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An Interlude

By: WatchingZephyrs



*This is me testing the waters, to see if I want to attempt a longer story. FYI, this is not a stroke story. Do not expect it to be.*

*

She walked into the room, feeling the heat from the large granite fireplace located at the end of the room. The dark paneling of the walls complimented the heavy masculine furniture and midnight black of the bear rug laid before the fire. It was the perfect place for them to meet, away from the reality of their lives. Public focus made such interludes more difficult than she thought, but nothing would keep her from him.

She scanned the room, searching for him and was not disappointed. He slowly moved away from the desk he was leaning on, the passion he felt glowing in his flame lit eyes. Moving towards him, she licked her dry lips and moved into his embrace. Neither said a word, afraid that anyone might hear their voices and recognize them. They did not need words, their eyes both held reflecting desires and emotions. 

In his arms, he engulfed her frame making her feel utterly small and feminine. She tilted her head up to meet his in a kiss. Meant to be a greeting, it soon turned into more as he maneuvered her towards the fire and the rug. So unrelenting was the drive and passion of his kisses, she found herself lying on the rug hearing a helpless mewing coming from her throat. His lips danced across her lips, over her face, and down to the hollow of her throat.

He slowly removed her blouse, first touching then licking and kissing each inch of skin that he revealed. Her own hands working on his shirt paused then gripped his shirt to pull him closer as he came to the valley between her breasts. He nuzzled her and continued down, teasing and nipping knowing all of her hot spots as he slowly removed her shirt. He paused to help remove his own before continuing on his exploration in removing her pants. 

Her hands drifted from his chest to his arms, shoulders, neck, biceps, and back to his chest and lower down towards his abdomen. Her mouth nipping, kissing, lapping at whatever part of his body she could reach to return the attention. Her body was strung so tight in pleasure and want that her movements were as hard as butterfly wings and aroused him more than any bold touch could. She could feel him beneath the jeans he wore, the heat of him stronger than the fire at her side. 

She moved to release him from his jeans and stopped. Her gaze caught upon his face as he gazed down upon her body, the passion he held for her blazed so hot in his eyes it astounded her and she forgot what she was doing. Before she could move, again he caught her mouth in a deep kiss, removing her bra without her knowledge. He then followed the path he took with the removal of her shirt, until he came to her breasts. Once he reached them all coherent thought left her head as a moan escaped.

He settled in between her legs while his entire focus was upon her breasts, as though if he moved away they would no longer be there, or her. She drew her knees up to cradle his jean clad hips between her thighs and her hands sought between their bodies to remove the material separating them. Arching into him, she used her legs, thighs and feet to push his jeans and then his boxers down, trying to minimize the space between them as much as possible. She could feel the building of her climax, the slow burning getting hotter and hotter as time passed. She did not know how long they had been on the rug, or how long they would stay, her only focus was to get closer to him, to have him answer the need burning within her. 

She knew it was far from over; he loved to play and push her higher and higher. His hands just now playing with the band of her panties, she knew she would be begging for release more than once before he allowed it. She shuddered in want and expectation as he released her nipple and moved down

"Jessica, your break is over. Get back to your register," Marie yelled out. "Damn it, she always interrupts just when the book starts getting good," Jessica muttered to herself. Jessica placed a napkin to mark the page she was on and placed the book in her backpack. Leaving the break room, she took her place behind the counter and looked up at the customer that stood before her. "Thank you for shopping at Miller's, the gentleman's store. Have you found everything you are looking for?"

*

*A Question for those who found and this story, should I build a story around this interlude? If so, suggestions on the direction of the story would be appreciated.*

An Interlude From Normal Business



Business travel was bad enough, but having to take two assistants with me, who were both young and in there 20’s, only made things worse. Let me explain a little, because this sounds like any man’s fantasy come true. Amy was tall and slender, with little shape at all. Her hair was straight and she wore no makeup. She was bright, but rather than using her intelligence, it made her act constantly bored. Melody was a little plump, wore too much make up, and wore the tops and pants that were in style, but didn’t fit her shape correctly. Rather than making her look fashionable, they only made her look chubbier. Besides her lack of fashion sense, she thought it was attractive to act dumb.

I needed their help to set up a display for a new product that we were introducing and to tend the display if I were meeting with an important client. I hoped that they would not scare too many potential clients away.

We arrived at the hotel and discovered – to my dismay – that a mix up left us with a single room reservation. It was the last room that they had, but fortunately, it was a townhouse suite. The desk clerk was apologetic, and said that they had another property that was an hour away, but I didn’t want to add two hours of commute time with the girls to my day.

The living room had a couch before the fireplace that folded into a bed. The girls took the hide-a-bed; after all, I was the senior member of our group. They giggled when the finally figured out how to light the gas fireplace. As they watched TV, I retired to bed, wanting more to be by myself, than being tired.

I took the bed in the upper room and tried to drown out the sound of the TV below. I thought about how much better this situation would have been if I were traveling with Karen and Susan instead. Not only are they attractive women, intelligent, and mature, but I would not feel like I was hangin’ with my daughter’s friends. 

I read some of our product literature, and quickly became empathetic with our customers. It was definitely a cure for insomnia. I turned off the light, and began daydreaming about Karen. She had lovely strawberry blonde hair, perky breasts, and a nice ass. I reached between my legs and stroked my hard cock, as I thought about having her myself.

Through the door, I could hear the TV. The girls had bought a pay-per-view porno. From the sounds of it, they were watching a girl-on-girl video. ‘Damn’, I thought, ‘this is going to appear on my bill’. ‘Who is going to believe that quiet, demur Amy would watch nasty videos’.

I must have dozed off. The clock next to my bed showed that it was nearly midnight. In the quiet of the night, I could hear that the girls were watching another video. I rose, not bothering to put on my pants, to tell them to wrap it up for the night. As I stepped onto the balcony, I was shocked at what I saw below me.

Amy was straddling Melodies face. Her bush was broad and dark. Their bodies glowed in the warm firelight. They had not heard me open the door and could not see me as I stood in the shadows.

Amy was leaning back, her pussy in full view, her tits quivering with the gyration of her hips against Melody’s face. She held her head back, and her long hair dangled on Melody’s body. I had no idea that Amy’s nipples were pierced.

I felt my cock start to swell beneath my boxers. I slid deeper into the shadows to assure I would be undetected. Personalities are no longer at issue, when there are two naked feminine bodies writhing on a bed below you.

Melody was holding Amy’s cheeks and pulling her pussy down toward her face. I could see her tongue darting between Amy’s pussy lips and dancing around Amy’s clit. Her body shook and bucked as she came on Melody’s face. She fell in a heap on the bed, beside Melody, leaving Melody’s wet face exposed and glistened in the fire light. 

Without Amy astride of Melody, I could see that Melody was in fact a real blonde. It had been a long time since I had seen a blonde mound, and Melody kept hers nicely trimmed. Her breasts were larger than Amy’s but not as firm. Her nipples were pale and I could barely distinguish them in the dim light. Her belly button was pierced and she had a tattoo on her hip. I could not tell for sure, but it looked like a pink rose.

Melody slid over to Amy and took her in her arms. They kissed a long passionate kiss, pressing their bodies together, while Amy’s hands roamed over Melody’s body. Amy’s fingers soon found a home inside Melody’s pussy; first one finger spreading her lips and the moisture around, then a second, and finally a third. I watched as Amy finger fucked Melody, moving my hand on my shaft in rhythm with her motions.

I put my hand over my mouth, afraid that I might alert them to my presence and spoil the show they are putting on. My cock was as hard and swollen as ever. I could feel my arousal rising even further and knew that I could explode at any moment.

Melody took her hands and pressed her breasts together allowing Amy to cover both nipples with her mouth and started licking and sucking them. I could tell Melody was getting close to coming by the rhythm of her hips against Amy’s hand.

Melody shrieked and arched herself high into the air. I had a good view of Amy’s fingers deeply pushed inside her. She writhed on the bed as wave after wave of orgasm racked her body. Amy lay next to her, know just how to touch her, hold her on the edge, then bring her over once again. Finally, when Melody had had enough, and as if to punctuate their actions, Amy put her fingers to her lips and licked Melody’s juices clean from them.

