✧The Beast He Raised✧
Without hesitation, he laid Erna down on the grass, resting himself between her legs and pressing into her soft, warm body. Her pale complexion stood out when laid amongst the vibrant red and of the blanket.
Their eyes met and never wavered. Ordinarily, Erna would have shrunk away from him, avoided eye contact as much as possible, but right now, she seemed to hunger for his gaze upon her. She wanted to be seen and even though Bjorn could barely focus through the alcoholic haze, he could see the shadows of tall grasses and flowers dance upon her breasts.
Bjorn leaned in and kissed her, fighting the urge to rush right to the sex. He was enjoying this newly found passion in her and he could taste the wine on her lips. She responded to him with more enthusiasm than she had ever shown. She was breathing heavily and her fingers scrapped through his hair.
After releasing the lock on her lips, his hands moved around to the back of her neck and he moved in to caress her. He laughed when he found the silk ribbon in the way, Erna laughed too. It was a pure of heart noise and more eccentric.
Bjorn did his best to fight off the urges with deep sighs, but as the two continually embraced and kissed, he was finding it harder. In the end, he caved in and started kissing along her clavicle, down the centre of her chest and took her breast into his mouth.
Erna moaned like a purring kitten. She gripped the blanket tightly, scrunching up the fabric, causing the empty bottles and glasses to topple. The sound of their clashing fell on deaf ears.
Bjorn continued kissing and sucking at her creamy flesh, around her breasts, her waist and her navel. He teased her with his tongue and Erna gasped with the introduction of each new sensation. He was barely touching her, but she felt like she couldn’t breath, grabbing and pulling at the picnic blanket did nothing to help her control the feeling pulsing up from her groin and chest.
Bjorn lips were being exceptionally tenacious today. Erna had been counting, to try and maintain control, but she lost that idea some time ago and could do nothing now but lay back and let Bjorn do his thing. Bjorn let go, pulling away from her and giving her chance to catch her breath.
As she breathed, Erna opened her eyes and looked at Bjorn. He parted her legs wide and she felt like a butterfly, landing on the picnic blanket to rest, before taking flight on fragile wings.
He ignored her call. When she realised where he was looking and what his intentions were, she tried to cross her legs with an embarrassed scream. His firm grip prevented her and she no longer felt like the fragile butterfly.
“Don’t do that,” she said in embarrassment.
She felt shame that she had lost control during her drunkenness. She tried to free her ankles from his grip, but he just held on tighter. Sunlight gathered in the corners of his narrowed eyes, like he was trying to evaluate something.
Erna stared at him in a daze. His lips curled into a sly grin and he moved to rest between her far flung thighs. Erna’s confidence left her as she forgot the lessons in the bedroom in that instant.
Erna’s shrieks melted to moans and sent the songbirds flying off in panicked cries. She had been trying to escape Bjorn grasp, but the second she felt his tongue, she couldn’t resist and melted into the pleasure of his movements. When Bjorn came back up to look at Erna panting on the ground, her hands gripped his hair and pulled him back in.
Eventually, Erna turned into a trembling puddle and Bjorn kissed her shaking thighs. His lips were wet and warm. Her bosom rose and fell with dramatic heaves of breath, it was like flowers blooming within her and a kaleidoscope of butterflies dancing around her tummy.
Composed just a little, Erna grabbed Bjorn and pulled him in for a kiss. She had wanted to hide the shame of her covering his lips, it tasted lewd and she didn’t know what to do with that. Without meaning to, she wrapper her legs around his and thrust her hips up toward him as they kissed deeply.
“Erna…Erna hold on a second,” Bjorn said, pulling away from Erna. She noted the surprise on his face.
“Yes, yes, I know,” She mumbled half to herself and sighed.
She quickly fumbled with the belt and buttons of his trousers. The damn things didn’t want to come off and she could hear Bjorn chuckling to himself, laughing at her inexperience. That only spurred Erna on and before he knew it, he was exposed and her thighs were wrapped around him again, pulling him in close.
“Erna, seriously, what are you doing?”
Embarrassed by the unintentional situation, Erna applied all her training before Bjorn could stop her. Shy at first, but step by step, with sincere, ladylike repose, she worked his hardened penis like it was a lollipop she had gotten at the festival.
Bjorn’s head went back and he let out a gasping moan. He tugged at Erna’s brown hair and his eyes were wide with the pleasure of her teasing.
