Midsummer Fest Ch. 01

"Not quite yet, baby. We do have to eat a little something first." And with that he reached out into the center, plucked a fresh oyster off the ice and held it to her mouth. It was an interesting experience, that dinner. The women simply lay next to the men and ate whatever was brought to them. No one said a word. All communication was by body language and by touch and there was a lot of that. Love bites interrupted the bites of food and as the evening progressed they turned to kisses and licks. Keitha began to feel like warm butter, soft and starting to melt. Lying against the man was secure and safe but at the same time arousing. She could feel his reaction to her and at last reached back and pulled Mikko's head up next to hers.

"I think I've had plenty, Mikko," she whispered, "and your cock is distracting me terribly. Isn't it about time we made this engagement official?"

Without a word he rolled her onto her back and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was long and probing. His hands roamed over her body, caressing and stroking. He gave one nipple a twist and Keitha gasped.

"Oho," Freya whispered to Konrad, "she likes that. Can it be that we have acquired our own sub here?"

"I hope so. I do so much want to tie someone down and fuck them senseless while they protest."

"What are you talking about? You never suggested anything like that. You want to tie me up? Thorvald does all the time. Here, you can tie my hands with this scarf and I'll ride you reverse cowgirl. And don't forget to pull my hair."

Oblivious to the others, Keitha tangled her fingers into Mikko's hair and held his face to hers as her thighs fell open on their own. His weight pressed her into the quilt and she felt something blunt and slippery pushing against her sopping pussy. She lifted her hips and suddenly she was opened and entered. Mikko's manhood spread her vagina and put an end to her girlhood. She moaned and then gasped as he nudged her cervix and then began to slowly piston in and out. The rhythm was steady and relentless. Her moans became inarticulate whimpers and gasps.

"Breathe deep and slow," she heard him murmur in her ear, "and when you think you're close to climax, pant hard."

Soon afterward Keitha came with a howl, almost throwing Mikko off in the spasms of her passion, and then went limp, panting with effort.

"And now it's my turn," he growled. Tucking his elbows behind her knees he spread her wider yet and then pounded down into her until, with a groan, he shot his load into her and collapsed on top.

Keitha wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him tightly. "Oh, Mikko," she whispered, "I should have let you do me years ago. I love you so much."

He chuckled in response. "I want to love you so often but I have to rest and now it's Konrad's turn. Expect not only a good pounding but a good stretching, as well. He's big, especially where it counts. And then you'll have Thorvald and when he's done—I'll be back!"

Her eyes grew wide as she looked up and saw Konrad standing over her. Freya knelt at his feet stroking his rampant member, a wicked grin on her face. "Honey, I think you'll be more comfortable on all fours with this big boy. Knees and elbows, girl, that's the way. Okay, Kon, do her and let the sperm wars begin!"

Keitha knew in her heart there would be no more caresses or tenderness tonight, at least until it was over. For the rest of the night, the men would use her again and again, filling her with their cum and sending load after load of sperm racing into her womb.If I conceive tonight there won't be any way to know who the father is unless we have the baby tested. And I won't even bother. Let my child carry my name, Keithasbarn. She closed her eyes in anticipation but popped them wide open when Konrad's manhood filled her. He really was big, both thick and long. His fingers sank into the flesh over her hipbones while his pelvis swiveled and ground against her buttocks. With an appreciative moan she responded in kind, swinging her hips in a dance of her own—a dance to the joy of sex.

Freya wanted to watch. It would have been so hot, seeing her new fiancée' getting seriously fucked but Mikko distracted her. He spread her thighs wide and was industriously plying her pussy with his tongue and lips. It felt so good. He slipped two fingers inside her to stroke her G spot while he sucked and licked. Oh God! He's got me now. I'll start to cum and cum again until he's got me rolling. The last time he did me this way I couldn't go to work the next morning. "Mikko, please no, Mikko . . . Mikko!"

Helga grinned down at Thorvald. "Oh dude, she's such a great slut, isn't she? And it looks like Keitha is another one in training."

"Freya's a great slut?" Thorvald arched an eyebrow. "I guess it takes one to know one, wench. I am really looking forward to planting your field at the Fest, Helga. Nothing turns me on like watching a woman's belly swell with my baby, seeing the milk start to leak and knowing that I'm the one who did it. If you think I'm all over you now, you just wait. Woman, I'll be into you snatch or up your butt every night for the next nine months. And I'll probably have company. Pregnancy is our favorite fetish, you know."