My hand stroking my shaft was bringing me close to my own peak. My balls sucked up inside me and I shot my load, in several convulsions, out in front of me onto the balcony wall. I know that I let out a moan, but it was stifled by my wrist over my mouth. The girls never looked up, as they lay naked and cuddled together on the hide-a-bed. I moved quietly back into my room and lay down on my bed.

I thought about what I had witnessed, as I lay in bed, my cock now soft and satisfied. I knew that both girls had been in Sororities, and I wondered if the college fantasies that we had were really true. If only I had encountered something like this when I was in school, I then would have joined them.

I’ve never shared this story before. I knew that people would either stare at me in disbelief or think of me as crazy for not joining in. I never let on to the girls that I had seen their actions that night; as far as I know, they were never aware. I risen in the company and they have gone on to prominent positions in other firms – I am sure, carrying many deep secrets with them.



An Interlude on Athelney



In the second week of the New Year of Our Lord, Eight Hundred and Seventy Eight, The Danes broke out from their winter camp at Gleawanceaster and once more assailed the Kingdom of Ælfred. The King was at Cippanhamm for Yuletide when the Danes descended out of the snow on the small Saxon host. Ælfred and his companions were taken utterly by surprise. They tried to stand at the river but were overwhelmed. The fighting was fierce and bloody and the waters of that unhappy stream ran red with the bright heart’s blood of Wessex. Ælfred was defeated and driven back beyond Selwood. The King, together with such remnants of his band as remained, took refuge amid the masterless men of the marshes on the isle of Athelingaig.

Among those who accompanied the King was one Edric, House Ceorl to the Ealdorman of Dornwaraceaster. Much of what follows is his story but it would make no sense without reference to the actions of the King at this time of his greatest trials.


Fr Asser of St Davids
Wiltun
In the Year of Our Lord, 908.

Author’s Note

Following the death of Ivar in 871, the wars continued intermittently until 874. Halfdan took the majority of the Danish forces north away from Wessex, where resistance was strongest, and established a Kingdom centred on York – Jorvik to the invaders. At some point in 876, Halfdan departed England and the Danish army split into two. The southern faction was led by Guthrun, sometimes called Gudrun, who established himself in Eastern and Southern Mercia, forcing peace on the Mercian King, Ceolwulf. 

This state of affairs was tantamount to a partition of the Mercian Kingdom and gave Guthrun a base at Gloucester, the Anglo-Saxon Gleawanceaster, from which he could again harass Wessex. 

The principal place names I have used in this story are: Athelingaig - The Island of Athelney; Bradanforda is Bradford on Avon, where one can find one of the few extant Saxon Churches; Cippanhamm – Chippenham, Dornwaraceaster is Dorchester.  Glestingaburg – Glastonbury and Ceoddor, modern-day Cheddar. The physical geography of Somerset in those days was very different from today. It is hard to see Athelney as an island these days and the area now known as the Levels was then alternately forest and swamp. 

The main forest of Selwood divided the Kingdom of Wessex into two parts. Wessex proper ran from Kent through Sussex, Hampshire and Wiltshire and included eastern Dorset. Selwood ran almost north-south, from just above Dorchester to Calne, in Wiltshire. Wessex-beyond-Selwood was a wilder place. The towns were smaller and further apart and the landscape less hospitable. The land ran from the marshes of Somerset to the granite moors of Devon and the wild, wooded hills and valleys of West Dorset. 

This distinction remains to this day. West of Selwood, one is aware of the space. The congruence of Somerset, Dorset and Devon is one of the most beautiful and unspoilt parts of England. I am happy to say it is where we now make our home.

Ælfred, Ætholnoth and Guthrun are, of course, historical characters. The rest, and this entire story, are my own imaginings. 

An Interlude on Athelney, AD 878


“Edric! Edric! Come on, man, where the Devil are you?” Edric of Dornwaraceaster rose slowly from his sleeping- pallet and pushed aside the hides that covered the doorway. He emerged, blinking, into the wan daylight. As usual on this cursed isle it was raining, a fine drifting rain that covered everything, the sort of rain that a man does not heed until he is soaked to the skin. 

Ælfred had arrived on Athelingaig with the remnants of his force the day before Easter. In the fortnight since, others had come straggling in, bringing both reinforcement and news. It seemed the Kingdom was lost. All of Wessex proper was subjugated by the Danes. Many had fled across the sea to the land of the Franks. Only here, beyond Selwood, were men still free. Edric wiped his eyes and looked about him.

He was a tall man, well above the average, with a long face and prominent ears. His bare arms showed countless old whitened scars, little legacies of a life of conflict. A livid purple line was slashed across his brow, evidence of another and more recent wound received in the service of his King and the Land of Wessex. 

Of all the marks he bore, this was the one he hated, for it had taken his honour. That day at Cippanhamm -- he felt heart-sick in its remembrance. He had served his Ealdorman for nigh on fifteen years, had taken wounds in his defence. At Cippanhamm his Lord had fallen. Edric had been powerless to save him, rendered insensible by a blow from a Danish sword to the head. His helmet had saved his life but that was as nothing to the loss of his reputation. The code of the House Ceorl was a harsh one. A man should not survive his sworn Lord, his Ring-Giver. His companions had all fallen at their Lord’s side, defending the tattered banner of Dornwaraceaster. Edric should have died among them. Thus he lived, a ni-thing, a man without a master. Such thoughts consumed his every waking hour and troubled his dreams, also. 

“There you are, you ugly bastard. The King has sent for you. Look sharp, now!” 

It was Hereward of Middletun, made Ealdorman at the young age of seventeen and standing high in the King’s favour. Edric liked Hereward, most people did. He was a cheerful young man, even now barely three and twenty. Edric may have felt a twinge of jealousy at Hereward’s renown but could not find in his heart to resent the younger man. 

“What does Ælfred want of me?”

“His horse has died and he wants you to carry him!”

“A task I’m fit enough for.”

“Oh, don’t take on, man. No one blames you for your Lord’s misfortune. The King has need of you now, so look lively!”

Edric smoothed his clothes as best he could. Hereward could hardly suppress a grin, as the big warrior pulled stray bits of straw from his tunic and beard. They walked together to the King’s hut. Edric moved ponderously. His shoulders seemed too wide, even for his height, and they rolled as he walked. By contrast, Hereward was light and graceful, seeming to glide along beside the larger man.

The King was seated outside the hut at a rough wooden table. Moisture sparkled in his hair and beard but he did not heed the rain. Several of his Thegns and House Ceorls stood or sat nearby. He looked up as Edric and Hereward approached; gave a nod to Hereward, who moved to one side. 

“Edric of Dornwaraceaster, thank you for coming so early. I have need of your services.”

“Are you sure it’s me you need, My Lord?”

A flash of irritation crossed the King’s face and then he smiled. 

“Edric, I understand your pain. You feel you have lost all honour. We, who fought that day at Cippanhamm and saw your master fall, know different. You fought as a man should for as long as you were able. Your Lord is dead now, and we pray, with the saints. Now I have need of you. Will you refuse me?”

“Never, Lord. You have only to command me.”

“Good! Now, if you can accomplish that which I now desire, you shall become Ælfred’s man. Seventeen House Ceorls I lost at Cippenhamm. There is a place at my table for you, if you will but take it.”

Ælfred knew his man. To simply give Edric a new position would have failed. The man was too proud. But to earn a place among the King’s Ceorls - that was a challenge he would respond to. His sense of duty to the King would let him make the attempt. His honour would be satisfied only by success. Ælfred knew Edric would not return if he failed. He would succeed or literally die trying. 

“How may I serve you?”

“The Abbess of Glestingaburg has sent word. She has provided succour to several of our wounded. She has also given shelter to a number of women and children who fled the pagans. I am taking a force to escort them here. I need you to draw away the Danes. I want you to take a small band and harry them. Hit and run. Can you do this for me?”

Edric brightened visibly. Here was a chance for him to avenge his master and recover his pride. “That I will, My Lord!” Ælfred smiled. The King had an infectious smile that lightened the hearts of those about him. He was not yet thirty years old and had been King for seven years. He had never expected to sit on the throne of Wessex, being the youngest son of King Æthelwulf. 

“There is one other charge I must give you.” 

“You have but to ask, My Lord.”

“Today we had great news! The pagans sent an army out of Cymru, to attack our lands in the West. They came to battle at Cynuit Hill and were destroyed.”

“Great news indeed, My Lord.”

