A Tiny Saga

Grant tried to engage Francis in conversation, but perhaps from nervousness Francis was unresponsive. It was all very awkward and at the end of the night, as they watched Francis return to his old Toyota, Grant turned to Sigrun, "Wow Ziggy. That man is a bit of a stuffed shirt. Better you than me." But Sigrun thought she knew better.

For tonight, Sigrun stood at her window impatiently waiting for Francis. With one child at Uni and the other two safely dispatched to friends for the night she would be safely alone with Francis.

Grant had been gone on business for a week and was not due back for another two. He was not so far away and Sigrun wondered why he had to stay away continuously for so long. But tonight, she didn't care, and it would be two further weeks she could plan to be with Francis. Anyway, in truth she and Grant had hardly said a civil word with one another since Francis came to dinner.

Grant, one night had uncharacteristically shouted at her, "if you can't talk to me normally, without reciting a litany of misdemeanors I have made over the past 20 years, then don't talk to me at all." They didn't even kiss goodbye when he went away.

Just standing there in anticipation of Francis arriving Sigrun was highly aroused. She felt her face flushed and she had a continual urge to manipulate her mons. Earlier that day she had caught it on the corner of the table and without thinking had found herself thrusting her cleft into its hardness, the abrasive effect from the dress she was wearing, and her panties heightened her arousal. It was when she was reaching orgasm that she realized what she was doing, and she abruptly stopped in a wave of shame. "Francis is making me depraved," she blurted aloud to herself.

Sigrun stared out into the gathering darkness. The streetlights came on startling her. She had prepared the house carefully with just the standard lamps giving a low yellow light to the room. She thought of music but could not think of anything appropriate.

She sniffed the perfume on her hand. Grant had bought her this, but she had never worn it. The fragrance she had rejected now seemed almost intoxicating. She shook her hair. Her shoulder length blonde hair was drawn back tightly. She thought of loosening it but did not want to look too tarty after all she was a respectable woman. She once had thick blonde hair to her waist. That was when she had first met Grant.

Finally, patience rewarded, the lights of Francis' white Toyota swept around the corner from the road up to the terrace housing area above. He parked in an area that used to be a carport close to the entrance of the house.

Grant had dismantled it, thinking it ugly when he built his shed.

Switching off the lights Francis got out of the car, all corduroys and sports jacket, his longish blonde hair flapping in the breeze. Sigrun was swiftly at the open door, striking a pose her hands behind her displaying her ample chest to the max. Sigrun knew her nipples would show through the blouse and cardigan. What better way to display her desire for the evening?

Francis, approached for a quick kiss on both cheeks, stepped back holding her hands at length he stared into her eyes then glanced down spying the offending pokies in her cardigan. "I see it is not only your smiling eyes that are pleased to see me." Then he bent down and gave each nipple a light kiss in turn.

Sigrun swept him through the open French doors from the hall into the living room. As she did so she caught a whiff of whisky breath as he passed. "How was Hazel's piano lesson?"

"She is coming along nicely. Unlike you she is just a beginner."

"I notice you had a drink. Would you like another or a cup of coffee?"

"Ha! Caught! Yes, I will have another. Do you have whisky?"

"As a matter of fact, we do. Grant has just bought in a batch of assorted whiskies. He hasn't normally been a whisky drinker before. He said he was getting a whisky club together with Hazel's husband and a few friends."

Sigrun opened the cocktail cabinet revealing the bottles. Francis spotted a bottle of Glenfiddich indicating that would do just fine. Sigrun took the bottle out and finding two glasses plonked them on the table.

"So, are you joining me Sigrun?"

"Huh, oh it's been a while but ja, why not."

"Enough? ... a little more?"

"Ja, ja..."

And so, the night began.

Sigrun cried "Skal!' and with one swift action swallowed the whole contents, astounding Francis.

He took up the challenge and with a "skal!" Followed her.

"I might have known a Viking woman would have a taste for spirits. What would you normally drink in Iceland?"

"Brennivan. I have some here somewhere. I haven't drunk it for years. I usually like it chilled."

There was a clinking of bottles as Sigrun manoeuvred a green bottle from behind the newly arrived whisky collection.

"Someone's been here before." Francis was noting it was about quarter gone.

