This story is dedicated to Kaylin. May she find it in her heart to trust and love again for she is a true soul and a divine being. May she find it in her heart to excuse a crazy American for flights of fancy.
I woke up and excitedly checked my profile for messages. Well, for a specific message. A message from him. A message from CyberViking, from Isbjorn.
I had recently started trying to expand my sexual horizons on a website called Lush Stories. There was a vast world of desires and fantasies online. I was still a romantic at heart, though.
Online I was less shy and less vulnerable. It had been a year since my relationship ended. I had spent two years with the one and only person I had ever been with. Then at eighteen, I was single. Nineteen now, I was ready to try again. Well, at least from the safety of online.
“Good Morning, Darling; been thinking about you all night,” Isbjorn’s message read. I felt my heart skip a beat. He had beat me to sending a morning message. It was a little unspoken game we played, one I relished losing.
We had started chatting recently, and something just clicked. He was either very smooth, or he just got me. He was much older, though. A part of me really liked that. Older meant established, mature, and he knew what he wanted.
I am young but not naive. He could just like flirting with me because I am fresh and young. Yet something told me that I completed something missing in his life like he was doing for me in mine. In the last two weeks, we have talked a lot. It seemed like he was always available when he was online.
I had my worries, though. I knew his name; he knew mine. That was it. Everything else was unsubstantiated. It was those little nothings, though, that felt like everything. I yearned for his voice and touch to know that he was real. To know that this butterfly feeling was real, to see my desires reflected in his eyes.
I felt myself starting to heat up as I pictured us actually meeting. This was not the first time I had had this fantasy in the last week. The only problem was that we had rules. Number one, no naughty pictures; my rule. Number two, no drama and online-only; his rule. His rule made me question his intentions, though. Then I would feel guilty. Number three, more than sexting or cybering, I needed romance and to feel more than someone’s online sex toy. Again, the latter was my rule, but he seemed to like it.
Too many guys online only wanted to cyber, that and the constant requests for access to my private pictures folder and nudes. I didn’t have nudes, not even in my private folder. Men were stupid, though, and didn’t believe me when I told them. Then followed disappointment and inevitably requests for nudes when I did let someone inside my guarded space. Jerks! Jerks got deleted and blocked. Isbjorn had yet to become a jerk yet, and my faith in the male species may not have been in vain.
“Good morning, Handsome,” I typed out in reply.
Then added, “How was your night?” I wonder if it was as good as mine, I thought. Then I remembered the dream of our meeting.
I was alone on a pier, waiting. None of the other wives were waiting yet. I was always the first to out on the docks awaiting the ship’s return. I was also the last one to leave. Perhaps the other wives did not love their husbands as much as I loved mine. I knew it was a dream, and I was sleeping, but the idea of having a husband and being loved filled my dream with happiness and contentment.
Then over the horizon, I saw a ship’s sail. I watched eagerly, waiting for the sound to catch up with my sight. Then I heard it—the rhythmic beating of a drum and the chanting reply of the oarsmen. My heart swelled.
Behind me, there was a call for “ship!” The call was taken up by one and then another voice. Soon the call rang out across the town. Women and men flooded the docks, jostling each other. I looked around to see shore partners eye each other—some with guilt, others with envy. I had never been one of those to allow others into my bed.
I knew Isbjorn; my husband also waited for me. Other Vikings did not restrain themselves. Others took women and men while out. Isbjorn had told me that he did not, and I believed him. Every time he came home, he took me to bed right away. Every time he filled me, it was as if for the first time. Every time he filled me, I knew he had been telling the truth. I had to admit I felt superior to most of the others on the pier; I had love.
I started to blush at my computer seat. This was the point my dream turned from just fulfilling and love to heated lust and desire. I had had the dream before, one other time. That time, like this morning, I had woke with a burning desire to be sated.
I messaged Isbjorn, “I dreamed about you last night.” I leaned back and waited for his reply. I replayed the dream, picking up from where I had left off.
