6. The Expert
Chapter six
The Expert
OLI
W here was Loki? Had this been planned? Why no appearance of mocking and double-speak, of denying he wanted me for himself, as much as he clearly wanted absolution for his wrongs? Had I angered him so much by trying to push him, by trying to brush his hair aside and see him, that he’d doomed me?
My fear as Tyr approached made me attempt to scramble out of the water, but I stumbled upon the slick surface and thumped back down with a splash.
“Calm yourself, boy. I mean you no harm.” Tyr’s voice boomed as powerfully as Thor’s too and also seemed equally as jovial. For now.
“Great Tyr, I swear, I would never mock a man who’s lost his—”
“But a god who lost a limb is fair game?” Tyr chuckled, stopping at the edge of the hot spring to remove his undergarments with a tug at their ties.
He was half hard and sprang upward with a bounce.
Then he started to stroke himself. “I mean only to take my turn. Or do you have no interest in a god who doesn’t need you like the others? ”
It was admittedly distracting trying to converse while Tyr’s cock grew harder in his hand. His lone hand. But he had lost it well before Ragnarok, and it was clear he felt no infirmity in its absence, if he ever had. “No need of me, you say?”
“Oh, I need.” Tyr ceased his stroking and licked his fingers of his prerelease.
“But not like they do. I have been through all this before. Not as brutally brought about as the fighting during Ragnarok, but I know what it means to rise and fall as the most venerated of the gods.” He climbed into the hot spring to join me.
That was true. Some of the oldest stories implied Tyr was once worshipped more than Thor or Odin.
As he loomed over me, thick cock like an arrow aimed at my face, I saw his bracers, made of some unknown gleaming metal that he did not mind getting wet when he sank to his knees. They bore his rune, like its own arrowhead point.
“I know your words were more to mock my prowess in bed than the number of my limbs,” Tyr said. “I assure you, boy , I get along fine with one hand, but my prowess I will have to prove.”
“Please!” I flattened myself to the hot spring wall. “I am without Thor’s belt!”
Tyr was already straddling me, heavy but not crushing, and took my face in hand with what I hoped remained a tender touch. “I can be gentle. Until we get to using my stump , of course,” He kissed me fiercely, ending with a tug at my lower lip. “We’ll see if I am joking about that in due time.”
I prayed he was. Even Freyr wasn’t as large as a man’s forearm.
I tried to calm my thoughts, to enjoy Tyr’s lips and weight and eager hands— hand —trailing down my stomach beneath the water. The tease of his tongue circling my lips made me think of Thor’s circling my hole. These gods were hardly dull fucks, and I hadn’t failed to enjoy myself so far.
Why then did I miss Loki so much when I had a god who wanted me right here upon my thighs?
I thought I saw the wag of that black dog’s tail and tore my mouth from Tyr’s.
Nothing was there.
“Looking for someone else?”
“No! I… thought I saw a dog.”
That straightened Tyr’s spine, and he looked cautiously over his shoulder. “Better not be.”
Right. “You’re not exactly a fan of hounds,” I said. Considering one had eaten his hand—Fenrir—and another killed him during Ragnarok—the guardian of Hel, Garm.
“Hounds have their uses, but far from me. If you were looking for someone else, we’ll be joined in due time.” Tyr returned to crowding me against the hot spring wall and kissed my neck.
“We will?”
Was Loki going to watch without hiding for once?
Or was he going to truly join us?
Tyr settled between my legs and hoisted me closer to grind our cocks together. The slickness of doing so in water, and the heat rising up around us, made me feverish.
New footsteps approached, and I felt excitement again. Anticipation. Desire, spanning beyond the hot spring and the strong hand beneath my back holding me upright to hump my cock to hardness. As Tyr continued to kiss and suck my throat, I kept my eyes on the door.
And witnessed the appearance of a prominently bearded woman with kohled eyes, rosy cheeks, and shimmering lips.
Not Loki, but the imp hadn’t been wrong that Thor looked ravishing like this.
I didn’t know if he wore the same dress he’d used during his and Loki’s ruse against the Jotun, but it was one fit for a bride.
Long and layered, the fabric was a soft cream color that contrasted his tan skin, with ruffles and stitching in teal to match his eyes.
Cords dyed a burnt orange similar to his hair cinched his waist and wove around what was an amply hoisted bosom, not too difficult to create given the meatiness of his chest. His muscles bulged beneath the long sleeves, and though he hadn’t bothered to cover his face or beard with a veil, he did wear one, swept back, hanging over his hair from an intricately woven crown of branches and flowers with blooms in creamy white.