"It will be my son, home from Uni."

"Let's give it a try."

That sat together on the large brown leather sofa and with a cry of skal another round was dispatched.

Sigrun settled back into the arm of her sofa staring into Francis eyes. The spirits were having an effect as she felt her rising warmth. Francis casually laid a hand on her leg. Sigrun thrilled to the touch purring, "We are not in the house of god tonight; you can do with me what you want."

Francis smiled, lifting his hand and making playing motions with his gorgeous fingers. He then leant across her to kiss her fully on the mouth. Sigrun responded with her tongue causing Francis to collapse onto her and soon they were in tight embrace. This led to some involuntary writhing in Francis' arms.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Huh, Nae, nae, would you like another drink?"

Sigrun stood up and taking the bottle poured themselves two more glasses. Giving Francis one she then straddled the now sitting Francis' lap hitching up her skirt as she did so. Then both raising their glasses, it was "Skal!" once again. She leant into Francis to give him an opened mouth kiss. As she did so Francis slowly entered her mouth with his tongue, and she felt him slowly search her mouth slipping backward and forward under her own tongue. Sigrun began to giggle and pulling away she arched her back lifting her skirt as she did so.

Francis' mouth dropped realising she had no panties and just stared open mouthed between her legs. Sigrun was fascinated with his reaction. She knew she was very, very wet and was probably showing wet.

Francis was apparently not about to do anything, so she took the initiative. Fiddling with the fly of his corduroys she managed the fly down and slipping her hand in she stretched down his red underpants and up popped his weapon of the day. The only other erect penis she had ever seen was her husband'Ss and this was so different. It had an oversized head for a start and reminded her of some alien being.

Sigrun grasped it in her hand her wedding and engagement ring glinting in the half light.

Francis glanced at her rings, "Do you care?"

Her reply was a coquettish" Naaae."

As she held his penis, he began undoing Sigrun's cardigan with some difficulty, so she pulled it awkwardly off her arms and cast it aside. She sat back a little. Her magnificent breasts straining the light floral blouse. She shook them side to side mesmerising Francis as his eyes locked on the sway. She took hold of his cock again with one hand and with the other reached into a pocket in her skirt to pull out a vial of lube.

"I see you come prepared." Mumbled Francis as he fumbled off her broach to get to the buttons of her blouse. He continued, "would you like me to put on a condom?"

"No not at all. I trust you completely."

In his lust addled mind Francis completely missed a grave issue. Sigrun wilfully wanted his baby. She knew she was in her fertile period. In her Machiavellian mind she would try her hardest tonight and engineer, in the next few days, any opportunity to have sex with Francis. At best it would lead to their marriage and at worst at least she would have his baby.

Francis perceived no danger as her magnificent breasts were unleashed. He took each in turns licking and sucking her distended nipples. The sight of her breasts was the most erotic in his life. As he moved from one to the other, he imagined them pressed around his penis. This was a must.

Sigrun twisted around and reaching for the bottle from the coffee table poured them another round. It was a quick skal and then she took up the vial of lube. She pressed some onto her hand. Erotically it was as though the vial was ejaculating as she received the contents and smeared it around Francis' dick.

Sigrun then lifted herself and her skirt, spreading her lips to massage the next shot into her vulva. Francis muttered staring at her red swollen clitoris and tabs, "You look so wet, are you sure you need that?"

"I Haven't had sex of any kind for many years so it will be tight, so be very, very gentle."

With that she lifted herself and settled her vagina gingerly onto the very large head of his cock. His cock was not huge, probably slightly smaller than Grants, but the head made the initial entry difficult. Sigrun winced but rubbing more lubricant it suddenly snapped in burying Francis' cock to the hilt.

Sigrun initially just sat there, Francis stared at her lips spread over his cock and their blonde pubic hair intertwined.

This was only the second cock that had ever entered what she considered her birth canal. She always thought of it that way rather than an instrument for intercourse. Buried in there, his penis felt no different than if it were Grants but once she began to lift and compress, its head made a difference.

Sigrun began to pick up speed. On top she was in control as she lifted, she thrusted, she ground. During a particularly vigorous spell she looked sideways at their reflection in the hall mirror through the open doors.

