Chapter 8
Avery
I never stood a chance against three enormous Vikings.
Because now, they’re removing their fur cloaks, loincloths, and armor.
Ivar removes his first, piece by piece, revealing a body that looks like it was carved from a fantasy, then scarred to perfection.
His muscles are hard and bulging, but defined.
Broad chest. Ridged abs. Where I’m from guys want to have six-packs, but he’s got eight.
Maybe that’s why these Vikings are so damn tall.
The plated armor on his legs is peeled away, then he starts to lower his pants, and I can’t look away.
This time, it isn’t involuntary arousal that mixes with the saliva still coating my pussy.
Coarse blond pubic hair is revealed first, then the root of his cock appears, and I quickly realize there’s something else that makes them different from Earth men.
“Whoa,” I say, my eyes getting wide.
“You haven’t even seen the entire thing yet,” Ivar chuckles, lowering his pants a little more.
The root is thick, but there are slightly raised ridges that run along each side.
The tip of each one has a purplish tint that blends with the flesh.
My eyes widen even more when he’s still going after several inches.
A light gasp escapes my lips when I see the large, round head.
The ridges form a circle around it where they come together.
“They’re a little different where I’m from,” I say, my hand moving to my mouth. “More veins, less… um, ribbed.”
“Well, I assure you that Fenrir’s Mark will bring you nothing but pleasure,” he says, moving toward the bed, his dick hardening as he does.
I’m stuck between wanting to stare at Ivar’s cock, and at Erik, as he removes his armor with less patience than his brother. His body is slimmer and less muscular, but there are more scars. I’m sure each of them has a story, but there are so many, he might not remember them all.
Red hair trails down his chest, leading my eyes lower, as he lets his armor drop to the floor, the blue metal clanging against the hardwood. I glance back at Ivar’s fully engorged cock, already imagining it inside me, then I see Erik’s.
It’s not as thick, but it’s longer, the ridges running along the bottom, instead of the sides, curving into a blunt tip on the head of his cock. They’re redder, almost the color of his hair.
“By Freya’s kiss, she’s already dripping again,” Sigurd grunts, tearing at his armor. “I can smell it. Erik, you said these humans have three places they can be fucked, right? Just like the women from our world?”
Sigurd tosses his armor on the couch behind him, then pulls off his shirt. He’s so broad he could probably snap me in half without even trying. Thick, strong muscles that aren’t as defined as his brothers. Every inch of him screams raw power, and I don’t think his scars slowed him down.
“That’s what you paid attention to?” Erik sighs, shaking his head. “One at a time, brother. She’s a maiden, and not one from our world.”
“Fine, we’ll have her one at a time,” Sigurd says grudgingly, tearing off his plate armor and shoving his pants down. “Then we’ll all have her at the same time.”
My pussy clenches in response, or maybe it’s because I see his cock.
Bigger and longer than both of his brothers, and he’s already erect.
He looks painfully hard, the tightness in his skin making the large oval ridges that adorn his cock in a chaotic pattern throb with each movement.
The tips are a different shade of red than Erik’s, and not quite as purple as Ivar’s. They’re a shade of crimson.
“You’re really going to have to be careful with those things,” I say nervously as Ivar gets on the bed. “I don’t know if my body… if I can handle them.”
“I’ll be gentle with you, mate,” Ivar murmurs. “My brothers may not, but I won’t rush since you’re a maiden.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, forcing myself to look away from Sigurd’s cock, hearing him mumble something about pounding me into the mattress while I scream before I get trapped in Ivar’s icy-blue gaze, the ice seeming to thaw into warmth. “I… I trust you.”
I don’t know why I do, but it feels like there’s some sort of bond between us now. Or maybe I’ve just had so many orgasms I can’t remember what it feels like not to trust him.
He reaches out, cupping my chin, then his hand slides to the back of my neck.
He pulls me closer, crushing my lips as his tongue invades my mouth.
I don’t resist. I don’t want to resist. I’ve been kissed before, but never like this.
He explores my mouth, and I taste myself on him.
Honey, sweet honey. It’s like I’m tasting what he tastes.
He gently lowers me back to the mattress, still kissing me, and I instinctively spread my splayed legs, my hips moving like I’m seeking out his cock.
He doesn’t wait to give me what I’m begging for.
His other hand grabs the base and he rubs the ridged head against my entrance.
