Viking Lust

Disclaimer and mild spoiler (skip italics if you want to enter the story fresh): If you are the type of person who doesn't enjoy stories that feature extramarital sex (that's fine), heads up that this one isn't for you!

A Surprise Visitor

The cottage looked wonderful in the early June light. Aline felt the heat of the afternoon sun on her face, tempered by a nice, cool breeze coming from the sea. Her husband Thomas waved at her as he headed down to the bay to fish for their supper.

They had been living on the island for nearly two years now, having moved there a few weeks after their honeymoon. They shared the island with about two dozen other families of various compositions. It was by no means a large isle, but it was big enough that everyone had a modicum of privacy. Their neighbours were good folk and, with the small islands surrounding their own, it was a nice little community a few hundred strong.

Aline and Thomas had a plan to build another cottage on their land so that Thomas' mother, Sylvie, could move in next to them from the city. Sylvie was a widow and had happily accepted the proposition when Aline and Thomas had revealed to her that they wanted to start trying for a baby. It helped that Sylvie was a fine woman and got along well with her daughter-in-law.

They needed some extra funds to buy the materials necessary for the new hut they were to build. With Thomas headed into town the next day, he would be able to earn enough bartering their goods in the city for a few weeks to buy the materials as well as provisions for winter, and to bring everything back to the island. The neighbours had already offered to pitch in to help build the foundation. With some weather luck, the second home would be ready by early winter before the heavy snowfalls.

Aline prepared an outdoor cooking fire while she awaited her husband's return from the waterside. He was a little later than she expected but she didn't mind; She took in the sunset and smiled thinking about what this would feel like a few years from now with a couple of kids running around.

A shout woke her from her daydream. It was Thomas.

He was coming up from the waterside. In his arms was no fish, but with a man who looked like he was near death. Thomas had the man's arm around his shoulder and held him tight around the waist to keep him upright.

"Aline! Put some water on the fire! I'll lay him down in the stable," said Thomas.

Aline shot a worried glance at the man her husband was carrying. It was clear by his appearance that he was a viking, and vikings meant trouble in these parts.

Part of the reasons they had chosen to live on this island was that it was remote and tricky to navigate to. It was not particularly wealthy or populated, which made it an unappealing target for pillagers who preferred the more bountiful shores to the South-West.

Aline looked beyond the two men to see if anyone else was at the shore, any other threat, but it was just Thomas and the man.

"Aline! The water, quickly! He won't make it past the night without our help."

Half an hour later, she was by her husband's side. They had disinfected, sutured, and bandaged a bad looking wound near the man's shoulder blade. He was feverish and came in and out of consciousness. At times, the man stiffened and cried out, and Thomas needed all of his strength to keep him immobilized to avoid ripping his stitches and bleeding out the little blood he had left.

Eventually, the man fell asleep.

"If he makes it past tonight, he'll have a chance," said Thomas. In that moment, Aline felt deep love for her husband. He was a kind man who probably hadn't thought twice about bringing a murderous barbarian into their home and to help him. Aline had lost an uncle to raiders, and had been raised with a clear distaste for vikings and their like.

"Maybe we should stop helping him," she told her husband.

"Don't joke like that... What if this was someone you knew? Would you let him die?" he said.

"But I don't know this man. He isn't like us, Thomas. Look at him. He's a viking. A murderer. Suppose we help him, he gets better... and then what? What if he is violent? What if he feigns friendliness, leaves, and then returns with his asshole viking friends and they kill everyone on our island for sport?!"

Aline could see in his expression that Thomas had not thought through this scenario. "Shit," he said, "...but still. Could we really do it? Look at him. He's a pussycat now. And even if he does get better, my father was a military man and trained me to fight, I used to take on men twice my size! I'll keep us safe. And in any case he'll see that we don't have much on this island other than fish, vegetables, and goats. I doubt that will get a bunch of vikings riled up about going to sea for weeks."

Thomas puffed up his chess and thumped it with bravado. "Come on you lollygaggers, let's get to that island, mutton and radishes await us!"