“Started without me, did you?” he asked, raising his voice to a feminine pitch.
“You had him already,” Tyr said.
Thor laughed and downed a horn of ale. He carried two. “To new experiences!” he toasted and downed the contents of the other one.
He watched us, even as he went to the ale vat to refill.
“I need a better view than in water, don’t I?” he complained and, with a wave of his hand, commanded the water to part, hovering it to either side of our bodies, like a sandbank between two ponds.
Tyr hefted me higher and tilted us in better view of Thor. I’d had the mighty god inside me already, but this made my heart race even more. Thor drank slower from his ale horn while he watched us, and I submitted to Tyr’s hold. To his friction. To our audience.
Did Loki know? Did he care? By Tyr’s admission, he didn’t need me, yet I was being taken by the god all the same.
“ Hey .” Thor dropped one of the horns and seized Tyr’s top fringe, yanking him off of me. “I don’t like that expression on him. Did you ask first or have him ask for you?”
“What—”
“Did you?”
Tyr struggled, while I shivered from the lack of body heat or water upon me. “He has bedded how many at Loki’s command—”
“ Did you ?”
Tyr gritted his teeth. “No.”
It was clear who was stronger by how Thor shook Tyr by that hold. He turned his kohled eye on me. “Do you want this brute? Or shall I drag him out by his roots?”
“I assumed—” Tyr tried, but Thor hushed him with another shake.
I had never been rescued from a fuck before. It wasn’t my place to be asked, to even think of saying no or stop, but that was what Thor offered as he held Tyr away from me.
I had been enjoying it, surprised as I’d been by Tyr and the appearance of Thor the bride. There was no Loki. Maybe not even watching. And I didn’t want to be left in the cold.
“I would know if you mean only to watch, dear lady ,” I said, “or join us.”
Thor chuckled and returned to his feminine lilt. “Would you prefer both, my lord, or me alone again? I can be a very dutiful bride.”
Who else remained after this other than Odin? If my time with the gods was to end soon, I might as well enjoy myself. And having Tyr and Thor together might ease my wounded pride. “I would let the great god Tyr prove his prowess like he wanted and have the goddess of thunder join us.”
Thor released Tyr, and Tyr reached back to swat at him. Thor laughed and retrieved his dropped horn.
“I am a brute,” Tyr said as he returned to me. “But no offense meant. I should have made certain of your desires, even if you did mock me first.”
“I apologized—”
“And I accept that apology. I also apologize.” Tyr cupped my cheek, gently this time, which alone made me shiver more than our previous grinding.
“I accept too,” I said.
Tyr trailed his fingers down my neck and chest. He didn’t need two hands to get me panting again, trailing his fingers lower and wrapping them around us both to pump us in time to his renewed grinding.
I felt a twinge in my back from pressing into the stone, unnoticeable until I’d had reprieve. Thor’s belt would have helped with that, but his eyes on us were a worthy distraction from the ache.
He refilled both horns, and then leaned over the hot spring’s edge to pour some from one into my mouth and some from the other into Tyr’s.
I licked my lips of its rich flavor, better than the dwarven ale, and made by Tyr himself, I assumed. “Your eyes on us are like lightning strikes,” I said.
“But you, Oli, are the raging storm. Few would talk about us let alone to us with such lashing of the tongue.”
Did he know what I’d cursed too? What had I said about Thor?
That he had no brains, all brawn.
He was definitely more than that.
Another gulp of ale later, Thor dropped his feet into the hot spring, more to the right than me and Tyr, where the water still hovered by magic. Then he lifted his dress and reached up beneath it to palm his plumping prick.
I had never seen a man stroke himself beneath skirts, his pink head with each pump peeking out from under the fabric. It made my cock jump in Tyr’s grasp.
“I always thought… Loki had to convince you to dress like that,” I said.
“We made a good show of it, but sometimes a man likes being painted up pretty.” He took some of his prerelease and smeared it across his lips.
I wondered if that was what had made them shiny to begin with.
“Why pretend I don’t enjoy this if I am to embrace the new?
” He stood, waded through the water with his skirt hiked, and dropped it when he reached us in the dry space.
“I like me as I was in the hall, moving within you. I like me this way too. And while a bride’s place isn’t only on the bottom, I think my place right now should be beneath you, so I might enjoy you within me . ”
I hadn’t envisioned how the three of us would be together, but the image of that made me buck up into Tyr’s leisurely strokes.