“I want you to spread the word of this victory and tell all you meet that the Fyrd is summoned by Ælfred to come to Egbert’s Stone at Whitsuntide, five weeks from today. This time we will not fail or Wessex will be no more.”

“It shall be as you command.”


Edric spent the rest of the day in preparation. He chose local men to ride with him, men of the King’s Royal Estate at Ceoddor. The following day he rode out with forty well-mounted warriors at his back, heading north, towards Gleawanceaster. They had ridden but half a day when they came upon a small host, heading for Athelingaig. At its head rode Ætholnoth, Thegn of Sumurtun, and the chief of the King’s men in those parts. Edric exchanged news with the grizzled old veteran and Ætholnoth gave him twenty more warriors to supplement the band. 

“The King will be glad of you and your men,” Edric told the Thegn. “He rides this day to Glestingaburg to bring the wounded and the women in.” 

“First I ride to the west, for we have news of a raiding party towards Tantun. I mean to warm their arses before I go to Athelingaig. There’s sport for you to the east as well. The Danes forage far and wide out of Cippanhamm. They seem to believe they own the place!”

“Then we must teach them different!”

And with this, they parted, Ætholnoth to Tantun and Edric to the northeast. At each village and holding, he sent messengers to gather news and pass the word of the mustering at Egbert’s Stone. Whenever they saw large bodies of Danish troops, they would linger long enough to be seen, and for the pursuit to start, before drawing away, ever eastwards. Thus it was that Ælfred was able to bring the folk from Glestingaburg unmolested. It was on their return leg, as they approached the great sweep of Selwood from the East, they had their first true encounter with the enemy. 

Five days of running from a fight had made the band restive and now, as they saw a small party of pagans driving off cattle, they saw their opportunity at last. Edric led his men round a hill capped with a ring of trees: the sort men said were groves of the Druids in ancient times. Saxons fight on foot, so they dismounted in the tree line, leaving half a dozen as horse-holders. The fighting men ran lightly over the tussocky ground to a ford they knew the raiders would have to cross. Here, Edric divided his men, sending twenty into the woods on the far side with the rest ordered into the river, to crouch from sight beneath the riverbank. 

The Danes came on, unawares. Edric waited until they were almost at the river. He gave a great yell “God Almighty!!!” and led the charge. An echoing shout came from the woods behind and the Danes found themselves caught between hammer and anvil. It was not battle - it was slaughter. Eighteen invaders died in the blink of an eye. Blood turned the approaches to the ford to sanguineous mud. The axe-blades drank their fill. Edric roared to his men “You see they can be beaten! They die like any other vermin. Now, round up the cattle and we’ll take them home!”

The villagers were stunned. The Danes had arrived at dawn, stolen their cattle and taken what few precious things they could find. They had murdered the headman and the hedge-priest and fired the Great Barn. The women and children had fled to the woods at the raiders’ approach. They were only now emerging as the Saxons rode in with the rescued cattle. 

“God be praised!” A woman’s voice rose from the crowd. She broke the spell, for suddenly they were surrounded by excited faces, clamouring for news and demanding an account of the battle. Edric was a taciturn man and lacked facility with words. He had never been easy other than in the company of warriors. He envied those at court who could jest and recount stories. He looked around the crowd and reddened. He lifted his voice. “We caught them by yonder ford and killed them.” The villagers looked on expectantly, for Saxons love a good tale. There was an awkward silence. “I’m no bard,“ Edric said at length. ”Let some other tell it.” And with this he moved a little way off, hearing as he did so, the voices of his men, competing to tell the story.

He dismounted and began to rub down his horse with a handful of dry grass. He cursed himself inwardly for his inability to speak to his fellows, other than to give orders or discuss tactics. He felt at home only among others of his kind: warriors. He was thirty-one years old and had never married; had never known a woman other than the drabs that followed the armies. He could count his friends on one hand. It was little to show for a life of service. 

“I see that, for you, the glory’s in the doing, not the telling.” The woman’s voice was low and well modulated, without strong accent. Edric nodded and turned to face the speaker. “I am Godgifu, daughter of Oswulf of Bradanforda.” She was unmarried, then, for she had not named herself as any man’s wife. She was tall and full-breasted. Her fair hair was braided and coiled and about her head. She wore a simple dress of fine green wool, belted about a slim waist. He guessed her age to be not too many years above twenty.  She could not have been called handsome, for her features were large and bore the scars of some childhood ailment. Yet there was something about her that called to Edric. There was an aura about her. It spoke to the warrior of calm self-assurance. Her eyes, he saw, were beautiful, brilliant blue and kind, somehow. It was as if she could look inside him and see the pain. He was dumbstruck. 

“And are you always so frugal with words, My Lord?”

“I’m no Lord. I’m ni-thing.”

“That, I cannot credit. How so?”

“House Ceorl to the late Ealdorman of Dornwaraceaster. He died, I lived.” 

“At Cippanhamm on Twelfth Night?”

“Aye.”

“What happened?”

“I took this,” he indicated his scarred brow, “Lost my senses for a while. When I came to myself again, the day was lost, my lord with it.”

“But none can blame you, surely. You took a wound, and not the first, by your scars. What of the new Lord?”

“I failed his sire, what need has he of such as me?”

“Then he’s a puppy and fool, to boot. I see you for a valiant man.”

“Then you see more than most.”

“More than most, or just more than you?”

Edric shrugged. He grew uncomfortable under the woman’s gaze. He knew, deep down, that she had the right of it. He knew he was no coward. Yet the new Ealdorman, his lord’s son, had spurned him. He was a puppy, she was right. He hadn’t been at Cippanhamm when the Danes had surprised the Saxons, attacking, out of common custom, in the dead of winter. The lad’s refusal had cut Edric to the quick. He had been weak from his wound, barely able to stand when he had offered the heir his service. “By God,” the boy had drawled, “I think not. See what your service brought my father!” Edric had slunk away liked a whipped cur, to lick his wounds on Athelingaig.

“Cat got your tongue? Or is it that that blow took your wits and you can’t remember your own name?”

“I am Edric, once of Dornwaraceaster and now of Athelingaig. But what of you? You name yourself a Thegn’s a daughter yet here you are in this midden.”

“I was on my way to Scireburnan, to the sisters there, to take the veil.”

“A nun?”

“Not yet, and not of my choosing. My father said I was too old to remain unwed in his household. For me, at least, the Danes are a blessing, for they keep me in the world and out of the cloister!”

“What will you do now?”

“I’ll ride with you to Athelingaig. I would have gone before, when we heard the King lived, but the men my father charged to convey me fled and the ones hereabout are little better than thralls. Will you take me?”

“I how somehow feel that that decision isn’t mine!”  Edric smiled for the first time in many weeks and she saw a different man emerge, if only fleetingly. The smile transformed his long, lugubrious countenance. It brought an answering smile to her face and for a moment they stood, enjoying a precious spark of happiness amid the dark days. 

Edric despatched runners from the village to the surrounding area, telling of the muster at Egbert’s Stone. When he was satisfied that this part of the country was awake to their King’s needs, he ordered his band to mount up once more. This time, Godgifu rode by his side. Sometimes they talked quietly as they rode but most often travelled in companionable silence. Godgifu proved herself to be a hardy traveller and made no complaint as to the pace or length of the day’s journey. They camped that night in Selwood. No fire was lit to alert the Danes to their presence and they had a frugal meal of dried beef, oatcakes and apples from the previous autumn with skins wrinkled like an old woman’s but still sweet. 

The wood was silent but for the occasional stamping of a horse. Edric and Godgifu sat against an ancient beech and talked in low voices. Their conversation ranged far and wide but the more they talked, the more they found shared experiences. Both had found it hard to make friends. Both had grown up knowing that others were more comely. Edric found himself speaking of things he had never shared with another soul. It was easy to tell Godgifu, she understood him. She didn’t see him as a big warrior with over-wide shoulders and prominent ears, a figure to be mocked when his back was turned. She didn’t think him slow-witted because he found it hard to put things into words.

