Bjⱷrn held a cup steaming cup of tea in one hand, milk no sugar, and black coffee for him in the other. He shifted them so that he could open the door. He smiled to see her roll over as he entered, “Good afternoon, sexy.”
She giggled, “And whose fault is that? Keeping me up all night with…” she blushed before continuing, “great conversation.”
“Yes, well, it seems that I might do a tad more on a first date than just kiss,” he joked as he held out her cup of tea. She smiled, and the blush reached the corners of those delectable ear lobes as she took the cup.
He considered whether to sit on the bed next to her. He wanted to be as close to her as possible when they were together. But considering the topic of conversation, he might be safer on the other side of the room. A cup of hot tea might not be as lethal as one of their fishing hooks, but it could do severe damage nonetheless. In the end, he could not resist her charms. He just hoped that his reflexes would be fast enough if things got heated, and not in a good way like last night.
“How did you sleep?” he asked as she lowered the cup from those pink lips that had him distracted already.
“Better than you did from the looks of it,” she teased.
He shrugged, “I’ll survive. I have gone on less sleep than the past couple of nights before. When the seas get rough, we all have to be on watch,” he took a sip of his coffee and held her gaze. It was the opening he was looking for, “Speaking of which, Svein says that we will not make port today. The winds have been against us so far,” he hoped that was not prophetic as he tiptoed into these dangerous waters. “That means I have watch tonight.”
He heard her deep intake of breath as she nodded her head. He knew that her mind was going down that pathway anyway, better that he take the lead and quickly. “You may choose again tonight, who shares your bed. Svein or Mikael?”
She nodded without looking up at him as she took another long sip of the light brown liquid. He debated whether to say more or wait patiently. When she finally did look up, he saw her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears in the bright early afternoon sun.
“I’m sorry. I guess it is silly. It is just,” she stammered along as she gripped the cup so tightly that her knuckles shone white in its light, “I guess I just thought that what we shared, what happened last night, I don’t know…” she shook her head and dropped her head.
He took her cup and put both of them on the table. When he came back, he gave her no choice as he nudged his body into the bed next to her. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. He held her for a moment even though he felt the tension in her.
He knew that she was fighting her own battle in her mind. A considerable part of her wanted to push him away, throw something at him, curse him for a liar. But she stayed nestled there, and that was a good sign.
After a long moment, he placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. The tears had spilled over; they ate like acid in his gut. For a moment, he thought about changing his mind. He was sure that Svein would still take tonight’s watch.
But that was not their way. Where would that leave his brothers? Svein would, as he had since he first went to sea with their fathers at seven, pour all of himself into Njörður’s Captive. He would work too hard, laugh too little, grow old, and die at sea. And Mikael? As angry as he was with his brother at the moment, he was the reason that Bjⱷrn had begun this search. He and Monica needed what Kirsty could give more even than he did.
No, as much as he might selfishly want to keep her all to himself, she was their only hope. She was their anchor. Their One. He was more certain of that than ever, after last night.
He sighed, it seemed he was battling them all: Mikael, Svein, even her. None of them could see what he saw so clearly. They needed one another. They were stronger together than they ever could be apart.
He brushed her tears aside, “Last night was special. What we have is and always will be special. And I know that your mind is battling a lifetime of tradition. I also know that some kinky part of you,” he chuckled, “wants more than that. Look at me, my love.” He purposefully used the endearment to make his point.
She looked up and smiled weakly at him. Her throat constricted; he could see that she was still fighting back those tears, “Tell me, sweetheart. Look me in the eye and tell me that if it were just us, just the two of us, monogamy, you would never look at Svein and remember the feel of his ropes around your wrists. That you would never think about whatever the hell, and please don’t tell me, it was that Mikael did to you that made you scream like that.”
He smiled as she turned the deepest scarlet that he could imagine, but she neither confirmed nor denied what he said. That told him all he needed to know. “I thought so. Kirsty, know this; monogamy is not the only way.”