"If I didn't know it when we first got married, I found out with Olaf! You turned out to be such a horndog. Then Konrad joined us and he was as bad as you and Mikko. We had to marry Freya so I could get some sleep while you fucked her brains out."

"And now we'll have Keitha to knock up. Hey, what are you doing?"

Helga leaned back and slipped a hand between her husband's thighs. "I'm playing with your ass, silly. Come on, stud; show me those multiple male orgasms before you go pumping Keitha full of baby magic."

*****

The next morning, Grandmother Ingmar found the three young women staring blearily at each other over coffee. "Don't tell me, let me guess. Keitha agreed to marry you and your guys and you had a little party to celebrate? And the party went on into the wee hours?"

Keitha blushed. "I did. We did. It did."

"And now my fully recovered granddaughter may just be on her way to making me a great-grandmother again. That's wonderful news. Who's the lucky father?"

Freya snorted. "The only possible answer to that, Founder Ingmar, is 'yes'."

"My goodness. All three of them? You entered womanhood with three men at once?"

"Not at the same time, Grandmother! I had them one after another—several times."

"Really? Can you walk?"

"Slowly. They were gentle with me—at least Mikko was—at least he was the first time. I think I'll have to tell them I'm not available for a day or so."

Her grandmother snorted. "Nonsense. Just because one orifice is out of order doesn't mean you have to go without sex. I have some meetings to attend this morning but after lunch I want you upstairs in my quarters. We are going to spend some instructional time with—oh, I'll find someone. One o'clock sharp, young lady. Your education is way behind and you have catching up to do before the wedding. When is it, by the way?"

All three grinned sheepishly. "Uh, we haven't gotten that far. Getting engaged was so exciting we completely forgot about planning for the wedding."

"Then let me suggest August 8th. A wedding for my intellectual granddaughter is just the thing to start the Mid-Summer Fest off. Everyone can join in on your wedding night that way, especially after your boat ride."

"Boat ride?" Keitha looked confused.

Freya spewed coffee all over the table while Helga shook her head in amazement. "Keitha, dearest, you reallymust get your nose out of a book once in a while. You're marrying Konrad. Doesn't that ring any bells?"

"Uh, no. Should it?"

Ingmar sat down at the table with them and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took a sip and favored Keitha with a wry expression.

"Granddaughter, in Konrad's clan all the men are watermen and boat wrights. They all build boats, play in boats, work in boats and I swear some of them will want to be buried in boats. That's nothing special here on the fjord but have you ever looked at Konrad's boat? Ever taken a ride in it?"

"Oh yes, our whole cohort of kids went on a long picnic over to Groen Island and a bunch of us sailed with Konrad. He'd just finished it and was eager to show it off."

"And did you notice anything unusual about it, especially at the bow? Did you see the step just above the waterline and the cleats on either side of the prow?"

By now Freya was holding her sides, shaking with silent laughter and Helga had her head in her hands.

"Uh, no. All right, just what's going on here? Have I gotten myself into something?"

Ingmar patted Keitha gently on the shoulder. "Yes, dear, you're marrying into Konrad's clan. That means once the ceremony is over, you will be stripped down and tied to the prow of his boat. You will be a figure head and paraded around the fjord so the man can show his new bride off to everyone, especially his clansmen."

"I'mwhat?"

Freya chimed in. "The bow wave will splash up over your legs and belly. It will be cold and you will squeal. Everyone will laugh and applaud and cheer Konrad on. When you get back to the dock, he will untie you, wrap you up in a big furry skin, throw you over his shoulder and take you off to warm you back up, really warm you back up. It's great fun. I told him next Midsummer fest he should do me again that way."

"Oh yeah!" Helga was enthusiastic. "In three more years I'll be having his baby and I'll tell him the same thing. Yeah, it's cold. And it's embarrassing. Yes, you get teased about it for days afterwards but—girl, we women run the clans. When we get to be grandmothers, we mostly run the colony. This is one of the few chances we get to sub for our men, be their sex slaves, get lovingly 'raped' and enjoy every minute of it. It's one of the reasons, one of thelesserones, that I agreed to marry Kon when Mikko and Thorvald suggested it. Having three husbands was tiring until Konrad brought Freya in, but all that man had to do to turn me on was whisper 'wanna go for a sail' and I'd be out of my clothes in a blink. Just the memory of that wedding makes me hot."