For her part, Godgifu found Edric an ideal companion. He did not try to impress her with exaggerated tales of his own deeds. He didn’t act as if she wasn’t there, like so many young men of her father’s court. He answered her questions honestly. Sometimes he struggled to find the exact word he wanted to express a particular feeling or describe something that he had seen but she quickly realised this was because there was only word that would do. He spoke sparingly, precisely; there was no room for ambiguity anywhere in his life.  She found herself warming to this taciturn man. When he smiled, he was a different person. She saw within him all the honesty and gentleness that one person could wish for in another. He was serious, reflective, but not without humour. And he gave weight to everything she said, neither rejecting her opinions because she was a woman nor accepting everything she said simply to please her. She thought, for one horrified moment, that he was treating her like a man, that he would be different, somehow, if she were beautiful. Then she realised that he could not be other than he was, plain-spoken, carefully considerate. They talked late into the night in hushed voices. It was only when the guard changed for the third time that they reluctantly withdrew to sleep.

The following morning they were on the move before the sun had cleared the tops of the trees behind them. Edric was anxious to push on now, to return to Athelingaig. He found himself thinking that if he were one of Ælfred’s House Ceorls he could approach Godgifu’s father and he started at the thought. ‘Great God, man! You barely know her and yet you think of marriage!’ How could this be? Godgifu saw the confusion on his face and wondered at its cause. She had been watching him surreptitiously. ‘Now here’s a man I could spend some time with,’ she mused, but dismissed the thought as silly. She had given up hope of marriage years before when not even the most impoverished of her father’s men had asked for her, despite the sizeable dowry Oswulf had offered in desperation. 




An Interlude on Athelney



They rode on through the long spring evening and it was almost full dark when they came to Athelingaig. Edric answered the challenge of the watch and it was with relief that the tired band came to the camp. It was much changed during their absence. Ætholnoth’s men had joined with the King’s host so there were now upwards of eight hundred warriors gathered in the fort. Ælfred himself came out to meet them together with Ætholnoth and a half dozen others of the King’s Thegns. 

“Edric, you’re back! And I hear from my spies that the Danes believe there are bands of three-score Saxons ranging all over Wessex! And whom do we have here?”

“Allow me to present the Lady Godgifu, daughter of Oswulf of Bradanforda, My Lord. The Lady’s escort deserted her so she accompanied us here.”

Ælfred handed her down from her horse and gave a bow.

“Lady, welcome to Athelingaig. Your father joined us not two days since. He will be pleased to see you safe for he feared you might be taken.”

“My safety is entirely due to Edric, My Lord.”

“Well, now I have need of him. Doubtless you will wish to see you father. Ceolwulf here will take you to him. Come, Edric, for we have much to discuss.”

With that the King strode off. Edric turned to Godgifu and the look that passed between spoke more than words. “Later, “ was all he said and she nodded. He made his report to the King and his War Council in a few terse sentences. “And so, My Lord, we got as far east as Wiltun before turning back. I sent word also into Hamtunshire and I believe such of their men who have not fled will join with us at Egbert’s Stone. I am sure of the men of Wiltunshire.”

“You have done well, Edric,“ the King replied. “I had not thought you would get so far. Now Wessex knows I am neither dead nor fled! Whitsun will bring a reckoning. Now, will you swear to me and be my man?”

So it was that Edric the ni-thing became Ceorl to Ælfred of Wessex. In the days that followed he saw little of Godgifu. The King kept him busy with constant forays against the Danes. Ælfred’s men would strike out of the forests or in the darkness, keeping the enemy off balance. He was wounded once, in a sharp fight near Ceoddor. And then there were the drills. 

Ælfred had visited Rome twice as a young man and was much impressed with both the city and its history. He now taught the Saxons to fight in a moving Shield Wall, like the Roman ‘tortoise’. He divided his army into two parts and four hundred men locked arms in each square. Those on the outside held shields and axes, the inner ranks thrust with spears between the wall of shields. No Saxon had seen the like. They had always fought in the Shield Wall but chose their ground and stood under the banners. Now they could manoeuvre in fighting formation. The warriors hated the drills but were itching to put them into practice. 

As May rolled on, messengers began to arrive at the camp with more frequency. The men of Wessex were responding to their King’s call. Simple reckoning said that there would be five thousand to meet the King at Egbert’s Stone. One evening, Ælfred summoned the leaders of his host and told them to prepare. They would march from Athelingaig for the last time in just two more days. 

Those two days passed in a mad blur for Edric and his companions. The King’s preparations were meticulous and no detail must be overlooked, however small. He had barely been able to snatch a few words with Godgifu but there was now an understanding between them. If Edric survived the coming battle, he would speak to Oswulf. As always with him, his duty came first and he put such thoughts far from his mind as he went about his tasks. 

Thus it was, on that last night before the army’s departure, that Godgifu slipped quietly into his hut. Edric sat upon his pallet in surprise. “Godgifu, what are you doing here? It is not seemly…” She placed a finger to his lips. “Hush, my man, and listen,” she said. “Do you suppose I am some green girl? I am twenty three years old and I have thought this over.  My mind’s made up. I will not go to my grave a virgin. If you should fall I will take the veil but at least I will know love before I do so!”

She took a flint and steel and lit a rush light, filling the hut with a warm, soft light. Turning back to him, she stripped off her dress and stood before him. He thought his heart would burst its bounds and choke him. He had no voice. Her body was bathed in a golden glow. Her breasts were large and swung outwards from her chest. He felt his pulse race as it did when he stood in the Shield Wall. His eyes were drawn to the round flare of her hips, down her slightly domed stomach to the crown of curls at its base. He felt himself grow hard as he stripped off his trews and tunic and drew her down to the pallet beside him. 

She ran her fingers lightly over his body, touching the hard muscles and the scarred flesh. Only his back was unmarked. His eyes were wide in wonder and his breath came quickly. She felt completely in control, trusting his inherent gentleness. She inclined her head and kissed him, feeling his beard on her cheek as she did so. It was softer than she expected. Passion rose in her and she kissed him again, harder this time, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She took his lower lip between her teeth and bit down softly. He uttered a low groan but she knew it was not pain. 

His hands moved to her breasts and he felt their soft weight. She inhaled sharply as he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked at her lightly. He teased at it with his tongue and teeth and it was now she who moaned aloud. His hands stroked the rounded swelling of her buttocks and she felt his strength as he lifted her easily to lie on top of him. She could feel his hardness pressing against her and she thrust towards it with her hips. “Slowly, my love,” he whispered and she relaxed a little, luxuriating in the new sensations invading her body in waves as he stroked the moistened curls and slipped a finger gently into her cleft. She gasped as his questing finger found its target and he gently rubbed the little knot. She could wait no longer. She rose above him and grasping him with one hand, thrust down suddenly. A flash of pain shot through her but he was through the barrier. She scarcely had time to feel it. 

His hips thrust up to meet her and he seized her buttocks, pulling her forwards and downwards until their bodies met. She almost screamed at the sudden shock but already he was lifting her away and she found herself falling easily into the rhythm. It was like riding a wild horse, she thought, or better yet, a dragon. 

He bent forward and captured a gently swaying breast with his mouth. The sensation flashed like lightning through her body, as if there was a direct connection between her nipple and her loins. All conscious thought had left her now; she was only aware of the demands of her body and the rising tide of feeling deep within her. She felt his teeth graze her nipple and it pushed her over the brink. She screamed aloud as the climax hit her. She looked down at his face and saw it contorted with passion as he followed her to fulfilment. 

Thus it was that her father found them, summoned by the sounds of her passion. The old Thegn’s face purpled with rage. “ A rape!” He bellowed, “ A rape!” This brought others running and before they knew it, Edric had been seized and dragged naked from the hut. Oswulf would have killed him out of hand but Hereward of Middletun stepped between the maddened Thegn and his intended victim. 

“Come now, Oswulf, you know that is not the King’s law.”

“Law or not, I’ll have this bastard’s life! She was to take the veil! He has despoiled the Holy Church!”

“Take the veil, indeed!” Godgifu appeared then from the hut. She stood, naked and proud, before the assembled company.” And if there was rape, well, it was I that did it! I went to Edric willingly and would do so again.”

Edric raised his head. His initial sense of shame was passing. “I meant no insult to you. Lord Oswulf. I had planned to speak to you. Godgifu and I are not children. We would wed. Will you have me for a good-son?”

Oswulf spat. “ I’d sooner have you as carrion!” 

Ælfred’s voice then cut across the hubbub. “Oswulf, it is my wish that Edric lives a while longer yet.” He took off his cloak, worn against the evening chill and draped it about Godgifu with a smile. “It seems to me, Lord Oswulf, that all would be best served by a marriage. I can see no rape here and know it is not Edric’s way. What say you?”