“What you share with Svein, or even with Mikael, will not lessen one bit what we have between us. And hopefully, over time, that sweet spirit you have can even take a bit off our edges. Be the thread that ties us together.”
He laced his fingers through hers and brought them to his lips, “You know that rope of my brother’s that turns your insides to mush as much as my hand on your throat?”
“Tonight, when he brings it out, look at it. It is not a single strand. It is not just two strands. It is several. All woven together to give it the strength that it needs to do the job.”
“That is what our lifestyle, our marriage, is all about. Its job is so hard, so difficult that two strands do not provide enough strength. It takes all of us. And you, my love, are the one strand that can bind us all together. Hold us together when the world, and probably each of us, wants to rip us apart.”
He kissed her nose and noted that the tears were not as bright now in those expressive eyes, “I know that sounds like a huge job. And I won’t lie, it is. But I believe,” he shook his head. “No, I know in here that you are the woman who can do it. You are our One,” he finished as he thumped his chest.
He waited and watched her face as he saw his words play through her mind. He honestly did not know what more he could say if she still had doubts. He wished that Petrine was there; his mother would know just what to say to their wife. But she was not, and a great deal rode on this night. On Kirsty’s ability to embrace their lifestyle and on his to let her go, which he knew would be a lot harder than he let on to her.
Slowly she nodded her head, “Okay,” she whispered.
He chuckled, “Okay, what, my love?”
She shook her head, “Okay, Master?” she offered insecurely.
“No, not Master in this. I will not force you. And I will not make a choice for you. So I ask again: Svein or Mikael?” He watched her chew that bottom lip again. Damn, it was so cute.
“Svein?” she whispered, looking up at him.
He wanted to sigh in relief at her choice, but he could not let his desires affect her decision. “Was that your answer or a question, Kirsty?”
She shrugged, “A bit of both, I guess.”
They both laughed, “Since I will not make your decision for you, now or ever, I will take that as your answer,” he smiled.
She shifted nervously in his arms. He toyed with his next move. His brother might have his head for this one or thank him in the morning. He knew he would resent like hell if Svein or Mikael interfered in their relationship.
On the other hand, he had already decided his first loyalty was to her now. And if he could ease the way for her, make this evening more enjoyable. Damn, why did that word taste like shit in his mind?
He sighed as he decided, for right or wrong. “Did you bring it?”
She scrunched up her forehead, “Bring what? I don’t understand.”
“The corset?” he asked.
Her instant blush told him even before the slight nod of her head that she had. He smiled as he remembered the message string when they had discussed taste in lingerie.
Of course, his preference would always be what she wore right now, his shirt. Him. But he had spent enough time in clubs with his brothers to know what each of them liked. In women. In lingerie. And in kinky fetishes.
And he knew just what would push his brother’s button. “Wear that tonight then. Do you know the submissive pose?”
She frowned and shook her head, “Then let’s begin there, shall we?”
He hoped he was not going too far. If he was, it might be his face that got re-arranged and not Mikael’s. He slapped her butt, playfully, “Up then, get your cute ass out of bed. Time for some lessons on being a good little sub.”
Svein shook his head as he reached for the towel. What was he doing taking a shower in the bathroom down the hall? But he had turned his cabin over to her.
Her. It seemed that she ruled everything. Even before she came on board the ship, she had been all that they thought about, talked about, argued about for months.
He ran his hands through his wet hair and banged his head on the wall next to the mirror. It had only gotten worse since the moment he brought her on board. Mikael was more withdrawn and sullen if that were possible. And Bjⱷrn? His ordinarily jovial baby brother that let nothing get to him suddenly was acting more like a bear with a thorn in its paw. Svein had been afraid a couple of times that he would have to come between them.
And him? Fuck, he could not seem to think straight anymore. It was his little head that was doing all the talking these days. And that little head wanted nothing more than to bury itself once more in the sweet, tight welcome of her body. Damn it; he needed to get her out of his blood. Had to get this damned thing under control.
