "I'm Maja."

"I am Johan," he said in a deep voice that vibrated ever so pleasantly in her ear and took her hand in his. His was warm and strong against hers and his callouses rubbed softly against her skin.

"I am truly sorry to bother you." Her hand seemed to reluctantly slide out of his and returned to resting on the basket as a plaintive look fell upon her face. "I was out gathering berries and mushrooms yesterday when I became lost. I have only just found my way again, but I am tired and hungry and would greatly appreciate if I could rest in your home. I have berries and mushrooms to offer." She held up her basket and gestured at the bounty.

His face had fallen into a look of great concern at her story. He reached past her basket and rubbed her shoulder.

"You poor thing," he sympathized. "To spend the night out alone. Please keep your food, it was hard earned."

He moved out of the way of the door to her side, sliding his hand across her back as he gestured through the door with the other. "Please come in. I will give you some food."

She patted his gesturing arm, feeling the muscle of his forearm through his shirt. "Thank you," she said and walked through the doorway.

"And your shoes, where are your shoes? Have you walked barefoot all night?" he asked in dismay. He closed the door behind them and let the latch fall with a click.

"Oh," she said. She glanced down at her dirt flecked, bare feet. She thought for a moment before responding. "I lost them at a stream. I became stuck in the mud and could only free myself by leaving them behind."

A sad look crossed over her face. "It has been a difficult night," she said.

"Let me comfort you," he said, his face concerned. "Please sit at the table closest to the fire. I will get you some porridge."

The interior of the cabin was well lit by the windows. The log walls had been laid over with neatly fitted, sanded, white painted, wood boards, lined at the top and bottom by yellow painted wood mouldings, with carved flowers painted red at intervals. The shelves, cupboards, and fireplace mantle were similar in their colour and carvings. The table was stained as opposed to painted, to bring out the grain of the oaken wooden planks that made its surface.

She looked intently at the decor and ran a hand over the table's polished smooth surface as she made her way to the chair closest to the fireplace. She maintained her smile despite fretting inside.

"Did you build this cabin?" she asked as she sat down. She slid her nails over the surface of the table, feeling hardly a groove where the boards joined.

Johan bent close to her over the fire and spooned some porridge into a bowl, from a pot hanging near the fire. "Yes I did," he replied. He straightened up and set the bowl in front of her with a spoon. "I am a woodcutter and a carpenter. I work at the wood mill nearby. I have done a lot of work in the homes around this area." He spoke proudly as he set a cup of water before her.

"You are very skilled with your tools," she commented. She ate some of the porridge. He was pleasant and charming, but she fretted some more.

"That I am," he responded and winked.

As she ate, he sat down in the chair next to her and reached down and picked up the foot nearest to him, examining it between his legs. "I can see no damage, but your feet must hurt from walking through the forest."

She turned her body to allow him to pick up her other foot as she continued to eat. "And this one is okay as well," he said. "Let's clean them." He put her foot down. He went to the counter and brought out a bowl, which he filled with water from a pail under the counter, and slung a cloth over his shoulder. He put these on the floor next to his chair, sat and picked up one of her feet and placed it in his lap again.

Watching him as she ate, she found the porridge was filling a void in her stomach she hadn't realized she had. Despite the mushrooms and berries, food had not been on her mind this morning.

He washed her feet with the wet cloth, the cool water next to the heat of the fire felt very pleasant. His hands were sure and he removed the dirt quickly. Soon her mind calmed from its fretful state and she began to think of other things.

While he washed, she caught him not so inconspicuously stealing looks at her body, at her breasts, her waist, and everywhere else, while his fingers lingered for a little too long on the skin of her legs. It felt very nice. To encourage him, she smiled. He returned her smile with a broad grin and gave her foot a gentle squeeze as his eyes lingered on her lips.

"The heat from this fire relaxes me," she said. The porridge was finished and she drank the water. He stood up, still grinning, and returned her bowl and the wash water back to the counter.

"The heat from that fire will relax away all of your concerns. You can feel it down here," he said, rubbing his flat middle. He took the cup from her and set it on the counter. "I should get some socks and shoes for you." He walked through one of four doors in the back wall, quickly returning with a pair of woollen socks and some leather shoes.

She eyed the socks and shoes, which were too small for his feet. "Do you have a wife?" she asked.

"No," he said and paused, as if in thought, then spoke again. "They are my sister's."

He sat down before her again. Arching an eyebrow at such garments, nevertheless, she placed a foot expectantly between his legs as he set the shoes down and retained the socks.

His eyes roved over her face and down her body as he spoke. "She left to go hunting this morning. I'm not expecting her back until close to nightfall." He picked up her foot with his free hand. The socks remained rolled in his other hand.