Oswulf still bridled and fulminated but gave a grudging nod. “Let him have the sow.” Edric stepped forward and grabbed the Thegn by his tunic. He lifted the older man bodily until their eyes were level. “You are worse than a fool,” he said. “You’ve had a treasure under your nose for years and have been blind to her. You think beauty exists only at the level of the skin. How can you have lived so long yet learned so little? You are unfit to be father to such a Lady. Hear me now. If you ever speak of your daughter without respect again, I will punch you. This is something to be feared.  Ask any man in Dornwaraceaster and they will tell you I can fell an ox with one blow. I trust I make myself plain?” Godgifu had never heard him so eloquent. 

Oswulf blustered. “ Did you see that? He manhandled me! He threatened me!” Hereward stepped forward and put an arm around the Thegn. “ Oswulf, “ he said with a smile, “ Consider yourself lucky to be alive. If that big ugly bastard had been naked and close enough to kiss me, I’d have died of fright!” There was a moment’s silence before the assembled crowd dissolved into gales of laughter. Edric looked furious a little while longer but found it impossible not to smile. His grin stretched until he, too, was consumed by mirth. 


“Enough,“ said the King. We have serious work ahead of us on the morrow. “Edric, say your farewells to your betrothed. There will be time for love when peace is won.” Edric bowed his head in agreement. Ælfred turned to Godgifu. “My Lady, you shall have a dowry of your King and I promise you, it will be more fitting than any that old curmudgeon would provide.” She, too, bowed her head; but not before she saw Hereward’s broad wink.

The Saxons gathered at Egbert’s Stone on Whitsunday. Ælfred led them forward to a place called Ethandun. They attacked the Danes as the first rays of sunlight touched the broad downs. The moving Shield Walls took the foe by surprise but still they outnumbered Ælfred’s men. The fighting lasted most of the day. The King was everywhere, inspiring his warriors, leading counterattacks, wherever the fighting was fiercest. And ever at his side was Edric. The big warrior was magnificent that day. He seemed tireless and when, as the day grew late, the Danish host finally broke, it was Edric who led the pursuit. 

Guthrun and his army withdrew to a fortified camp at Cippanhamm. Cippanhamm was where it started and where it finished. After a bitter siege lasting a fortnight, Guthrun asked for terms. He gave himself up to the King’s Peace and was baptised a Christian. After swearing deep oaths and giving hostages, the Danes withdrew to the east. In his wisdom, Ælfred granted them settlement rights in Danelaw. So the year of grace eight hundred and seventy eight ended with Wessex free and Danish power humbled for the nonce. It would not remain so.

Edric and Godgifu were married at Lammass. The bulge in her belly was noticed by all but mentioned by none, certainly not by her father! 



An Interlude With a Friend



I met Jake kind of by accident. I had been dating Brendan, a friend of his, but Brendan was just not what I was looking for. Brendan's idea of a great evening was going to a bar, getting totally smashed, then going home and having sloppy, unimaginative sex. I wanted more than that, but I didn't know where to look.

One night I was out with Brendan, and we got into a huge fight. Pissed off, I started bitching at Jake, who stood back and listened quietly until I was done. Jake was being very sweet to me, and very patient, and I suddenly realized that Jake was not at all bad looking. I thoroughly forgot about Brendan and spent the rest of the night talking with Jake. We discovered that we had a lot in common, and I began wondering why I had never really noticed him before. We exchanged phone numbers, and promised to call each other.

We kept our promises, and soon, Jake and I developed a strong, trusting friendship. In the meantime, I told Brendan to fuck off. I was glad to be rid of him, but that meant that now I was without a regular sex partner. I'm not the kind of girl who likes to fuck a lot of strange men at once, so I've always tried to maintain either a steady boyfriend or a steady lover. But finding a new lover was not my biggest problem. What I really needed was a lover who was into the same things I'm into. 

Simply, I enjoy violence with my sex. But, since finding others who like violence has always been difficult, I usually made do with the Brendans of the world, and got my need for violence satisfied by getting into fist-fights and by seeking physical pain from various sources such as body piercing, tattoos, and razor play. These methods were good for taking the edge off, but I still often found myself very frustrated. I couldn't stomach the thought of more drunk, boring sex, but I was aching for a lover. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to tell my troubles to Jake I trusted that even if he found my preferences abhorrent, he would neither turn away from me nor run to his friends with sick stories. I spilled my guts to him one night when we were hanging out.

As I spoke, I saw Jake's eyes lighting up, and I noticed that though he wasn't speaking much, he was nodding his head frequently. By his responses, I could tell that Jake was neither shocked nor disgusted by what I was describing. To my ecstatic ears, Jake confided to me that he was also a pain/adrenaline junkie, and like me, had a hard time finding willing partners.

Without saying a word, I smiled at Jake, gently brushed his long, soft, brown hair off of his neck and shoulder, leaned in close, and then viciously bit down on the flesh of his neck. Jake made a strangled, startled noise, grunted, and wrapped his arms around me tightly. We held that position for a long moment. I alternated the pressure of my teeth on his flesh, and felt the pulse of his neck correspond with the pulse I could feel from his growing, hardening penis pressed against my crotch.

I let go of his neck to look in his eyes. They were softly glazed, but I could see the wild light of pain and adrenaline in them. Still wrapped in his arms with his hard, pulsing dick against my crotch, Jake roughly grabbed me by the hair, yanked my head back, and sank his teeth into the sensitive area between my neck and shoulder.

The pain exploded in my brain. My whole concentration centered on the pain and pressure on my neck, the sharp grinding of Jake's teeth against my flesh, my pussy becoming hotter and wetter as I ground myself into Jake's rock-hard dick, and the dual charges of intense pain and intense pleasure firing in my brain. My fingernails, already sharpened on the edges, found their way under Jake's shirt and clawed deep, bloody gashes into the taut skin of Jake's back.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both wild-eyed and breathing heavily, and more than a little surprised by what had just happened. It was unplanned, and totally unexpected for both of us. We smiled at each other, then Jake put his arms back around me and kissed me long and deeply. We play-bit each other - a lip here, a tip of a tongue there - just a little. We were standing, as we had been the whole time, and tentatively, almost dance-like, we began rubbing our still throbbing crotches together. I wanted to abuse him. I could feel the violence welling up inside me, but at the moment, we had nowhere we could go to experiment with each other. We pulled away from each other frustrated, but Jake promised me that he would come up with something. 

True to his word, Jake called me the next night and told me to be ready when he picked me up. He found somewhere.

Jake drove me to the garage where he worked. He unlocked the door and whisked me inside. He turned on the heater and the radio, and I began to look around. As I did, I smiled and realized that Jake's shop had a myriad of possibilities for two young, horny, S&M aficionados. Jake, apparently, had gotten the same idea while he was at work that day.

We wandered around, picking up the various objects that appealed to us. Jake picked up two long, thick, black metal shelf brackets that had holes an inch apart along its length, and several hard plastic ties that resembled garbage bag ties but were longer, stronger, and thicker. I picked up clothespins, lengths of flexible rubber tubing, and various metal clamps. We got to work.

I took the two metal brackets and the plastic ties and ordered Jake to remove his pants. Then, I forcibly pushed Jake's legs apart and secured each of his ankles to each end of one of the brackets by lacing the ties through the appropriate holes, and proceeded to do the same with the other bracket and Jake's wrists. I lifted Jake's shirt and made him hold it up with his teeth, then I put a clothespin on each of his nipples. I placed one clothespin on the skin on the bridge of his nose between his eyes, and two more on the delicate skin of his scrotum. Jake moaned lightly through his mouthful of shirt.

I removed my shirt and bra and attached a metal clamp to each of my nipples. I put one clothespin on my bottom lip. Jake watched me with burning eyes. Meeting his intense gaze, I knelt down in front of him and began to gently suck his dick, letting the clothespin on my bottom lip graze his penis. My eyes never left his.

Judging by the hard ferocity of Jake's penis, Jake was definitely getting off on what I was doing. But, there was still far more I wanted to do. I took my mouth off of Jake's dick, and standing up, I grabbed a length of the rubber tubing. I got behind Jake and began to tease his ass with the tubing - rubbing here, play slapping there, poking gently at his asshole. Suddenly, I whipped Jake's ass hard. Jake's response was so intense that he almost lost his balance, but he managed to keep his shaking knees from buckling. Jake's hips surged upward and his raging hard-on bounced stiffly in front of him.