He laughed. Bjⱷrn thought that he was trying to protect him and the woman by offering to take watch tonight. That was not it at all. He was trying to defend himself. Trying to avoid getting caught any deeper in her web.
He thought about the strands of her red hair spread across his white pillow that first time. It had been so delicate, so beautiful, so stark, like the web of a spider. And he was a fly. His brothers were flies. “Fuck,” he spat as he pounded his fists against the wall.
Because no matter how much he might fight it, his body had other ideas. Just the image of her lying naked with her hair spread across his pillow had his cock half hard. And now he faced a whole night with her.
“Not going to get any easier standing here, old man,” he said to the aging face in the mirror.
That had been why he had agreed, why he had gone along with Bjⱷrn and their mother. He was getting older. He had spent a lifetime fighting for their way of life. Since seven, when he had finally convinced Stig that he could help more than get in their way, Njörður’s Captive and the sea had been his all. He was determined that despite the changes, their family’s fishing business would survive. Their traditions would continue.
But that was just it; continue for what? For how long? He was almost forty now. He had what another twenty years at sea? Maybe twenty-five? Even Bjⱷrn could only continue it for another thirty or so.
No, the whole point of it was family, something to pass on to the next generation. But there was no ‘next’ generation. As much as he loved his niece and he did, he could not see Monica, the only child they had produced, a girl, and… Well, with her challenges, managing Njörður’s Captive all alone was not viable.
They needed sons. Strong sons. To fish the seas as they did. As their fathers had. And their grandfathers. And their grandfather’s grandfathers. That meant they needed a wife to give them those sons.
That was where his logic failed him. Because when he was with her, hell, when he thought about her, it was not so cut and dry. It was not just some fucking biological imperative to reproduce. Some need to spread his genes.
He wanted more than that. So, much more than that with her. His brother had hit a bit too close to the truth when he spoke about the way those deep blue eyes of hers dilated and grew so fucking big when she came, when she tasted fear. The soft way that she inhaled when he got too close, brushed even casually against her. It had his guts and his nuts in a knot.
Why couldn’t Bjⱷrn have just gone along with his suggestion? Spent this night – and all the others with her. But his brother was right there too. They could not go back. He might have had no sexual thoughts about Greta, might have even been repulsed when she tried to seduce him behind Mikael’s back. Not that he would ever tell Mikael what she did.
But Kirsty was different. She was theirs. She had been his first, before Mikael made her scream. Before she had put that shit-faced grin on Bjⱷrn’s face, even when he knew that his baby brother was about to drop from exhaustion. He had taken her first…as was their way — the right of the eldest. And as much as he might want to fight it. Might want to deny it. He wanted to take her again. Tonight. Every fucking chance he got. He wanted to spend all of them inside her wet, warm cunt.
He opened the door and ran into the little brother that he wanted to strangle at the moment for knowing him better than he knew himself. “I thought you had watch? Changed your mind? Want to spend the night with her after all?”
Why did that thought bother him so much now? It had been his suggestion, after all.
Bjⱷrn smiled, and Svein wanted to knock the smug look off his face. “No, just saying goodnight to our wife before I went back on deck.”
Svein did not like something about the way his baby brother was smiling. He nodded anyway as he tried to shove past him in the narrow hallway. But his brother’s hand on his shoulder stopped him as he leaned in a bit. “Dirty talk,” he half-whispered.
Svein drew back and stared at his brother, “What do you mean? Like slut and whore? That sort of stuff?” She had not seemed the type to be into humiliation. It had not made her fetish list.
Bjⱷrn shook his head, “I don’t know about that stuff. Not my style anyway. But try telling her all the things you’re going to do to her. Her cunt, her pussy, even twat, and cock. See what happens, big brother.”
Svein chuckled and shook his head, “I’m not sure whether to hit you or thank you, baby brother.”
Bjⱷrn’s laughter echoed down the small corridor then, “Yeah, well, that is really going to be the question when you open that door, old man.”
Svein would have asked him what he meant, but his brother was smart enough to make a hasty retreat before he could find the words. Staring down the hall to that closed door, he supposed the only way to find out was to open it.