"Leaving you all alone to get into all kinds of trouble," she said slowly. She pushed forward with the foot he held and gently poked his crotch with her toes, encountering his growing interest. Surprised, he looked up. She challenged him with her eyes, knowing the effect their icy blue depths had. He dropped the socks and took her foot firmly into both hands, squeezing it ever so gently as he did.

Unrealized tension lifted from her foot. As she closed her eyes to savour the feeling, she exhaled deeply. Too long had it been since she had felt such a touch.

She opened her eyes again to find Johan looking intently at her. "I think all kinds of trouble has found me," he said softly. He squeezed her foot again and pressed his thumbs into the arch.

A great deal more tension released and a deep sound of satisfaction issued from her mouth. She sat up a bit straighter, gripped the sides of her chair, and eyed him languidly, like a cat, through half open eyes.

He continued to alternatively squeeze and rub her foot with his large hands, eliciting further sounds of satisfaction. He pulled her foot down, stretching her instep between his hands and causing a soft cracking sound as some tendons readjusted.

"Ahhhh," said Maja, smiling. She shrugged her shoulders as he laughed softly.

"You must have walked for miles," he said. He put down her foot and she frowned. He picked up the other and she smiled again. "You have such tension that I must be forceful to release it. Either that or you are very strong."

She didn't respond, but instead smiled her prettiest smile. He fell silent as he watched her face.

Sitting forward in her chair a bit, she forced her foot forward just enough that her toes just rubbed his crotch. He looked down and then back up at her face as he kneaded and rubbed her foot, a wanton smile across his lips, hunger in his eyes. His hands and the look sent a tingle up her leg. At her toes, between squeezes, she was sure that something was firming up.

Reaching down he pulled her chair closer. Her foot brushed past his crotch and settled against his hard stomach. He pulled her so close that she had to bend her knee up to allow for the close space. Her dress slid away from her knee and across her thigh to reveal the soft, white skin beneath. She arched her eyebrows and held her dress down in the centre.

"What would your sister say?" she asked.

He ran his hands slowly up her calf as he gently but insistently pressed with his fingers, working the muscles of her calves. The tingling sensation from his fingers had spread up between her legs. His eyes moved slowly down, taking in her thigh, and she was sure that from his angle, and despite her undergarments, that he could see where her leg met her bottom.

"I am my own man," he said. "And she need not bother with what I do." He smiled wickedly.

He reached down and quickly pulled her chair right up against his flexing his arm as he did so. Her lips were parted, she was ready to mate, but to her surprise he was a patient man. He moved her foot across his stomach and placed it at his side up against the back of his chair. Then he picked up her other leg and placed its foot against his stomach. Her dress slid down on this side and she had to hold it in the centre lest she reveal herself fully.

She was tempted to simply let go of her dress. Her chest rose and fell more quickly and her face was flushed as her eyes sought out his. Not for years had she felt this hunger. Massaging the calve as his eyes locked with hers, he did not quicken his pace. She willed herself to hold onto her dress.

Working deftly, while she shifted impatiently in her chair, their eyes lingering on one another, he finished massaging her calve and set that foot on his other side up against the back of his chair. Reaching down, he pulled his tunic free of his trousers and off over his head. The heat from the fireplace seemed to burn hotter behind her at that moment. Flexing his muscular torso, hair matching the colour of his beard across his chest, he tossed the tunic to the side and placed his hands on the insides of her thighs near her knees.

The skin on his powerful arms rippled as his hands slowly slid down her thighs. The urge to rake her fingers up his arms, across his shoulders, and down his chest was strong.

She eyed him hungrily and let go of her dress. It slipped back to reveal her undergarments, short and tight, that left little to the imagination. Her thighs fully exposed, he studied them as his hands touched the soft, white skin. The sensation sent waves of pleasure undulating up her back and she shook in her seat and hooked her feet behind his back.

"You are like honeyed mead at the harvest festival," he mused, his chest moving more quickly with his breathing. With his hands at their fullest descent on her thighs his thumbs reached through the backs of the leg holes in her undergarments and played with the softest flesh of her thigh near her genitals and bum cheeks.

Throwing back her head she growled with pleasure and spread her legs apart further. She grabbed his arms tightly and raked her fingers across them. Between her legs she felt a pulsing sensation, a building urgency. She was certain if he kept his up she would orgasm from this alone.

"You're a strong one," he said.

His fingers reached forward and pulled at her undergarments. She let go of his forearms and gripped the sides of her chairs, bringing her flushed face forward to look at him. He pulled her undergarments over her thighs, angling her legs up as he did so. He pulled them up over her calves and feet which now pointed at the ceiling and tossed them without care to the side. He leaned forward and rested her legs against his shoulders. His eyes were intense and focused as he looked down at her. She was exposed before him.

A few drops of sweat ran down her cheeks. From the heat from the fire? Or the fire within her? She had forgotten what this was like. He ran his hands up and down the backs of her firm, shapely legs, from her feet down to her round, pale bottom. His gaze hungering for her pussy. Mounted with soft, blond, hair her outer labia, slightly darker in colour than the surrounding skin, curved inward to her pink, inner labia, within which she knew she was already wet.