After a few more whistling smacks on Jake's ass with the rubber tubing, I decided to stop. I faced Jake and asked him how he was liking his treatment so far. Jake nodded mutely and thrust his rock-hard dick at me. I got back on my knees and sucked him. Every so often I slapped his tight balls with my palms, or dug my sharp mails into the flesh of his sore red ass.

When Jake came, he let out a cry that can only be described as animalistic. His hips jerked so violently that the clothespins on his scrotum fell off. While he was still in mid-orgasm, I took the clothespins off of Jake's nipples - a particularly sharp sensation when done during or after an orgasm - then took off the one on the bridge of his nose. (The clothespin on the bridge of the nose between the eyes gives the effect of slight mental confusion.) As Jake drifted back to reality, I kissed him and used my teeth gently on his face, neck, and shoulders. I cut him free of his bindings, then took the clamps off of my own sore nipples.

Jake gave me a sly smile as he pulled his pants on, and walked over to me slowly. Without warning, Jake grabbed me by the hair on the back of my head. He pulled me by my hair over to the metal bed of a lift, and forced me to remove every remaining stitch of clothing I had on. Jake then forced me to lie on my stomach on the cold, hard, metal lift bed.

With his fist still gripping my hair, Jake bit the back of my neck, shoulders, ass, and legs. If I tried to wriggle away from the savagery of his teeth, Jake grabbed my hair tighter and compelled me to lie still. He spent at least three minutes with his teeth in my flesh on each separate bite, leaving deep imprints. The imprints had a tingling soreness that made my nipples hard and my pussy wet.

Jake began spanking me with the flat of his palm, starting softly, then gradually building to a hard, hot sting. My body was in turmoil – Jake's strong hand was still firmly entwined in the hair at the base of my skull, I had deep, tingling bite marks covering the back of my body, and Jake's hand stinging my ass was driving my hips urgently into the cold, hard metal beneath me - nothing existed except the pain and the adrenaline-charged excitement that was electrifying me and bringing me to wild-eyed madness.

Jake forced me to sit up - the cold metal soothed my hot, tingling ass - but before I could get too comfortable, Jake sucked my tender nipples to painful hardness, then clipped a clothespin on each one. My nipples throbbed from the pain, joining the throbs from my ass and bite marks. Jake then clamped his teeth on my neck and thrust a hand between my legs.

I almost came from Jake's rough invasion of my pussy, but I held back with every ounce of strength I had left. As soon as I relaxed enough, I used my hands to hold Jake's head and teeth to my neck. I savored his slowly grinding teeth in my skin and opened my legs as widely and as obscenely as I could. His fingers roughly but skillfully penetrated me, and my body felt like one quivering mass of sensation.

Jake drew his wet fingers from my pussy up my body to my nipples and began to tweak and tease my nipples. I thrust my chest out and arched my back, gasping and moaning, still held by the hair. Jake forced me to lie on my back, then tied my wrists together and forced them under my head right at the sore, swollen area where Jake's fist had gripped my hair. The clothespins on my nipples were standing straight up on my stiff nipples and bobbing painfully as Jake arranged my body as he wanted it.

Jake spread my shaking legs with his two rough hands, sparing any gentleness, then, after brutally wetting his fingers in my soaked pussy, shoved one up my asshole. With his other hand, Jake lightly slapped and pinched my clit. With fingers in my ass and pussy and nastily massaging my clit, I came long and hard. Out of control, out of my mind, I moaned in a loud, deep growl. The whole world stopped as my body writhed with the sheer ecstasy and pain I felt.

When my convulsions stopped, Jake removed the clothespins on my nipples and I let out a weak, defenseless yelp. My wrists were freed, and I remained where I was, too weak to move. Jake smiled down at me, and I had to smile back. My friend, how could I not?



An Interlude with Matt



The next day I went to classes as usual and was late again – as usual. After my first class, I happened to run into Matt outside. You remember Matt, right? The guy who Betty was so hot on? He's tall and slender and has dark blond hair in a ponytail?

I thanked him very much for helping Betty and he told me if I really wanted to thank him I could invite him to our next party. Well, we didn't get to talk for very long because the bell rang for the my next class. It turned out that Matt had nothing scheduled for the rest of the morning so it was decided that he would accompany me to my class. He said that he happened to know my instructor very well and that he was positive the she wouldn't mind him sitting in.

Matt and I sat in the very back row in the room. Half of the class was missing due to sickness. The closer it became to Christmas, the more people said they were sick. I guess they weren't worried whether Santa brought them anything or not. Haha!

There was no one sitting within four or five desks in either direction because of this. I was sitting in the next to last desk in the first row and Matt had taken the desk behind me. The handsome young man was wearing a long raincoat still because it had been drizzling early in the morning.

After the instructor had called the roll, she began the usual boring lecture when suddenly one of those runners from the Dean's office showed up and she stepped out into hall. A few minutes, she stepped back in the room and explained she had to travel down to the Dean's office for a minute.

Matt suddenly began to massage my shoulders gently. I felt all my tension melt away at his sensual touch. "Oh," I exclaimed softly, "that feels so good. Don't stop."

As Matt continued to gently massage me, I pushed my desk back flush with his in order to allow him maximum room and access. Matt responded by slowly pulling my blouse out of my short skirt until it was completely in the open.

The young man began to massage my back near my waist. God, it felt so good and I moaned softly. Matt then placed his hands higher on my back and then moved them around front to my breasts, pausing one in a while to rub my nipples. I began to squirm in my desk seat.

"Oh Matt," I whispered.

Matt quietly slipped out of his desk and dropped to one knee beside my desk. He reached out with the touch of a surgeon and unsnapped my skirt and then pulled it down to the class room floor, leaving me sitting there half nude in the middle of class! God, I was already sopping wet.

The tall, young man stood up beside me and pulled me up into his arms, while slipping his open long raincoat completely around me. I reached down and unbuckled Matt's belt, unsnapped his light brown trousers and pushed them and his red bikini briefs down to his knees, completely freeing his new totally rigid penis.

Matt leaned down kissing me passionately and then lowered his body by bending his knees, while I groped his thick erection, finally culminating with me standing on my tip toes while helping to guide his penis into my engorged labia.

"Oh God," I moaned as Matt began to rock inside of me.

It was so incredibly sexy to be standing there in the middle of a populated college classroom making love. I managed to turn my head just enough to use my peripheral vision to observe the entire class was silently watching our every move, except for one guy who was sound asleep with his head on his desk. I bet when he woke up later and discovered what he'd missed he'd be pissed. Haha!

Matt was indeed a wonderful lover in the best sense of the word. He continued to make slow deep thrusts into me, taking his time as though he had all the time in the world. The feelings I was experiencing were exquisite as the extremely confident young man never varied his pace. Don't get me wrong. Matt wasn't being gentle in any stretch of the imagination but was pounding into me with each and every thrust – whap, whap, whap. It was so silent in the classroom otherwise that the sound from each thrust sounded like a bullet exploding. Just knowing the other students were hearing that was turning me on even more.

With each one of his savage thrusts into me I felt so God damn good that I was teetering right on the edge of orgasm the entire time. I wanted to feel his entire naked body against mine and I reached up to his top button and pulled his shirt completely open and then pulled him closely to me. Jesus! Naked skin to naked skin always feels so wonderful to me. I bet I wasn't ever held when I was a baby. That would fit my parents perfectly too.

Once I did that, Matt began to really pound into me at a much faster rate. It must have turned him on too. He was now wildly plunging his steel hard penis into me at an incredible rate and I could tell he was just on the verge of his orgasm. I think he was trying to hold himself back until I cummed which was sweet but basically stupid because I can cum just by looking at someone.

I figured I had one ploy up my lack of sleeves which would turn the trick immediately; besides I wanted to see his nude body. I reached up and totally surprised him, to say the least, by sliding his coat and shirt off his body leaving him standing there wearing nothing but me!

His bikini briefs and trousers had long since fallen to his ankles leaving him standing in class basically totally nude. I took a quick glance around the room while continuing to twitch my hips in time with his continued pounding into my cunt with his prodigious penis and I noticed all of the young women who were all watching Matt's love making appeared completely enthralled and intrigued.