Reluctantly, he walked that short distance. Why did he feel more like a condemned man than one going to his marital bed? But when he pushed open the door without knocking, his breath froze in his lungs.
She knelt on the floor by the bed. Her knees spread apart as wide as possible. Her hands rested palm up on them. Her head was down, that sea of red hair fell like a waterfall about her face. And she wore nothing but a black corset that hugged every single curve she had.
Those luscious tits threatened to pop out of the top, and he could see the rainbow-colored outline of his teeth marks on the swell of them as clearly as he could see her juices that glistened on her bare cunt.
He was going to have a word with his baby brother for certain. He just was not sure yet what that word would be. But he had to admit that Bjⱷrn had nailed it on the head. She was perfection. Every sub he had ever trained, every fantasy he had ever had, fell short of the woman that knelt on the floor at his feet.
He crossed the room until he stood just in front of her. He brushed her hair back from her face, wrapped it about his fist as he tugged gently, “Look up at me, Kirsten.”
When she lifted those expressive blue pools, he knew he was lost in their depths. He could see the touch of fear, not that he would hurt her, but of the unknown, fear of herself even. He could see too her need to please. He had to admit; she was beautifully submissive at heart, perhaps more than she realized. He could see desire, also. That was like throwing fuel on the flames with him.
He wanted to throw her on the bed and pummel her. Take everything she offered, push the boundaries of her submission. Dominate her, yes, but own her more even than that. But he had all night for that; they would begin just a bit slower. He wondered how far his baby brother’s training of their wife had gotten as he dropped the towel about his waist. “Suck my cock, Kirsten.”
Kirsty felt her nipples harden inside of the corset. Even the soft cotton lining seemed painfully abrasive against the tender nubs. His words were so naughty, so dirty. Demeaning perhaps? So, why the hell were they turning her on so damned much?
She stared at the cock in front of her. She wanted to giggle, but she knew better. No man would appreciate laughter at this point, especially as Bjⱷrn called his brother… an old school Dom. And it was not his cock that she found funny. But herself.
She tentatively reached out her hand, wrapped it around his cock. She weighed it, enjoyed the silky-soft feel encasing pure steel. She began to slowly stroke and caress it as she moved her face closer. She wanted to taste him, every bit as much as she had wanted to taste Bjⱷrn’s last night.
And that was what made her want to giggle. In the space of two days, she had doubled the number of cocks that she had ever actually touched.
She frowned, not quite. She forgot that while Mikael had more than pleasured her body, he had revealed nothing of himself that night. But considering how much she had enjoyed exploring his brothers’, she admitted she wanted to discover more about Mikael’s as well. Yes, a bit of comparing, though not in that way.
Back to the situation, or cock, at hand. She had to admit that she was more than a bit intimidated, insecure about what to do. Sucking Raj’s cock had meant a few jerks on the shaft and a couple of quick licks until it was hard enough to fuck. She wanted more with Svein, more with them. But she was not sure what more there was.
As if he sensed something, Svein tugged at her hair, once more forcing her face to look up into his. “Did you not hear me? Did you not understand, Kirsten?” he growled.
She shook her head slowly and blushed. She tried to look down, but his fingers through her hair prevented her from lower her head. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth as she realized that she had bitten her lower lip, reopening Mikael’s wound.
How could she say it? How did she admit that at twenty-six she had no real idea how to please a man like that? How to give a blowjob?
She felt the tears gathering; how was it that all she seemed to do around these guys was cry? She hated tears. How many times had her mother, her nannies, her headmistress told her: big girls do NOT cry.
“I don’t know how alright,” she knew that she sounded deviant — feared that it would reap her a punishment. Had no idea what that would entail with this man but remembered Bjⱷrn words about it not being meant to give her pleasure.
What she was not expecting was the deep, throaty laugh that seemed to break the ice between them, his light blue eyes sparkled when she found the strength to look up into them then. “I am glad that baby brother left the old man something to train you in.”
