Fuck the milf

"But I want to do you first."

Hilda smiled. "A wise choice. I am the one who remembers the old ways best." She strips naked and step into your arms. Her body is still fit, a result of the hard work she is doing, living in the vilage; you have met noble women and men half her age who are less fit than she is.

You deftly remove your clothes and lifts her, her legs locking around your waist with a strength that surprised you, and carried her to the wide straw mattress. "Eager, aren't you?"

"I was hoping to go second, after my daughter, knowing that she is not very much inexperienced. Who knows you want to do it with me first."

"Do you want to go second?"

"No, I'm already wet from anticipation," Hilda says as you lay her on the mattress. "Do it to me,"

Without much further ado, you enter her. She is incredibly tight, a testament to the time she had spent without any man. A sharp, guttural gasp escaped her lips, her head falling back as she accepted your dick stretching her pussy.

"Ah, gods," she groans, her fingers digging into the muscles of your shoulders. "It has been... it has been so long since a man of your strength has been within these walls."

The pace is not the frantic, **** scramble of the young; it is a slow, deliberate mating. You move with a rhythmic, bone-deep intensity, savoring the way her body reacts to your thrusting, her hips rising to meet every thrust with a practiced, hungry grace. The mating continues, the minutes blurring into a singular, pulsing loop of sensation. Eventually, everything reachesd the climax and you groan as you cum inside her, triggerd by her own climax.

Afterwards, the two of you lie there for a long time, the breath coming in jagged, exhausted bursts. The fire has settled into a bed of glowing coals, and the only sound is the wind whistling through the thatch above. Hildegard’s hand finds your hair, her fingers stroking the damp strands with a tenderness that carries the weight of what has just passed.

"Tell me, traveler," she murmurs, her voice steadying as her breathing slows. "Does it please you? Even though you carry yourself like a noble, you might have fathered a bastard in a commoner's womb. With a woman much older than yourself?"

You look at her, seeing the strength, the wantonness, and the fierce mother-wit that had kept this house standing. There is no shame in her question, only a raw, grounded curiosity.

"Yes," you reply, the truth of it ringing clear in the small room. "I like it more than I can say."

Hildega smiles, a slow, knowing expression. She leans in, kissing you with a lingering, salt-tinged heat. "Good. Because I believe you may succeed after all."