I’m so wet from arousal and saliva there’s barely any resistance when he pushes in, despite his girth.
“Mm,” I groan into his mouth, then I feel my hymen tear, but it doesn’t really hurt. Just an ache that makes me whimper before I gasp when he pulls back and gently slides into me again.
His lips pull away, hands caressing my breasts, turning my nipples into pebbles.
“You already feel good,” he murmurs, the ridges flexing against me and my walls flutter, pulling a little more of him in. “By Thor’s hammer, now you feel even better.”
“Damn it, Ivar, you’re making this even more difficult,” Sigurd complains.
“It’s worth the wait, brother,” Ivar says, groaning as he slides a little deeper, my walls reacting to his ridges like my body knows how to handle them, even if they still somewhat terrify me. “Trust me. It’s worth everything we’ve been through.”
“Careful,” I whimper when he brushes against my g-spot.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
“No, you just almost made me come,” I whine, feeling my walls spasm on his length. “Oh, that was a small one.”
I’m not as spent as I thought I was. Or I’m just so overstimulated they can make me come with barely a touch. Ivar lets out a sigh, then he sinks deeper, and I feel his balls against my folds. He moves, just enough to test the friction and I immediately orgasm.
“Fuck!” I cry out, my body convulsing as it rolls through me, every pulse from my core making Ivar groan.
“The women from our world used to say it was a waste of time if their warrior couldn’t last a full hour,” Ivar chuckles, testing the friction again while I come. “You may not make it an hour.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” I mewl, moving my hips to create more fiction while he gently pulls back, then plunges into me. “Oh, god!”
His thrusts feel amazing. Each one of them is slow, but deliberate.
My body adjusts so quickly I hardly feel like a virgin.
Most of my friends didn’t really enjoy their first time, but I’m certainly enjoying mine.
Every movement of his hips. The way he goes deep inside me, torturing my g-spot every single time.
“Okay, now that I’m not orgasming over and over, a full hour of this wouldn’t be so bad,” I whimper, feeling like I’m floating on a wave of pleasure that gently crests and recedes. Over and over. “It feels so, so good.”
The gentle motions continue, sweat beading my skin, my gaze never leaving Ivar’s blue eyes.
I feel like I’m trapped in them. Trapped in this moment with him.
Every movement seems to bring us closer together, but not just physically.
This connection feels like it’s woven into my soul, and for a moment, I wonder if there really could be some sort of destiny or fate that has brought me to them.
The others say things in the background, but I’m deaf to them. I’m Ivar’s right now. As long as he’ll have me. As long as he’ll keep injecting this beautiful euphoria into my veins. Could there be anything on Utopia 64 like this? I can’t even imagine anything better than this.
“You know you’re our mate, don’t you?” Ivar murmurs, still moving his hips, his hard length throbbing against my g-spot.
“I know that right now… right now, I’m yours,” I say, gasping as I feel another orgasm building. “And you’re about to make me come.”
“Yes, mate. I can feel it,” he says, delivering some quicker thrusts that send me over the edge.
“Ivar, oh, fuck!” I cry out.
An orgasm from their tongue is nothing like having one with a big, thick ridged cock inside me. I clench on it, feeling every single ridge as I orgasm. The ones on the head seem to throb in unison with each of my flutters, and then he starts moving faster, forcing me to come again.
“You feel too good for me to hold back, mate,” he says, his thrusts becoming slightly erratic as he drives them into me. “Too fucking good.”
“Don’t hold back,” I urge.
Quick thrusts slam into me, then I feel him throb, and he roars like the savage he is as he fills me with his seed. My body quivers until I’m coming again, my walls milking him until he’s completely spent.
I feel spent too. But I’ve still got two more mates that are just as hungry as Ivar was. I force myself to look away from him as he begins to pull out of me. It aches, but only for a moment, and the emptiness feels worse.
I won’t be empty for long. Ivar gets up from the bed and Erik crawls toward me, the eagerness clear in his emerald eyes. He moves between my legs, already holding his cock. No kiss. No words. He just lines up his dick and pushes it into me.
“Oh, wow, you feel good too,” I whimper, my mouth opening into a wide O as I feel how deep he goes.
“I’ll be much quicker than my brother was,” Erik smirks. “I don’t think Sigurd can wait as long as I’d like to be inside you.”
He fits me just as well as his brother, his ridges teasing different spots, his cock already twitching like he could erupt at any second.