The boat came closer, and I could see Ishborn standing at the ship’s bow. He always looked out over the water, searching for me amongst everyone else. I resisted the urge to wave frantically. I loved it when he searched, and our eyes finally locked.
He found me, and I felt our souls connect. The was a feeling of uniqueness, like a key in a lock. Only he, my key, could open my heart. His smile broadened, and my knees quivered. Damn, man, did that to me every time! I secretly loved it.
The boat came closer, and Isbjorn launched from the brow. He landed on the pier as people jumped back to make room. I gave in to desire and rushed to him. His arms enveloped me. I was scooped up in his grip like a house bear hugging someone. His hand’s on my hips, he lifted me to him, and our lips met.
Explosions like the aura Borealis filled me. Desire beyond comprehension consumed me. If Isbjorn had taken me there on the docks, I would have opened to him and welcomed him. The thought shook me out of my reminiscence. I realized that as shy as I am if this was more than a dream and he decided to take me right there in front of the world, I would not be able to stop him. I was not even sure I would want to stop him. The rest of the world would melt away anyway. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, eager to be back with Isbjorn, back inside my fantasy.
My fingers slide beneath the hem of my pink pajamas. My left hand gripped my breast, firm and perky. I did not have huge breasts, but I was happy with them. I knew Isbjorn would be too. He had never seen me nude, only one man had, but I knew from what he had said that he loved the modest pictures he had seen. I wondered if he wanted more.
“Of course he does; he is a man!” I thought. No, he wouldn’t, would he? I liked to believe the anticipation and desires in him were building. I knew he loved some of the mystery. Fuck, I wanted him inside me. Inside me in every single way.
I closed my eyes, smiling. He, Isbjorn the Viking, kissed me eagerly and with savage need. I returned his kiss. The noise and cacophony of the docks melted away. Finally, it was just the two of us.
“ISBJORN! YOU BLOCKHEADED, WOOL BRAINED AXE HANDLER,” another Vikingr yelled. Isbjorn set me down, and with a wink, he turned to the ship. Just in time, he caught a line the man tossed him. Isbjorn’s muscles strained with masculine beauty as he heaved on the line and pulled the ship closer. His arms moved in a blur as he worked the mooring line like a snake charmer. Finally, the boat was tied to a mooring cleat, and Isbjorn was coming back to me.
Again he scooped me up, like melted butter in his hands. His kiss ignited a fire within me. He carried me off the docks ignoring the call of his shipmates. Our home was close, thank the Gods.
His foot kicked the door open, and he moved us to the bed. Our kisses had not stopped the entire way home. Our hands had roved each other’s bodies frantically. I knew I was his only. His lust had built up to a breaking point while he was away, restrained only by love. Yet love was the strongest thing in the world, when true.
I felt the silk-like fur on my bareback. My fingers trace His muscles. Where did our clothes go? Oh, the power of dreams. I opened to him and our eyes locked. My fingers entered me as his cock did in my daydream.
I moaned out just as I had in the dream. His stare intensified, the world spinning with feelings of desire. He started slowly as if working himself into me and getting me used to his girth and size. I added a second finger and felt my body squeeze them. He moved faster, his pace increasing with my moans.
I knew this would not last long; it had not been in the dream. He had been away so long. My left hand pulled and twisted on my nipples. My moans echoed softly against the walls. He buried himself in me. My body rocked among the furs. I was warm beneath him, melted butter. He was an inferno on top of me. I opened further for him, and he pushed deeper. I knew he wouldn’t last much longer. I also knew from the dream our second lovemaking session would be filled with much more lovemaking. This aching need had to be satisfied first.