She chuckled too, “He said you would like the corset.”
“And I bet he showed you just how to kneel too, did he not?”
Kirsty was not sure what to say. What was proper protocol, etiquette, as her mother would say? How much did you reveal of what you said and did with your other lover, his brothers, in this new and unusual situation?
She thought of what Bjⱷrn had said about there being no secrets between the two of them. But did she not owe Svein and even Mikael loyalty as well. In the end, she simply nodded.
Svein laughed again, and she noticed how it softened the tiny lines on his forehead, about his eyes and mouth. When he laughed, he looked years younger. She wished he laughed more often.
“He has seen me correct enough subs in the clubs to know my preference. And it is a preference. Did he show you other positions as well?” he asked.
She shook her head ‘no,’ and Svein smiled.
“Then we shall begin our lessons there. Back to the way you were when I came in.”
Kirsty was more than a bit disappointed. It was another kind of lesson that she wanted at this point, not more kneeling. But Bjⱷrn’s words…old school…rang in her ears. Until she knew Svein better, she was not going to test her boundaries, lest she was punished for topping from the bottom.
She shifted her weight once more until her bottom rested upon her heels. She spread her knees as wide apart as she could as she dropped her head and brought her hands to rest palm up on her knees.
She heard his intake of breath; then she felt his hand softly caress her cheek. “Baby brother trained you well, Kirsten. I cannot remember even an experienced sub who did that better. Did he tell you why I like this version?”
She shook her head again, but this time Svein gripped her chin and lifted her head. His face was dark and as stern as any Headmaster.
“I see my baby brother has been negligent in other lessons too. When I ask you a question, you do not shake your head or nod at me. You will answer me. Politely. And you will address me as Sir. Is that understood?”
Kirsty started to nod, but quickly caught herself, “Yes, Sir.”
He smiled though it did little to soften that sternness. “Good girl, but do not forget again. You enjoy pain too much for me to use the cane as punishment. No, for you, I think that you should stand in the corner. On your toes, if needed.”
Kirsty blushed and bit her lower lip again. Did he have any idea how humiliating she had found that when she was in school? It was as if she could feel all her classmates looking at her back. It was the punishment she had hated the most, besides calling her parents, of course. But she did not think that Svein would call her mother to report every little infraction of talking in class.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied reluctantly.
“Back to the lesson,” he lowered her head then.
She could see his bare feet. Since when were men’s feet so fascinating, so sexy? But she was careful to follow them only with her eyes, not daring to move her head even when he walked behind her. He reached around her and grasped a wrist in each of his large calloused hands. She could feel his body brush against her back as he bent forward; she inhaled quickly at the casual touch.
Bjⱷrn was right. She was as aware of Svein as she was of him. She could feel her body tensing, craving his touch though she would have sworn after last night that was not possible.
She remembered that little voice in her head from the first day, the best sex of her life. But which? Both, she was shocked by that same voice. It was like Thai and Turkish. Both different flavors. Neither more pleasing than the other.
But he was talking again, and she feared that his version of a pop quiz might be more stringent than the ones from her school days. He brought her arms behind her back. He knelt and carefully laced her fingers together. “Some Doms prefer this position,” he said as he walked back around to the front. His hands fit inside the tight confines of the corset somehow. He grasped her breasts and lifted them out. He rolled the nipple until it was tender.
“As you can see, the advantage is that this position lifts those magnificent tits into full view. Knees together,” he commanded. She obeyed as quickly as possible.
“For me, I have never seen the advantage of that one…when I am with you, I want my cunt,” his emphasis on that word made said organ practically leaking its juices onto the floor. For the first time, she was aware of the cold, hard wood beneath her knees.
“I want my cunt completely open and on view for me.”
Kirsty tried to breathe as she felt his heat at her back once more. She felt his hand on her head; then he was pushing her head towards the floor as well. She panicked for a moment uncertain what he was doing, but she quickly corrected herself as she felt her forehead touch the floor.