She wondered at the sight of her breasts rising, tossing compressing and jerking this way and that, her legs dangling as she thrusted her hips. Was that really her, impaled on this man's penis? This strange unnatural act of a man taking what is normally hidden and filling her vagina, in her house while her husband was not present.

The thrill of this premeditated and deceitful act made her heady and she abandoned herself to vigorously pumping this man without care until her flailing heavy breasts strained her shoulders and she had to ease back bringing her back to earth.

"Fuck me with your tits", Francis gasped between breaths.

"Huh, Fok me wot?" Sigrun grunted between gasps disapprovingly. An affair she may be having but Sigrun was strait laced about swearing.

"You know, slip down put that lube in your cleavage and get me off."

"Huh, oh Nae, nae, I'm not doing that."

"Just do it Sigrun!" Francis shouted.

"OK. OK I'll do it." Slipping down she did just that wrapping those maternal cushions around his re-smeared cock. He began a hard bruising thrusting into her breasts. On an erotic high she could only grunt and growl oblivious to the bruising until next day. She was pleasing him, and he was her. That was all she cared at the time.

Eventually He shouted "Stop! I don't want to come just yet. Let's get rid of our clothes and have another drink. They each removed their clothes to a pile on the floor. As Francis moved around, Sigrun stared fascinated as that strange alien appendage flapped about as though it had a mind of its own.

Francis sat back in the sofa, Sigrun now totally naked stood before him. "Come on Sigrun give me a show." Sigrun did a sort of ballet dance lifting her leg and pirouetting. "Turn around. Your arse is perfect. I love booty." Sigrun smiled at the compliment. "Bend over, that's right, now down, doggy fashion. That's it, now legs apart." This went on and Francis fixated on her breasts as they lolled this way and that. Finally, he patted the seat beside him motioning for her to sit down. Aware of his eyes on her breasts she gave them a shimmy and returned to the sofa.

Once seated side by side Sigrun poured them both drinks then it was "Skal!" and back to business.

Francis stood up and mover around the sofa. He began lightly massaging Sigrun's neck and shoulders. Caressing her ears and nuzzling her as he went. Francis was equally a virtuoso massaging with his long supple fingers and palms finding Sigrun's sensitive spots.

She turned and lay face down as he returned to the front of the sofa and began working her entire back and buttocks. He managed to get enough lube out to do the job. Parting her legs, he worked her inner thighs reaching her vulva. There she needed no lubricant and in her purple haze she let him play as he liked. Again, he was the virtuoso as he gently manipulated and played her most private of private parts, entering her but always slow and gentle.

When he thought it time, he motioned her to turn over and around.

Francis rolled onto the floor until he was on his knees in front of Sigrun. He pushed her legs apart as she slumped back into the leather sofa exposing her wet matted mound.

He began massaging and caressing her thighs working his way up between her legs. He lifted himself kissing her tenderly, his penis dangling lightly onto her. He caressed her neck and throat and down onto her breasts. He gently massaged them interspersing kissing with massage.

He massaged her arms from her breasts to her fingers then he returned to her breasts concentrating on those rigid nipples. He continued to her navel and onto her mons. Parting her pubic hair, he found her clit which exposed was projecting above her lips. He sucked and played with meaty folded tabs which were now engorged and bright red.

Her red, pink vulva was wide and glistening with her juice. He lapped at it extending his long tongue into her dilated vagina. He tasted her juice. It was different from his other women but not unpleasant with a distinctive slightly bitter umami flavour. He thought of the Scandinavian penchant for herring and cod and fancied her as an exotic dish.

He lifted himself and with two fingers gently entered what she referred to as her birth canal. He gently hooked under her pubic bone and began to lightly massage her vagina walls there. There was a gasp. Sigrun lurched and then began to thrust and writhe. Her head swinging from side to side. He had found her sweet spot. She recoiled slightly, being too sensitive. Her hands found her mons in an involuntary movement.

He sat back a little and eased her legs aside until they were spread at an almost impossible angle, He raised himself. Sigrun was transfixed on that alien being between his legs as he guided it down to connect with her.

She became conscious that his testicles seemed so large, and they hung and swayed as he approached her. They seemed much larger than Grants and she felt some smug satisfaction in this. Soon this sperm factory will be discharging deep into her body. Thousands of sperm to search out her eggs.