My fingers raced and beat the same rhythm the ship’s oar-master had beat. Electrical waves were flooding my body. Moans deepened. I began to murmur soft noises and yes’s. Isbjorn’s lips found mine, and the surprising kiss sent me over the edge. My body squeezed against him, and he followed me over the edge. Our climaxes were building on one another. He didn’t stop, and I couldn’t either. I could feel my cum leaking out and loved it. Isbjorn held me and rocked back and forth. Every bit of his seed filled me, and we were sated together simultaneously.
Isbjorn collapsed next to me, and I rolled half onto him. Our eyes met, locked, and souls connected. His smile of happiness filled me. I blushed.
I breathed hard as I laid back in the chair. My fingers ached. I was sated sexually, but there was an emptiness still. I needed Isbjorn for real. I wanted him so bad. A dream of him would no longer suffice.
I looked at the computer screen. I had received another message while I had been reminiscing. I clicked the new message eagerly.
“My night was long and desolate without you in it ;)” his response read.
“Flirt!” I thought but felt another beat skip.
“I had a dream we met last night,” his follow-on message read. I flushed.
“Wow! I feel, so connected to you somehow,” I said, smiling. Uhhg this man had a way of making me smile unconsciously, like some mad woman. Was it possible to fall in love with a stranger online?
“Me too,” he said in reply.
“What was your dream?” I asked excitedly.
“lol,” he replied, and then another message followed, “well, it was a bit naughty. I guess I have been thinking about you a lot.”
“Same. Tell me about it, the dream,” I requested. I waited for what felt like an eternity for his reply.
“Well, I have a confession,” the beginning of his reply read. Oh no, here it comes! I resolved myself to read on.
“I know what city you live in based on your profile. I have been nonstop thinking about you cause I am going there for business. I’ll be there for a few days for a conference. My dreams were insane fantasies about meeting you in person. But, I know, we have rules; it was just a dream.”
I felt eager all over again. He was going to be in town! I was already thinking of all the places I could show him. Then I stopped. Rules.
“Yea, it is a wonderful idea,” I typed melancholic.
“It is thrilling knowing we will be in the same city. Maybe miles apart. Messaging. Two strangers a world apart but so close,” He said.
He had no idea. A wild idea ran through my head. If I knew the hotel, I could get a peek at him, well, possibly. He could recognize me, too, though. My body ached to be filled by more than my fingers. I did not want anybody else, though.
“That is so romantic. What hotel?” I asked curiously.
“Details, Darling,” He replied.
“I know,” I replied, slightly angry, a little hurt, but mostly sad.
“The rules are there for you to feel safe, Darlin’,” I read. I didn’t want to feel safe; I wanted to be wild and crazy. Besides, strangely I felt safe with him. A total stranger made me feel safer than I have ever felt.
“I know. I know they were my rules. It is strange, but with you or with the thought of being with you, I do feel safe. When will you be here?” I asked. I didn’t receive an instant reply. I didn’t receive any reply. I waited. The wait grew longer.
“I didn’t mean to push,” I wrote quickly. No reply. I was beginning to panic. Did I make him mad? Was he going to ignore me? I felt tears well up. I needed to shower. Still no reply.
I let the hot water from the shower’s head fall across me. I turned the showerhead to pelting rain; it stung. I was fighting not to cry. Why had I pushed? Why had he not replied?
I felt hurt at his refusal to reply. Hurt turned to anger. I had not asked too much. I will tell him so. He started this with his confession. By the time my shower was complete, I was more frustrated and angry than before. Showers always calmed me down, not this time.
I shook the mouse, and the computer came to life. I had a reply. Instantly all my anger washed away, and I was on the edge of my seat.
“Now,” his message read, and the message was followed by a picture of him in a hotel room. His hair was wet. Had he showered too?
Now!? My heart stopped. My mind was frantic. I was walking on the high wire between panic and elation. It had been a year, and I had not had anything betwixt My legs that wasn’t my own parts. Now, the man I think I may have fallen for is no longer seven hundred plus miles away.
“Seriously!” I wrote shocked and angry at the same time.
“Yes, Seriously,” Isbjorn replied.