The day when he had to calm a his hysterical wife after their first time was gone, now there was just this greed for the pleasure. He had done his best to control himself, out of respect for Buford, her birth place. That’s what the feeling had been all along. This place, where little Erna had been playing house, making daisy chains and other such childish games.
Erna noticed Bjorn’s furrowed brow and wondered if she had hurt him accidentally, he was thicker in her mouth than she expected.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, amidst shallow breaths of pleasure.
“No,” Bjorn replied, swallowing his saliva, he was salivating like a wild animal.
Erna went back to sucking on the tip of Bjorn and the surprised gasps from his urged her to try and take more. It was strange, his moans made her smile grow wide.
“Erna…stop it,” Bjorn whispers, but Erna was unrelenting.
Bjorn tried to pay homage to the fertile land around them, which grew the best grapes, made the best wine. He didn’t know what they did to the wine, but it certainly had a profound effect on his wife. Buford deserved the title of the best wine in the land, no, the continent.
“Stop, Erna, stop it,” he cried it ecstasy.
He grabbed a fistful of Erna’s hair and even as he told her to stop, pushed himself into her mouth. She pulled away and he didn’t stop her.
“Don’t, please, don’t stop,” he whimpered.
Hesitantly, Erna continued.
He recalled all the deeds of all the unfortunate things he had left behind and was barely able to endure it. Today was the day to celebrate Buford’s amazing ability to create the finest pleasures in many ways. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, he might have had to endure considerable humiliation.
Erna let out a high pitched, surprised squeal, muffled by a full mouth and swallowed. Bjorn went limp and a sleepy look rested on his face.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Erna said, taking a breath and sitting to face Bjorn. “This is your taste?” she said with sultry words as she kissed him
“I don’t know if I would say it was a pleasant taste, but it was your taste, so I like it.”
That final blow really stunned Bjorn and he looked at the once naive girl. Was this really the same Erna? He had raised a wild beast.
Seeing Erna blur her consciousness with a bright smile, Bjorn was amazed and understood why Leonid wanted to stay in college to teach the younger students.
Bjorn practically threw himself at Erna, who accepted him eagerly, even before he had a chance to strip down fully.
She became awash with unbearable intoxication, which only grew stronger with each crashing wave of pleasure. Everything became hyper vivid, from the soft, cotton clouds that hung lazily in the sapphire blue sky, to the emerald grass that danced in the gentle breeze. Even the lilies and daisy’s looked like flickering gemstones on the grass swathed hills. Everything in her rose tinted vision was dazzlingly beautiful, Bjorn above all. The man inside her.
Bjorn thrust into her with ever growing force, pushing her into the soft earth and through it. A little more, just a little more.
Under him, caught by impatience, Erna moaned and writhed as he did, their movements were synchronised. Bjorn knew that under her breathy ecstasy, she was feeling a little pain too, but that was out of his control and she practically begged for him.
What has changed?
The question he could not answer only made him more impatient and fierce with his thrusting. He tried to block out everything else in the world, except the woman under him. He couldn’t believe she was so amicable to do it outside, in the open air like this.
When their eyes met, Erna parted her lips in such a small and delicate manner, like she was eating little bits of fruit, and let out a cry. Bjorn kissed her and Erna draped all over him. She found him to be exceptionally gentle and comforting, but now Bjorn was only interested in one thing and Erna felt the rise.
Erna held on tightly, gripping Bjorn in a bear hug and Bjorn strained, paused in his movements and his hips spasmed wildly. Erna felt his warmth spread inside her.
Erna looked about in a half daze, trying to pull the world back into focus. The blurred leaves of the tree danced above her head, making shadows ripple over her body. She struggled to catch her breath and the view quickly changed. Where the unfocused branches swayed, it was replaced by the sharp focus of Bjorn’s face.
While their sweaty bodies cooled, the two remained silent in each other’s arms. She was worried about what to do if she was heavy, but decided she could be a little selfish and snuggled deeper into his arms.
“As for you,” Erna mumbled, her thoughts starting to organise themselves again, “yours is warm, a bit too big and hard, but still soft.”
“Shut up, you drunkard,” Bjorn teased.
“I like it, it tastes good. I’m a lady, so I won’t be using harsh words, but please don’t think that I am too good to not use them.”
The beast he had raised whispered softly into the pleasant selling wind. A tiny sigh of bittersweet resignation left Bjorn’s lips and he wrapped his arms around Erna tighter. After such a thoughtful present, it was his time to show gratitude and generosity.
He was willing to accept that deal.