Ingmar looked off into the distance with a smile on her face. "I remember the first time the colony ever did it. My sister married into that clan and her fiancé was the first to suggest it. Initially she was horrified and offended. But after a night of thinking it over she went back to him, apologized for getting mad and agreed to the idea. A few years later your grandfather Rolf, after a lot of persuading, got me to say 'yes'. The rest of my pod manned the scull while he stood in the bow over me, bare-chested, and waving at everyone. Your mother was conceived that night, Keitha, so I can't say that it's a tradition I frown on. A few of the First Founders don't care for it but by the time the second generation reached adulthood, it was pretty well established and your generation's opinion is just like Helga's. If nothing else, you can be grateful August is hot."

Keitha did a perfect 'deer-in-the-headlights'. She took several deep breaths, trying to say something each time and failing. At least she squeaked, "Oh dear lord, what have I gotten myself into? At least you've given me fair warning. I'd rather find out what a spectacle I'm going to be now than after the ceremony. I suppose that means I shouldn't bother with anything under my wedding dress?"

"That's the spirit, girl!" Freya thumped the table, nearly upsetting everyone's coffee. "Now that you've gained enough weight to have it, flaunt it. Keep your back arched and your boobs pushed out; shake 'em and grind your hips. Let everyone know you are one hot number, ripe for the picking. The crowd loves that."

"Oh, gosh." Keitha shook her head.

"And remember, my quarters after lunch, young lady," Ingmar tried to look stern. "A happy husband is a docile husband, Keitha, and the best way to accomplish that is to keep them warm, well fed and thoroughly fucked. Men are really simple organisms, after all. It doesn't take much manage them."

*****

After dinner that night, Keitha sat out on the clan house porch sipping sweet dessert wine and watching the sun sparkle on the fjord. The hour with Grandmother had been very instructive and fortunately had consisted only of a collection of very realistic silicone models. That had been a relief. Nya Hem women were expected to be a lusty bunch but Keitha's hormone supplements had not readied her for a threesome with her own grandmother and some unidentified male.

But Ingmar had been right. Keitha's introspective nature coupled with the damage to her endocrine system two years ago had left her almost completely unaware of many things women her age took for granted. Who would have thought men got enjoyment out of rubbing their cocks against a woman's breasts or buttocks? Learning to swallow a dildo had taken some work but once she got the idea of straightening out her throat 'like a sword swallower' it had been much easier than she expected. Anal sex looked to be difficult but to her surprise, the idea appealed to Keitha. She could not figure out why but it did.I'll have to start out slow of course, and definitely not with Konrad, but I'm sure I can do that.

So immersed in her own thoughts was she that Mikko's whispered, "Hello, love," startled her.

"Oh, hi Mikko. I was—uh—wool-gathering, I guess. Want the chair? I could sit on your lap . . ."

It was no sooner said than done. And once she was perched on his thighs, Mikko pulled her close and tucked her head down onto his shoulder. He stroked her hair softly.

"I love you, Keitha."

"Mmmm, I loveyou, Mikko. And I love the others, too, of course, but you will always be my number one."

"Want me to show you how much I love you—again?"

"Mmmm, I'd love it but I'm still sore. How about if I showyou something?"

"Your place or mine, bride-to-be?"

Keitha slid off his lap and with a mischievous smile took his hand and pulled him to his feet. She tucked her arm into his and guided him inside, down the hall, up two flights and through the door of her bedroom. He tried to pull her in for a long, deep kiss but she dodged his hands and darted behind him.

"Now, you just hold still. I'm going to take all your clothes off and have fun with you. The only rule is, you don't get to touch me."

"Oh-kaayyyyy . . . May I ask who you've been talking to?"

"Grandma. She said the best way to manage men was to keep them happy so I'm learning how to do that—on you."

"Sounds good to me but I insist on mutual nekkiddity. I'll promise to keep my hands to myself but I want you naked, too."

"Mikko, if I take my clothes off, you won't be able to keep you hands to yourself. I know that much, at least."