His cockhead nudged her vulva. He rubbed it up and down, then across her urethra and under her clitoral hood, backwards and forwards collecting her juice as he popped it easily into her vagina. He felt her wince as he passed through but without hesitating, he began to thrust picking up power and speed.

Sigrun pushed at his chest; she wanted to see him pumping her. She parted her pubic hair and outer lips to watch that strange appendage effortlessly sliding in and out her body. The folds of her vulva writhed and squirmed to the rhythm of his thrusting.

She had never done this with Grant. Intercourse with him was a furtive affair. By her choice I might add, not his.

Francis leaned down and started kissing her, but their heavy breathing and gasping stopped that. Francis began interspersing his thrusts with grinding. He began a rhythmic moaning. Sigrun began to writhe and meet his thrusts with her own. Intense but visceral feelings began to emanate from deep in her groin, radiating to her breasts. Sigrun responded frantically manipulating them.

She cried out and began to scream. She had never done this before, In the background she could hear Francis encouraging her, "Let it out darling, go on let it out darling." The word "Darling "was a trigger that sent her over the top. Her back arched and her stomach muscles began to spasm; her vagina began clamping which in turn sent Francis over the top. He pressed down on her pushing her heavily into the sofa. With final forceful thrusts he discharged inside of her.

This large momentous act of procreation was hidden form her view but a picture in her mind had his sperm assaulting her cervix, battering at the gates of her womb, demanding her eggs.

They relaxed and she felt his appendage shrinking, slipping out followed by a blob of sperm. She looked down and parting her lips, stared at the sperm. Francis picked some of it up on his finger. He picked up Sigrun's hand and smeared it on her rings. He then lifted her hand to his mouth and licked it off.

Sigrun whispered, "Do it again." This time she licked it off her rings herself. As she did so she realized that Francis had a small handycam out and was recording it. Sigrun pushed him back, "Don't you dare!" But she was giggling as though it was all in fun. At this point she did not understand the seriousness of it.

"Where were you hiding that?"

"I always come prepared."

Sigrun let it slide; for now.

They settled back into the sofa and continued to drink and chat. They got to a point where both could hardly stand. Francis stood up and wobbled, taking out a packet of cigarettes and was attempting light one.

Sigrun hated smoking and was trying to tell him not to. His only reply was "Oh fuck off," and persisted. When she wouldn't shut up, he finally slurred, "I gotta go home."

With that Sigrun panicked. She didn't want him to go. And implored him stay.

"Well, I want another fuck, take me upstairs and fuck me."

This wasn't quite in the romantic script, but she thought he might sober up a bit if she let him." Ok, let's go."

"Lead on, Sigrunnn.."

Sigrun gathered her clothes and made her way to the bedroom. Francis was likewise following her.

They got to the bedroom and Francis put his clothes on the bed. He then violently pushed her.

Sigrun was taken by complete surprise. This was a totally different side to Francis and one she never imagined would exist.

He pinned her back on the bed and began to suck her tits harshly, moving around and leaving red marks. He slapped her tits then flipped her over. "Get on your knees, I want you, doggy style." Sigrun robotically complied. She still wanted to please him and to an extent was still trusting him.

He leant down and started licking and tonging her vagina. Her juices came flooding back as she began to relax. He licked her arse she half-heartedly tried to push him away, but a pleasurable sensation overcame her resolve. He entered her vagina with his fingers but as he did, he pressed his thumb into her arse. Those same pleasurable feelings were heightened, and she could not bring herself to object.

He mounted her and began to thrust into her vagina. He was slamming with such force he was pushing her forward and she had to hang on to the bedclothes. He pushed her down so that her legs splayed, and he began to grind. Just when she thought it might be all over, he dragged a pillow over, pushed it under her and began to thrust gain. This time he jammed his thumb into her arse with such force she cried out. He continued to thrust, and she felt his thumb moving about against his cock. Her pleasure returned once again, and she began to relax.

Suddenly he lifted out and forcefully penetrated her arse with his cock and began to thrust her roughly. She screamed as he did so and tried to squirm out. He shouted at her, he swore, called her a slut and a whore.