Aline wanted to stay fierce and angry, but she couldn't resist her husband's charm. They shared a laugh. Deep down she had known that this would be the result of the argument as she didn't think she could have let a man die, even if that man was an asshole viking.

Tending To The Sick

Five days later, Aline was waving goodbye to Thomas, who was sailing away to the city. If all went well, he would be back in three weeks with the materials for their new cottage and his mother in tow. Sylvie would stay with the neighbours who lived nearby to the North and had an extra little cottage for visitors until her place was ready. The same neighbours promised Thomas they would visit Aline regularly to make sure she was doing fine and that their patient wasn't causing any trouble.

The viking had survived his feverish night and still hung on to life, looking a little better each day. They had called on a wise-woman, Julianne, who lived on the next island. Julianne commended them for saving the man's life, adding that it would probably be weeks before he walked again, if he managed to survive his ordeal. She gave Aline some directions on treating the wound with herbs she could gather around the island and told her she would be back in a few days to check in on him.

The fact that the Viking would stay bedridden for weeks and that their neighbour had agreed to visit Aline were the only things that had convinced Thomas to go along with their plan. He had been somewhat reluctant to leave his wife in this situation.

Aline, a little bit more pragmatic at heart, had a surprising turnaround and overcame her initial hesitations about the man when it dawned upon her that the alternative was them losing a whole season's worth of sales and having to put off their family plans for another year. This trip was their only window to get the right materials before they had to winter, which restricted the possibilities of sailing over longer distances. No way was she going to compromise that for the sake of some viking. When he finally yielded to her will and made towards the boat, Aline jokingly began shooing her husband off the island, making a little of show of it to the great entertainment and laughter of neighbours who had gathered to see away others heading to the city with Thomas.

The mystery of the Viking and how he had ended up on their island had not been resolved, although everyone seemed to have a theory. He had washed up on a small raft in which there was nothing other than a fur. Whoever had marooned him had probably judged that his hours were limited and that he had a better chance at survival as a stowaway.

It hadn't helped that the Viking had not said a word in the common tongue, and only a few in his own, since his arrival. He still looked frail, but on occasion he would be fully conscious and aware. Julianne described this and his lowering fever as "good omens."

Once, when she had brought him some bread for breakfast, she was surprised to see him sitting up and taking in the morning light. When she handed him over the food, he had had the gall pull her in and grope one of her breasts, growling in appreciation at its size. She turned on him and slapped him across the cheek. He stared back at her looking nearly as shocked as she was, and looking guileless of all things! She could live with herself helping him survive, but she certainly wouldn't be some viking's plaything.

She took out her carving knife and glared at the man, "if you touch me again, you'll taste this blade! I assure it stings more than a slap."

The man didn't respond or react, but seemed to grow a little meeker, understanding the message. She left him to his thoughts.

A day later, the Viking's health took a turn for the worse. His fever returned and when she placed a hand against his forehead he pushed it downwards forcibly, saying something in his native tongue. Aline had her knife handy, but the man's grip was much weaker than it had been the previous day and it was easy for her to free herself.

"I can't understand you," she told him.

"Need... I need to..." he barely had the energy to talk.

"Oh great, now you speak the common tongue. Why didn't you do this from the start?"

Aline went quiet as she could tell he was using up all his energy. "I need to... sacrifice to Freya. Only... way to survive...need to give my seed..." he said.

"What are you saying? You're not making any sense!" Aline went quiet when she saw that he was trying to get her to look at something. He was pointing towards his legs.

She followed his finger and saw that he was not pointing to his legs but to his penis. His very erect penis.

A few thoughts flashed through her mind. The first was disgust at this fucking viking. Of course on the brink of death a viking would get horny. They were the worst. The second thought was, how in the world could this man get an erection when he was barely alive? It felt impossible, and such a waste of effort. The third was, what the heck did Freya have to do with this? She learned a thing or two about Northerner's beliefs as a youth and had recognized the name of the Goddess.