'And that's what wrong with America today,' I thought. 'There's no virgins left.'

Sure enough as soon as I had denuded him, Matt shot off like a rocket to the moon – blast off! I pulled him even closer to me as he twitched over and over in his cum spasms. Boy, I was surprised to see he had so much cum in him. I figured a good looking guy like him would be getting some hot sex action every night of the week, but he probably was one of those nice guys who didn't assert himself enough with women.

Seemingly out of the blue my orgasm started to bubble out of me. It felt as though it started at the soles of my feet and worked its way up – it felt that good. I'm sure the reason it was so great was because I was really getting off on the fact that we were fucking in front of the entire class!

"Oh God!" I cried out. "You're so fucking good!"

I didn't have to cry out. In fact, it would have been prudent on my part to have remained silent, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to help Matt by advertising what a great lover he was and I also couldn't help but screw with my classmates' minds a little more. You know me!

In fact it immediately became apparent that it was totally imprudent of me as just at the second that I shouted out at my moment of climax, our instructor, Miss Collins stepped back into the classroom. Naturally her attention was immediately drawn to us because of my indiscreet screaming.

By the way, I just referred to her as Miss Collins rather than the more politically correct Ms. or even, God forbid, Mrs. for a reason. I really didn't know how old she was at the time, but she always looked to me to be about twelve years old. From certain things she had said concerning herself during the teaching of the class, I was led to believe that she had done incredibly well in school and in fact had been allowed to skip grades several times.

Consequently Miss Collins could have been as young as seventeen or eighteen years of age when she began her first year of instructing the year before. On top of that, she wore a pair of huge round unattractive glasses, Godawful plaid knee skirts with some kind of old ruffled colored blouses and had her hair in pigtails!

I kid you not. She wore pigtails. What I'm attempting to communicate here is I think the area that Miss Collins was mature in was her education. I had always felt she was a stone cold virgin and probably never had even been out on a date. What happened next proved my point.

As Matt had his back to the doorway, I certainly didn't want him to turn around and wave his still hard prick at Miss Collins. She might have had a psychotic break. Mwahaha! I quickly whispered to him that our instructor was standing in the doorway and he best get dressed as quickly as possible.

I had locked eye contact with her and you can best believe she was blushing as bright red as a fire truck. The average professor who walked in on such a situation in their classroom would have been screaming holy hell, but Miss Collins just stood there completely nonplussed. I do think it was probably a miracle that she didn't faint.

As soon as Matt had pulled his clothes up and on including his long raincoat, I used him as a shield to pull on the paltry amount of clothes I usually wear. Of course the minute the young instructor had returned to the classroom, the rest of the class had swung around to eyes forward, not wanting to become involved in our sexual shenanigans in any way. This turned out to work in our best interest as it allowed Miss Collins once she could finally move again to just return to her desk at the front of the room and ignore the entire thing.

As she lectured for the last few minutes of the class which were all that were left to her, Miss Collins remained extremely flushed appearing. I bet she had areas in her body tingling she hadn't even been aware of. I sat there barely listening as I was experiencing the highly desired afterglow of good sex and I wasn't going to let anything as mundane as education to interrupt that.

Finally the bell rang to signal the end of the hour. It so happened I didn't have another class for an hour so I was looking forward to maybe pulling Matt along with me somewhere – like maybe the library, haha.

I noticed when everyone exited the classroom they were cutting sly glances at us and some of the guys still were sporting obvious erections beneath their tight jeans. That didn't necessarily connote anything though. In my experience guys can get hard just watching paint dry.

Matt and I were standing in the very back of the line exiting the classroom and just before we left Miss Collins discovered her voice and asked me to remain. I'm thinking naturally why just me, that Matt was involved too, although I already knew the answer to it. She really liked Matt from the year before when she had taught him..

I'll say this for Matt. Unlike most other guys that I know he didn't cut and run, he stood right there beside me waiting.

"You can go, Matthew. I need to speak with Sara alone."

"But-."

"Please, Matthew," Miss Collins entreated. She certainly was a shy thing. I think I might have felt sorry for her in ordinary circumstances but since I was certain she was about to take me down to the Dean's office and have me expelled I was a little light in the sympathy department.

Matt offered one 'Well, I tried' glance at me and then had to leave. I understood. It wouldn't have helped me any if he got into trouble too. The instructor walked him out into the hall and then came back into the classroom, closed the door and locked it. I must admit I was very surprised that Miss Collins didn't just dump me off at the Dean of Student's office and I looked in askance at her when she returned to me.

Of course none of this stopped her from saying that tired old hackneyed, "Sara! What exactly were you doing when I came back into the room?"

I think all teachers take a special class in education entitled 'Useless Inanities and Other Foolish Ways to Confront Your Students.' I suddenly had this gut feeling that nothing bad was going to come out of this.

One reason was I think Miss Collins was far too shy to talk to the Dean about two students having...you know...uh...sex together. Haha! And the other reason was how badly it would reflect on her teaching skills for something to happen like that in her classroom. Instructors are attempting to someday be accepted as professors and something like public shagging going on when you're supposed to be teaching college algebra just doesn't help your case for long term employment.

I decided that I wasn't going to pretend to be led around by the nose by this young virgin, so when she said, "Sara! What exactly were you doing when I came back into the room?" I responded with "We were fucking our brains out!"

"Sara!" she complained, flushing bright crimson. "There's no need to be vulgar."

"I agree, I just enjoy it."

"Sara, I'm going to ask you again," Miss Collins began to say.

"No," I interrupted. "I want to ask you some questions first. What's your first name?"

The young instructor stood slightly stunned, not quite certain how the reversal in interrogation had occurred but she apparently found the question to not be considered too personal to answer.

"Dorothy," she replied.

"Do you like to be called Dot, Dottie, what?"

"I prefer to be called Dorothy," Miss Collins said formally.

"Okay, Dorothy it is. Now how old were you when you graduated from college?"

She hesitated but finally answered because I had her completely off balance. This was not the way she had intended this interview to proceed but the young woman now appeared powerless to stop it.

"I was seventeen when I obtained my M.A.," Dorothy explained shyly.

"Seventeen, Gawd! You must be a damn genius," I exclaimed.

"Sara," she said primly, "I wish you wouldn't curse."

"Well, you know what they say, you can wish in one hand and – oh, never mind. So you still live at home with your parents?" I asked.

Lowering her head until she was no longer looking at me, she murmured, "Uh huh."

That certainly let me know she was embarrassed about not living on her own, but for God's sake she was only nineteen and actually emotionally she was probably about twelve. So moving on to the more pertinent information, I asked, "Have you ever been on a date?"

Dorothy quickly raised her head to glare at me. "I don't see where that is any of your business," she snapped.

I giggled at her. "Well, that answers that question. You haven't, have you?"

The young instructor's entire expression softened from anger to sadness. "No, not really. I've gone out with groups of people in college thanks to roommates who always felt so sorry for me being so young and socially out of place; but to answer your question no, no one has ever asked me out on a date."

While Dorothy was speaking I had reached over and gently removed her glasses and placed them on her desk. Before she could complain, I queried, "Do you actually need those to see?"

"Well," she equivocated, "I need them some for reading."

"Ok, use them just for reading and do yourself a favor, get contacts or better still get that laser surgery done. You're just hiding behind these. Now what's with this hair?" I asked while moving behind and starting to take it apart.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Dorothy demanded.

"Take the other side and unravel it," I directed. "What'd you do – wear your hair like this when you were twelve?"

"Yes," she responded in a small voice.

"Well, it's time you grew up," I suggested.

Once we had her hair untangled, I asked her if she had a brush. After she silently handed it to me, I spent the next five minutes brushing her hair out until it looked great. She had dark black hair that brushed out to hanging halfway down her back.

I wouldn't say she was beautiful by any means, but she was certainly damn attractive now that she wasn't wearing those horrid appearing glasses and her pigtails.

"You know," I said, "you're really very pretty and no one would ever know it."

Miss Collins blushed and lowered her head. "No, I'm not," she murmured.

'So it's gonna be like that, is it? That's okay I love a good challenge,' I thought. Mwahaha!

Next I leaned over and unsnapped her skirt in preparation of pulling it down. "Stop!" she demanded in a panicked voice. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see what your body looks like underneath all this crap you wear."

"No," she insisted, struggling with me.

