By the skin of her lips

She carried him up the stairs, which ran in a circle, to her bedroom at the top of the old Yrkai tower. He was still naked and a little chilly in her arms, but she didn’t seem to mind the cold. In fact, her breasts were warm and soft against him. The spiral staircase went on longer than he thought it would, until they came to a landing with a heavy wooden door. She popped the handle with hand and it swung open heavily, creaking. She carried him into the room and he looked around.

There was a large window through which the full moon shone. The room was circular, bathed in the deep blue light that seems to color everything when the moon is full. In the center of the room was a large wooden bed, round, and covered in thick luxurious furs that could have come from wolves or bears or mammoths for all he knew. She sat him down on the bed, which was so large he felt like a child being seated on an adult’s bed. The furs were soft against his nude skin. There seemed to be little else in the room, besides a chest and a fireplace. He shivered. His breath did not frost on the air, but it was still quite cold. Didn’t this bother her?

Martin looked up at Brunhilde. In the moonlight, her naked body shone brilliantly white; lit from one side, there was a stark contrast between her pale skin and the shadows cast by her arms and breasts. Her face was half lit, with one bright eye watching him mischievously and the other shrouded in an unknowable darkness.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said softly. Her voice was even and low and sent a shudder through him.

“We’re not like you southerners,” she said, “The Somai are accustomed to this climate. Cold simply does not hurt us the way it hurts you,” she stepped forward, hips moving left and right as she approached him.

“But don’t worry,” she continued, “Soon you won’t feel cold either.”

She stepped onto the bed, on her knees facing him. She was taller than him as it was. On her knees, with him sitting down, she towered over him in the moonlight. He looked hungrily at her hard nipples and felt his breathing quicken.

“Close your eyes, darling,” she said. He obeyed, and felt her mouth close over his. Gently, with a tenderness that she had not shown so far, her lips parted his and he felt her tongue slide between his teeth, claiming his mouth. Her mouth was so warm. He felt one strong hand behind his head like a pillow and another slide teasingly down his upper arm as she leaned into the kiss, slowly pressing him down until he was flat on his back. She lay on top of him, conquering him with her tongue. He submitted meekly and allowed her to do as she wished with his mouth. He was pressed into the bed, with her warm, soft body on top of him and the furs and down feather mattress beneath him. He was ensconced and firmly held in place, with her tongue penetrating his mouth and touching every inner surface, her hands exploring his body.

She withdrew for a moment, the sound of two wet surfaces parting loud as she broke the kiss.

“Wha-” he said, but she placed a finger to his mouth and shushed him like a child. Brunhilde took his face in both hands and raised it just an inch or two off the bed, kissed his forehead. Then she moved down and gave him another kiss, on the tip of his nose.

“Don’t talk, love,” she whispered, “Just close your eyes and allow me.”

Martin felt her lips graze his cheek and move to his neck. She put her tongue on the sensitive spot on his neck again. He moaned, gripping the fur blankets underneath him and twisting his body in sweet torment. She moved down a little further and bit one of his nipples. Taking it between her teeth, she pulled a bit, and Martin gasped, feeling his cock growing thicker and engorged. More hot kisses trailed down his abdomen, wet lips leaving little spots of saliva. By the time she approached his dick, it was already standing up.

Brunhilde cupped his balls with one hand and ran her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip. Her soft, teasing fingers tickled his taint and he felt his asshole contract at the unexpected stimulus. She wrapped her lips around the head of his dick and flicked her tongue over the frenulum. He moaned and the moan turned to a cry as she took his whole length in her mouth at once. Her chin was pressed into his balls and her nose was pressed into his belly. His hard prick twitched in her throat. He was gasping, light shallow breaths as she effortlessly deep-throated him. He made an almost painful sound as she withdrew, feeling her drag her wet lips along the length of his shaft. Then she started bobbing her head up and down. Her lips felt like a ring of wetness wrapped around his dick. He moaned again when she swirled her tongue around the sensitive underside of his cock.

Then she began to use her hands again, running them up and down his sides, moving from his hips up to his armpits and back again. She pinched his nipples as her lips and tongue skillfully worked his cock. Her hands moved down once again, and he felt one finger tickle his sensitive ball-sack, then move across his taint, downwards, until…

He gave a low, shaking moan as her finger grazed his asshole for the first time. After a moment, it slowly, gently pushed inside. He spread his legs to relieve the pressure and felt her finger slowly push past his sphincter. A little further, it touched something inside of him that made him squeak. Martin repeatedly bucked his hips, humping the finger pressing insistently at his prostate and the wet mouth gliding over his dick. A strangled groan that began deep in his throat became a long, loud moan. There was the familiar feeling of his cock stiffening and then he came. He ejaculated more than he ever had before, squirting wad after wad of cum into Brunhilde’s mouth. Her fingers skillfully milked his spasming prostate, wringing every last drop of seminal fluid from him. Martin’s knuckles were white from gripping the blankets so hard and his hands shook.

Brunhilde continued sucking after his orgasm. His hyper-sensitived glans twitched and throbbed as she tormented it with her tongue. He writhed in pleasant agony and she hand to pin him with both hands as she continued blowing his dick. Finally, she released him. She was still sucking as he came out of her mouth; the tip of his penis came away from her lips with a pop, and a thin line of saliva connected it to her mouth. He opened his eyes and saw her there, crouched at his thighs like a feral animal. She was smiling, and crawled up until her face was even with his.

He quickly found out that she had not swallowed his cum. When she kissed him again, he realized she had been holding it in her mouth, and was giving it back to him. Their tongues wrestled and he felt his own semen squishing back and forth between their mouths. Finally, she broke away and swallowed what she had left, as did he. Then they brushed their wet lips together, kissing passionately, spreading spit and cum over one another’s cheeks. Finally they stopped and looked at one another in the moonlight.

“Does that feel better, love?” she asked.

“Yes, Brunhilde,” said Martin. She kissed him once more on the cheek, then lay on her side. She pulled one of the fur blankets over them both. One big, strong, milky white thigh came over him, pulling him tight to her as her arm wrapped tenderly round his shoulders. He nuzzled between her breasts and sighed. She rubbed the middle of his back with one hand, then placed it on the back of his head, softly pressing his face into her boobs. They drifted off together, content.