“As in Sault Ste. Marie, Canada?” I asked.
“Yes, Darling.”
“Why did you not tell me before?” I accused.
“Baby, we had an agreement. Details,” He wrote. I was going from angry to hurt, back to angry because I was hurt.
“So you don’t want to see me?” I asked, my breath held. Tears were blurring my vision, but I would not let them escape the prison my eyes held them in.
“More than anything in the world, Darling, but if we meet, everything changes,” He wrote, and I could almost hear the desire, desperation, and hope in his words.
“It already has,” I replied and realized the tears were running down my cheeks. I didn’t mind; they were tears of relief. Tears of fulfillment and happiness. I was already up and flinging clothes out of my closet like a madwoman.
A million times, I had fantasized about this. A trillion, maybe, and I was clueless about what I would wear.
“Nope, maybe, definitely not, maybe,” I yelled, flinging articles of clothing every which way and then running to check my messages. “Come on, refresh faster, damnit!”
His message gave me the time, hotel, and room number. He also asked about dinner.
“Sure,” I replied, “lounge then.”
“No. Business associates are in the hotel too. Come to the room, and then we will go out,” He replied.
“So tight jeans or a mini skirt?” I teased.
“Skirt, but classy. I want to take you out somewhere nice,” came his reply. I added black leggings, matching thong and bra. I was looking to knock him out.
I arrived at the hotel and casino. His room was on a higher level floor, and by the looks of it, he didn’t skimp on the room. I got to his door and knocked nervously. The light at the peephole darkened. I waited for too long. What was he doing? Was I not what he expected? Finally, the door opened.
My breath caught in my throat. He was more gorgeous than pictures could describe. The limits of my imagination did not do him justice. I was swooning. His intense stare was oppressive, but a look of wonder crossed his eyes as he smiled.
“Darling,” those oh so familiar words I had read so many times. His voice was like wild honey, “Come in. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
I stepped in and turned to say something but Isbjorn was right there. The door clicked shut. I looked up into his eyes. Our souls touched, and his lips were on mine.
I could smell his aftershave. I fell, or he pushed me against the wall. I leaned back and returned the kiss.
“I have wanted to kiss you for so long,” He moaned, more like growled. My lips parted, accepting his kiss to deepen.
“Same,” I gasped, and then he shocked me.
“I think darling, we may be late to dinner,” Isbjorn said as his only warning. He pressed harder against the wall.
“It’s okay, not too hungry,” I moaned between kisses. Our lips met again. His hands gripped me firmly but allowed me to move if there was even the slightest hesitation. There was none, and his hands roved my body.
He broke from our lips embrace
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“What?” I gasped. He dropped to a knee in response before me and took a single leg over his shoulder.
“I have too,” he said, “I have wanted to taste you so many times!” That was my only warning, and he gently pushed my skirt up. I looked down as my dress slid up my thigh. The light span of fabric covering my shaved pussy was pushed aside. His thumb teased my clit as he kissed my thighs. I held his head for stability. Soft wet kisses trailed up to my mound. His kisses were gentle. His tongue caressing me sent shivers through me. His kisses became faster and more frantic. I gripped his head.
His thumbs found the swollen bud between the folds of my skin. He played a heart-pounding rhythm on my clit. I moaned desperately. He started to suck on my click and then pushed his tongue inside me. My head fell back against the wall. He gripped my tight ass and pulled me tighter into him. His tongue drove deeper into me. My hips moved slowly in a rocking motion against his kissing. His fingers gripped my ass tightly. Gently pulling at each cheek. I pushed him back.
“Let’s go to bed,” I moaned. One hand loosened slightly in response, and I felt a finger running up and down the line of my thong.
“No, not yet,” he demanded, and he plunged his tongue deeper. Then, the finger slowly started to penetrate my ass. He worked it in slowly as he continued to suck my clit and lick in and out.