One thing to know about Aline and women of her kind in this specific time and place is that an erection was not a special or surprising sight. They were taught early about men and what they liked to do with their erections, and Aline had half a mind to take out her knife and relieve him of it. As her hand began inching towards the blade, Thomas' face materialized in her mind. He seemed reproachful and she scoffed at the invisible Thomas in front of her. "Fine, you win. I won't cut him," she said to the room.

When she turned towards the viking, she saw that he had fallen into a feverish sleep. Let Freya care for the man until help arrived, she thought. She cast one last, disbelieving look at his still erect member and left him to his fate.

The next day, Julianne the wise-woman arrived and Aline told her what had happened.

"What the hell kind of nonsense is he talking about?" asked Aline.

The older woman laughed. She was quite comely and well preserved, looking younger than her age. "You could well be right and this is some half-wits ruse to get a woman into the sack," offered Julianne, "But in some cases, people need strange cures when their life is on the line; It is a kind of psychosomatic need. Maybe it's a placebo. Maybe it's a miracle. It's hard to know."

Julianne grew thoughtful. "You know what people in my profession call the difference between a placebo and a miracle?" she asked.

"No," replied Aline.

"Semantics!" laughed the older woman, unaffected by the fact she was the only one laughing.

After a few moments, Julianne caught her breath. "In some cultures and tribes, an individual's spiritual fate is tied to a certain special behaviour. This could be consuming a ceremonial meal, some special music, a dance, psychoactive drugs, or, in some cases, a sexual act. The miracle of the human body is a story that could be told for countless millennia!" Julianne ended with a wise twinkle in her eye.

"But surely not!" Aline had a hard time taking in the older woman's perspective. "Call this what it is: lust! Tricks from a rotten viking!"

Julianne giggled her pretty laugh. "Well no doubt he is happier to be cared for by a pretty young wife with wide hips and a generous bosom!" she said cackling as she gave one of Aline's breasts an appraising squeeze. "As I thought, what a rack! You'd give a dead man an erection!" More cackling.

Aline blushed. "Stop it," she added meekly.

Julianne noticed Aline's pout and calmed a little. With sincerity she offered, "So, do you want my professional opinion?"

"Yes, I'd like that. What is happening with him?"

"In his case, I think he really is battling for his life. He might not make it." said Julianne.

Aline was surprised to find herself feeling sadness at the thought of the viking dying. She quickly reasoned it was because of all of the effort she and Thomas had put into saving his life.

"... but he has a chance," said Julianne, "I can see in his aura that this is not just a physical wound, but one tied to his fate as a man on this Earth. Whether the need to 'sacrifice to Freya' is his culture's means of treating this kind of illness, a personal belief, or something else, it seems to be what will help him survive." As she finished talking, Julianne nodded towards the man's groin. Although he was barely conscious and in a sweat, his erection created a small tent in the fur that was covering him.

"Well then, that's between him and Freya," said Aline, "because I certainly won't help him in his condition."

It wasn't that Aline was prudish, or even that extra-marital affairs were deal-breakers in their community. Some did that type of thing but it was usually kept discreet, and done for a variety of good reasons. A group from a nearby island were even openly polyamourous and raised a horde of children together. What people did between themselves as consenting adults was their business. Aline and Thomas were happily married and had wanted a monogamous relationship.

Julianne seemed to read her mind. "Don't worry my dear. I've seen many a male thus disposed in my day, and know a thing or two about treating this condition. I'll come back every few days to check on him, and if this treatment needs repetition, I can do it. Now then--"

Julianne was about to remove the fur from the Viking when Aline stopped her and excused herself from the stable. The older woman giggled again and waited for Aline to exit do to... whatever she was going to do.

Aline waited outside and, after a few moments, heard the door creak open.

When Aline saw Julianne, she was surprised to see that the older woman's bosom was bared. Despite her age, Julianne's large breasts still stood high on her chest and fit her frame quite nicely. The sight of her now would have made many a young man blush.

Julianne was wiping something wet off her breasts when she addressed Aline, "Well that's done!" Finished with her wipe, Julianne brought her top back into place, her movements practical, "this will need to be done again before five days have passed or else his condition will take a turn for the worst I believe."