I paid her no mind at all and pulled her skirt off. I wasn't even surprised when I discovered she was wearing a full slip beneath her skirt and red blouse. That meant the blouse had to go too.

"Take your blouse off," I said.

"I will not!" Dorothy exclaimed, attempting to reach her skirt I was still holding in my hand.

I was discovering this to be extremely tiresome. "Look, take the damn blouse off!" I exclaimed. "I want to see how good a body you have beneath all these poofed out clothes. Or would you rather I ripped it off you?"

Still greatly blushing Dorothy finally obeyed me unbuttoning and removing her red blouse. She stood attired in a full slip.

"There, that's wasn't so bad was it?" I asked the trembling young woman. "I 'am' a woman you know. You certainly don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"But we're in public," she protested in a half whine.

"And the door is locked and there's no class expected for another hour," I answered her.

I reached up and pulled her slip down off her shoulders and then all the way down her body and ordered her to lift her feet. When she complied, I placed her slip over with her skirt and blouse. Holy shit, Batman! You wouldn't have believed it! It looked as if she were wearing an industrial bra and panties with reinforced steel. I'm surprised she wasn't wearing a chastity belt.

"Sara, don't look," Dorothy complained, attempting to cover herself with her hands.

"Haha! I can see why you wouldn't want me to look. Where do you buy that hideous underwear from? The Sears mail catalogue?"

"Why, yes, I do," she answered a bit nonplussed. "What's wrong with that?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong with it, men like sexy underclothing on a young woman – not that stuff."

"Men!" she squealed. I swear to God she was blushing again.

"Yeah, men," I repeated. "You know what men are right? They look alot like us but they don't have big breasts and they have penises."

"Sara. please!" Dorothy protested.

"Oh, okay," I replied. "I wasn't planning on it, but if you're gonna raise a fuss then I'll have to." And I proceeded to pull her panties down to her feet. She had the prettiest black pubic hair.

Of course she dropped her hands to cover her pubic area and I used the opportunity to pull off her bra. Oh, it was just all so predictable. Haha! Just another stripping of a college instructor in her classroom in the middle of the school day.

After removing her bra I discovered she had the prettiest breasts with gorgeous nipples. I reached out and pulled her hands down from where she was attempting to cover her pussy, and wasn't surprised at all to observe that she had a real right tight body. 

"You are so pretty," I gushed. "Why do you hide yourself behind such horrible clothes?"

"I'm frightened," the young teacher spoke barely audible.

"You're frightened of men?" I asked.

"No," Dorothy answered shaking her head. "I'm frightened of being rejected, of no one finding me attractive so it's easier if I reject myself before someone else can."

Well, at least she had some insight into herself – it was a crock of shit, but it was insight. I had a dual fold plan in mind for this young woman. The young instructor of course had continued to blush furiously at me staring at her naked body.

"There's no need to be so embarrassed," I smiled at her. "I've seen all this equipment before.

When Dorothy offered me a tentative shy smile I knew I was home free. I quickly pulled her to me in a loving embrace. I don't think anyone had ever done that for her before as she began to embrace me in earnest in return. It would have of course felt much better to me if I were nude too and it was also quite a switch that I was fully dressed and my lover was naked.




An Interlude with Matt



I realized I needed to go slowly with her. I began to run my hands lightly over her naked body. By this time Dorothy was making no complaints. I think my touch felt so good to her that she no longer cared about anything other than my caresses. I was kissing her face softly, although I made no move toward her lips. I was going very slowly with her and didn't want to make any sudden moves which might flip her out.

I slipped out of my outfit as unobtrusively as possible leaving me once again standing naked in the classroom. I had no interest at this point to have the young teacher do anything to satisfy me sexually. I just wanted her to feel my bare skin rubbing on hers. It always feels so good to me.

"Oh Sara," Dorothy exclaimed. "I really didn't get a good look at you earlier. You are so pretty."

My answer was to reach down with my hand to her pussy. She was wet as could be and her cunt was wide open. She was ready for anything. I momentarily disengaged myself from my embrace of the pretty young woman and reached into my knapsack. I pulled out a eight inch dildo.

Well, what did you did expect me to take out – a pencil? Doesn't everybody bring a dildo to class? Mwahaha! I gently lay her back on her desk and positioned her legs far apart with her knees drawn up. Her labia was so distended and wide open in that position it looked like the Grand Canyon. I couldn't miss that target.

I leaned over Dorothy from the right side of the desk and kissed her finally passionately but kept my tongue in my mouth. I still didn't want to freak her with thinking she was under some kind of crazed lesbo attack. This was not an ordinary dildo, no sir. This was the 'Accommodator.' Not only was it natural looking and very long, a person could fit it comfortably around the head to hold it in place or around the waist. I paid a lot of jack for this I don't mind telling you. This was the 'Rolls Royce' of dildos.

This was going to be perfect for the young virgin's first sexual experience. Dorothy's eyes grew very wide as she watched me belt the dildo around my waist. I said, "Don't worry, hon. It'll only hurt when you laugh, and I'm gonna have you screaming in ecstasy in a minute."

I'm quite the romantic, ain't I? I positioned myself at the end of desk and put my hands around the teacher's narrow waist and gently pulled her to me until her legs were hanging down off the desk and her cunt was right on the edge. I very carefully inserted the large dildo into her distended pussy. She was so wet even though she was virginally tight it slid right in and the cunt walls surrounding it literally suctioned the dildo in further.

I didn't see any reason to waste much time. For one thing, we only had about another forty-five minutes until the next class would be clamoring at the door. The other thing was I saw no reason to drag it out. When I punctured her hymen it would hurt for a bit but after that it would feel good; plus she had the golden advantage of me bringing her to orgasm in her very first sexual experience. How many young women can claim that? How many have had just the opposite experience with an inexperienced teenage boy going wham bam thank you m'am and being finished before the poor girl knew what hit her – hmmm? That's right – you guys are scum! Mwahaha! Just kidding, don't worry. It just takes more girls like me to break you guys in right.

I begin to thrust into her with a fast rhythm of in and out, in and out, each time getting closer to breaking through her virginal wall. This was really fun – getting to be the guy for a change. Having this large artificial penis strapped around me really gave me the feeling of what it might be like being a guy and plunging wildly into a woman. Of course I wasn't experiencing the same feelings and yet I was terrifically wet down there and the dildo was bouncing back against my pussy so I was feeling pretty good anyway.

Suddenly the dildo and I (great name for a book, huh? – the dildo and I) broke through her hymen. She was brave I'll say this for her, she just moaned a little. On the other hand, maybe she was too frightened of losing her job if someone heard us or maybe she just wanted to be rid of it once and for all. Personally I think she was sick and tired of being a virgin and was thankful I had come along when I did. And that is what she expressed to me later.

As soon as I knew I was through her virginal barrier I really became motivated to bring her to fruition and make Dorothy's initial sexual experience a memorable one. I was really banging into her now. In fact the whole thing of being naked with one of my instructors in her classroom in the middle of the day and fucking her brains out with a dildo was turning me on too!

I was so wet it was a veritable flood and I was close to achieving my orgasm myself. Now I guess I was having the opportunity to view the sexual experience from the man's perspective and how difficult it might be for him sometimes to hold off his climax until his female partner had achieved bliss. Because I had the definite feeling that once I spewed my cum out I wouldn't feel as motivated to continue servicing my young lover.

Consequently I did as I heard one time that men did to postpone orgasm; I began to think of things I strongly disliked, such as liver, broccoli, geometry class, the Smurfs! Mwahaha And suddenly Dorothy began to moan louder and louder until she began calling out, "Oh Sara!" and she experienced what she told me later was her first orgasm ever, never having masturbated!

I then allowed myself free rein and we came together. It was heavenly and who would guessed that college held for me two orgasms in two hours. Now that's an education I can relate to. I slipped the 'accommodator' off me and pulled her up from the desk and hugged her tightly. Finally seeing by the clock on the wall that the next class was due in ten minutes, I suggested to Dorothy that we had better get dressed if we didn't want to offer the next class some unusual entertainment.

I insisted Dorothy wear my blouse and short skirt and wouldn't give the young teacher her industrial underwear back. I threw them and the dildo back into my knapsack and put on her Godawful skirt and blouse. Man, people were giving me strange looks for the rest of the day because of that outfit.

The End