He must have been kneeling too because she felt him; his cock brush against her bottom. She sucked for air that seemed too thin to breathe. “This position I will want you to assume from time to time,” she tried to concentrate on his voice, but his fingers were exploring her cunt…pussy. She felt herself leak onto his fingers just at the thought of such naughty words.
But she was not prepared for what he did next. His fingers moved upwards, spreading the wetness around another area. She held her breath and remained utterly still then. “You are a virgin here, yes?”
Kirsty started to nod, but then remembered his warning. “Yes, Sir,” she said, but she was not sure if he could even hear her as quiet as it came out. To be sure, she repeated her answer, “Yes, Sir.”
One hand caressed the round curve of her bottom as a single finger, on the other hand, continued to swirl her juices around it. She could not even bring herself to think about it.
“You will not remain so. I will tell Bjⱷrn and Mikael; your ass is mine alone to train.”
Just that word alone sent shivers down her spine, let alone what he was saying.
“Not for some time, but one day, one day, our sweet wife, we will all enjoy your body at once.”
Kirsty could not stop herself from shivering then, she inhaled loudly at his words. The dark, depths of his voice that promised things she had only read about, things she had never imagined she would do.
He must have bent forward because she felt his hot breath caress the curve of her bottom. “Imagine it, Kirsten. Your sweet lips wrapped around one cock,” his fingers dived lower, sinking inside her wet folds as she cried out her release.
Her eyes went wide as she could almost hear Bjⱷrn’s voice whispering, “Come for me, my sweet Freya.”
But it was his brother’s fingers that was plunging inside of her body, sending her spiraling to such dizzying heights that she feared she would never come down. Then she felt something she had never known, a pressure, slow and steady against her ass. Her body shot further into the stratosphere as she felt his finger slip inside that hole as well.
She was mindless as one orgasm blended into the next. So, she was shocked when she felt something thicker and longer stretching her cunt open, plunging into its depths. Still, there was that strong but steady pressure as his finger invaded her virgin ass.
She would say that she lost count of her orgasms, but that was not possible when it seemed to be nothing but one very long one. Then she felt the heel of his hand resting against her ass cheek as he buried that finger inside of her, she cried out, but it was not pain. It was different. A fullness she was not used to, especially with his thick cock buried to the hilt inside her pussy as she came harder than she could ever remember.
“That is right, Kirsten. Imagine Bjⱷrn’s cock inside this sweet, tight cunt while I fuck your virgin ass.”
Her eyes flew open; her mouth dropped as she exploded around his cock not only at the naughtiest of words but at the very vivid image of that act which she could suddenly picture so clearly in her mind.
His other hand wrapped about her wrists, which had remained laced behind her back. Lifted higher into the air by her position, he used the additional leverage to begin pounding into her harder and faster. She buried her face in the cold hard floor thrashing her head from side to side as the pleasure rolled over her and seemed to consume her like a raging inferno.
She heard him roar as she felt his seed flood her, but still, he pounded deeper and deeper within her cunt as it leaked down her thighs to pool under her knees until each thrust sent her sliding a bit closer to the door. After a couple of moments, his thrusts slowed until they were more controlled though no less deep. She could feel his cock each time it brushed her cervix. The intensity bordered on pain, the pressure might have been more accurate.
Then his hand released her wrists; she felt both his finger and his thick cock slip from her body with an almost audible pop. She was unable to stop the whimper at the emptiness she felt with his withdrawal. “Turn around, Kirsten.”
Every muscle in her body screamed in protest. They had all turned to the slime that she used in sensory play with her children at work. She wanted to seep into the floor, collapse in a mass, and spread slowly across it. And he wanted her to turn around?
But the sharp slap across her still upturned bottom got her attention quick enough. “I said, ‘turn around.’ If I have to say it a third time, you will spend half the damned night standing in the corner,” he growled.
She turned around slowly, and he was leaning back. His cock was still at full attention. His face dark and unreadable, “Now you learn how to suck my cock,” he said.
Tara Cox - Literary Erotica 