She could see the answering bulge in his trousers and she urged, "Viking, you must make use of me now."

He grunted in answer, then gripped her sides firmly in his large hands and easily picked her up, sliding her legs up his shoulders so that they hung behind his back. Turning with his chair he positioned her over the table and lowered her bottom onto the smooth wooden surface. She reached back with her arms to hold herself in place. His face was so close that she could feel his breath across her most private parts. She shivered despite the heat and he smiled from between her legs.

He sucked gently at the soft flesh of her inner thighs, his facial hair tickling all around the area. She murmured unintelligibly as he continued to do this. Her eyes closed as she faced upward, she braced her arms back behind herself to hold herself up. The pressure between her legs was unbearable and she longed for release.

"Please Viking," she pleaded. "I am ready. Place yourself inside of me. Take me on this table." Looking down she reached forward with her right hand and ran her hand through his hair, tugging at him.

He grinned up at her, his beard tickling just below her pussy now, making her shiver again. "As you wish."

He pushed forward with his head and stuck his tongue firmly, but carefully between her inner labia, and licked slowly upward over the hood of her clitoris. Crying out in pleasure she pulled at his head.

"Fuck me now," she commanded.

Johan kept her legs over his shoulder as he pulled down his trousers. He wore no discernible undergarments and a penis befitting his frame stiffly sprang forth. He kicked his trousers aside causing his cock to wave back and forth. She growled in pleasure to him and dug her nails into the table surface.

Next, he pulled at her dress as his penis pointed toward her frustrated vagina. Impatiently she yanked it past his hands and threw it to the side leaving her body naked and ready before him. He paused for a moment and looked down at her intensely. Then he slid a hand up her stomach to between her pert, firm breasts, whose nipples pointed slightly outward. His penis seemed to rise a little more and she licked her lips, undulating her body ever so slightly for him. Years of chastity had given way to carnal lust.

Smiling, he brought his hands down to her thighs. Holding there, he lifted her slightly off the table and walked her backward on her arms as he stepped up onto the table on his knees. His penis moving so tantalizingly close to her pussy. He moved her to the middle of the table where she lay down, pressing her back against the wooden surface.

He maneuvered up and over top of her, while Maja's legs, still against his chest and shoulders, ended up over top of her between them as he positioned himself. His stiff penis rubbed against her pussy. She moved her hips and ground against him, trying to manoeuvre his penis inside. With a smile he teased her, moving just enough to keep it out, but enough that his shaft slid between her inner labia lips. A moan escaped her lips and her hips thrashed against him. She frowned up at him as he laughed.

With a practiced ease he enfolded her legs with his arms, keeping them pressed between his arms and body, her feet just at his head. Then while looking down he ever so slowly, pushed his penis into her pussy, edging down deeper and deeper, she lifted herself up at an angle by her stomach muscles, her entire body tensing as he went in. Her vagina gripped his cock softly but firmly. She shook and let out a long, deep groan of ecstasy as the feeling of every inch of him descending and finally filling her, intensified and consumed her senses.

He held himself there for a moment, his cock throbbing within. She panted and grunted, running her nails over his arms. The feeling of being pinned to the table was exquisite.

Then he began sliding back and forth, slowly and firmly at first, his stomach bumping into the backs of her legs each time. The feeling was maddening. Strong arms held her legs up as he pumped into her a little faster, his cock driving deep within her.

He was a beast on her, his muscled arms the size of her legs, his powerful torso seeming to cover her as he began moving over top of her, his arms coming down to grip her sides as his hands slid just underneath her. Face intense, he grunted at her. Her legs, bent at her waist closer to her body, still jutted up over his shoulders between his arms. And now from atop he could bring his size to bear and hold her in place. He growled low in his throat. The pace of his thrusts remained the same, but the strength had increased and his pelvis slapped into her bottom.

With each thrust of his cock, sounds of pleasure huffed from deep out of her chest. She was lost to the feeling of his cock. The heat from her pussy spread through her legs and body. The table, though sturdy, creaked with each thrust. As his cock slid in and out the feeling in her pussy intensified. Her back arched and she grabbed the sides of the table. The feeling continued to escalate, taking control of her body and making her writhe and grunt.

And still the feeling intensified as his cock drove back and forth. Building to a perfect point. Coalescing where his cock joined her pussy. A point that connected her entire body. A point at which nothing else existed. A point that suddenly overflowed, breaking across her.

She howled as it broke upon her, shattering her mind, shaking her body such that she thrashed against him. He let out a long, deep groan as her vagina clenched and unclenched over and over. Suddenly, losing control of the rhythm of his thrusts, he spasmodically slammed into her, his penis even more rigid as his seed spewed deep into her.