Julianne peeked into the barn. "Sleeping like a baby now," she said, "I'll come over to the island every four days or so to check in on him and help him along. Before we know it, he'll be able to help himself! Although I bet he'll prefer being tended to!" she giggled.

A Hard Problem To Solve

The man's condition did seem to improve over the next few days. He now spoke some words with Aline and thankfully did not mention his condition or ask her to do anything uncouth.

On the fifth day, his fever rose and he began to fall in and out of consciousness. Julianne had not shown up the previous day as planned. Somewhat concerned, Aline nearly spilled out the whole spiritual-erection story to her visiting neighbour on his check-in but thought that it would sound too ridiculous.

She looked over the Viking as he moaned in his sleep, tossing and turning. Aline didn't know what to do and decided to leave him to his fate for the night.

The next day, the Viking was deathly pale and quiet. Aline thought he might be dead until she took his pulse and felt a faint heartbeat. She was relieved he was still alive. Unerringly, the man's member was rigid and pointed towards the heavens.

Aline went outside and searched the horizon for the small dinghy that Julianne usually used to travel between the islands. A couple days of tardiness was not completely unusual; sometimes things happened that meant that people had to come at a later date - that was the islander way. She wished the older woman was here now, as Julianne would probably know what to do to help the man.

His condition was simply beyond Aline's skill. She still did not believe Julianne's explanation that an ejaculation sacrifice to Freya was what could help him heal. In principle, all else was fine with him; Even his wound was doing great. And yet he still seemed on the verge of dying... could sexual relief really be the way to help him?

Not knowing what she should do, Aline went back inside the stable and sat by the man's cot. She realized that she did not want him to die, not after all the effort that had been put into saving him. And what if Julianne was right, what if part of this illness was a kind of spiritual turning point for the stranger? His chance at redemption? But what would Thomas think of her handling another man's penis? She knew her husband loved her, and he tended to have a stronger spiritual side than her in these types of matters.

He also seemed to have a schoolboy's crush on Julianne and take her words as gospel. More than once, Aline had caught Thomas giving the older woman an appreciative once-over, his greedy eyes lingering on her large breasts.

Men and breasts! Aline didn't understand it. In her opinion they were cumbersome more than anything. And heavy! Her own breasts were even larger than Julianne's and, as beautiful as the wise-woman was, Aline knew herself to be at least her equal. Aline did not like to dote on her appearance though, having a certain preference for functionality. She still made efforts for Thomas. Men, she thought, they can have a treasure in their hands and still want to go sailing past the next horizon.

The thought of Thomas goggling at Julianne's breasts was enough to help Aline make her decision. She would alleviate the man of his seed. If it didn't work and he died, no one would know of it. And if it did work, then all the better, and Julianne could continue the treatment when she returned.

Contemplating the tented fur, Aline slowly reached for it with her hand and began to peel it back. The man mumbled something in his slumber, but Aline ignored him. With resolve, she removed the fur quickly to get it over with and contemplate her task.

The act revealed the man's member. It stood proudly, pointed at the ceiling. Aline was still baffled by the fact a man's penis could be so energetic when the man himself seemed like he was dying. Julianne was right, the human body really was a vast mystery.

The penis itself seemed abnormally rigid, like a steel rod. She reflexively compared it to her husband's and knew the viking's to be longer, although it did not look like it as it was wider in girth. She chased the thought away, preferring not to mix images of this man's appendage with intimate thoughts about her husband.

She leaned in towards the penis and put a hand around it. It felt warm. Aline was not a petite woman, but her fingers were nonetheless incapable of wrapping all the way around the member, which stubbornly continued to point upwards.

Aline realized she didn't really have a plan. She decided to move up and down the shaft, as she had learned to do as a youth with a local boy she had liked. As she began the movement, she quickly found it to be a little awkward. She released the member, spat a large glob of spit into her palm, and returned to the task. She began getting into a rhythm. When she felt friction between her hand and the viking's penis, she would spit in her palm and return to the member. She could feel it throb in response to her gesture, but it seemed impossible to bring it to ejaculation.