"Darling, you underestimate me. Besides, if you are really that good at making me feel good, I won't need to grab you."

Keitha thought about that. Maybe managing men required compromise and negotiation sometimes. Grandmother hadn't said it didn't.

"All right. We'll both undress but then you turn around and bend over with your hands on the bed. I'll put this mirror against the wall so you can see me. Good enough?"

"Yeah!" Mikko kicked off his boots and undid his coverall. In a trice his pale, wiry, hard-muscled backside was in full view. Keitha bit her lower lip. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, she slowly stripped off her blouse and flowing skirt and wriggled out of her underclothing. Things were heating up and she wasn't sure how long she would stay in control. Cocking her head to one side, Keitha smiled and slowly ran her hands down the length of her body. It was still a good feeling to have flesh over her bones and to just barely see her ribs under newly rounded breasts. She raised her hands over her head and shimmied and then at once reached down and slapped Mikko as he started to stand up and turn around.

"Uh-uh, boy. I touch you, tonight, not the other way 'round."

Sauntering to her dresser she pulled open the top drawer and took out a box and a bottle. From the box she pulled a shiny purple glove and slowly, teasingly pushed her hand into it. Fastidiously she tucked the fingers down tight and then wiggled then at her fiancé in the mirror. Taking the bottle in her bare hand she popped open the top and squeezed clear gel onto her fingers. With a mischievous smile she spread his buttocks and began to spread the gel around his anus.

"Feel good, honey?"

His moaned reply made her chuckle. Keep them warm, well-fed and well-fucked and they're happy and easy to manage. That's got to be the most sexist thing Grandmother has ever said but I guess the men don't complain. Maybe there's something to it.

Squeezing more gel onto the gloved fingers she pressed the ball of the tips against his anus again and pushed inside. She rotated her wrist to spread it all around the inside and then pushed in to the second knuckle.Now, where's that hard—aha! Now I've got his prostate. We'll start with just a little tickle.

Mikko moaned louder. "Oh baby, I'll give you just two weeks to cut that out! Ahhh . . ."

Keitha reached around his thigh with her bare hand and took hold of his phallus. With just the fingertips she rubbed it up and down the length in time with the tickles inside him.

"Keitha, I'm not going to be able to hold on very long if you keep doing that."

"And what makes you think Iwant you to hold on for a long time? Maybe I'm looking forward to you squirting all over my hand, hmm?"

She laid her head on his back and rubbed her hard nipples against his thigh. By golly, he was just standing there taking all of this, completely in her power. What a fun idea this was. She upped the pace just a little and was rewarded with a louder moan. Mikko was breathing very deeply now and starting to tremble in the knees. She tickled and rubbed even faster and he began to pant and to whimper. Suddenly she felt his cock throb in her hand and she whisked the palm up to the helmet and caught the ejaculation. She kept massaging his gland until no more came out and Mikko sagged visibly.

"Wow, what a mess, Mikko. Well done, that stud, given that you shot into me twice last night, too."

The man collapsed on the bed. Feebly he looked up at her and arched an eyebrow. "Your grandmother taught you how to give prostate massages? No wonder your clan is notorious for being a bunch of scheming women. Her husbands must be putty in her hands."

"Well that is the general idea, you know. The happier we keep you the harder you try to keep us happy. Everybody wins." Keitha washed her hands in the sink. She had given just a thought to rubbing it all over herself but figured that would just enflame any other man who caught a whiff of sex from her. Then she turned out the lights and curling herself up next to his back pulled the coverlet over them.

*****

"What do you mean I can't get pregnant at the Mid-Summer Fest?" Keitha was shocked at Dr. Arikasdottir and more than a little angry.

"Easy, Keitha, there are two reasons why you won't be getting pregnant next week. The first is that we didn't have time to synchronize you with the others because I was too busy trying to get your hormones normalized. If I had been able to start in March instead of June, it would have been easy but getting you healthy was my first priority."

"And the second?" Keitha understood what the doctor was saying but she refused to like it.

"You already are."

"I—I am? Oh, my goodness. The guys will be tickled. I can see the high fives and beer mugs clinking already. Uh—no, there's no sense even asking. I've been getting laid so often by all three of them that there is no way of knowing which is the father until the genetic tests."