With a twirl, he spun me around and beneath him. He hovered over me, pinning me to the floor. Then he kissed me passionately. I could taste my sweet wetness upon his lips. I inhaled his scent. He kissed me harder, and his pants ground on me. The bulge inside was barely contained. I could feel his need pressing against me. Need that has been building since we first messaged each other. Since our first cosmic connection, a world apart. He ground against me harder. Then his hands pulled my top up over my head.
He kissed my collarbone down to my firm breasts. My hard nipples tickled by his beard. He sucked on them as his hands fumbled with his belt and pants, and suddenly he was free. I felt the head of his hard cock press against my hot wet lips. He looked into my eyes.
“Say it, Darling,” He said, almost pleading.
“Fuck me; I need it!” I begged.
“Say the words you will only ever say again to me!” He demanded. I smiled, looking into his eyes.
“I want you?” I whispered questioningly.
“I want to know if you feel what I feel,” he said and then slid gently in. An almost hurt look crossed his eyes. His girth was painful, but he took it slow. I squirmed, feeling him enter me. His mouth was next to my ear.
He nibbled and then whispered gently, “I think I am in love with you,” Isbjorn confessed. He began to move faster. He was slowly increasing the speed and working deeper and deeper inside of me. Moaning, he went deeper yet.
“It feels bigger than you said it was,” I confessed between gasps. His rhythm increased.
“It has been so long, darling,” his moans cried in my ear. He bit the side of my neck gently but firmly.
“Same for me,” I gasped, clawing at his back in ecstasy. I could feel him swell within me, but he hadn’t cum yet. Breath escaped my lips with each thrust. Then I felt him flex. Male kegel muscles making the part of him within me jump. It pegged my G-spot, and he kept going.
Deeper he moved and then, flex.
Out, in, deeper, and flex.
All his muscles strained, holding back his orgasm, and he fucked me faster and harder. His body moved me from his thrusts. Then the damn broke, and I felt him fill me. The warmth of his fluid was like liquid fire within me. Yet, he kept thrusting. Warm fluids filled me. He kissed me passionately. Then, he hugged me close and rolled over. I flipped on top with him still inside me. I slide down his pole slowly. His hands were gripping my breast. Liquid was seeping out between my lips. My knees landed on either side of him, and my body sank lower onto him. He slid deeper inside me. He pulled and gently twisted on my nipples. I was Grinding on him hard. His hips thrust gently to get me into a riding rhythm. My climax was building to tensions I did not know were possible.
I felt as if I might explode at any moment.
The need to avalanche over and give in to orgasm was catastrophic.
Finally, I could handle no more, thrusting over the peak, and I came hurtling down the other side. The orgasm was like lightning rushing through my body. I began gushing.
Never had I felt something so exhilarating, and I almost couldn’t breathe with the overwhelming sensation of it. He bucked and bounced from beneath me. He was gripping my ass to hold me on top. The result was him thrusting so deep inside me that it almost hurt my cervix, but I was too far gone even to care.
I collapsed onto his chest; I felt another rush of liquid fire fill me. Our panting breathing was almost deafening. We kissed passionately and then finally slowed. My head fells to his chest, and We lay there resting.
“We were supposed just to kiss and then get to know each other better,” he whispered with a smile. Pulling out, his cum dripped down my thigh.
Giggling, “I know, but this was much better.” My thong was ripped and long gone—a tattered ruin on the floor. We kissed again. Then he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and looked into my eyes. I could suddenly not breathe again. Such a simple act of hair folding, but it meant everything.
Staring into my eyes, he whispered, “How can someone so young, have such an old and wise soul? Do you think this was meant to be by the gods and goddesses?”
“Must be the goddess,” I whispered playfully.
He leaned over and brought his head down to my thigh. Then he kissed our mess gently, then put his tongue between my legs. The juices of our lovemaking were sweet and salty. I open my legs wider for him. Finally, he kissed me sweetly, and I tasted us on his lips.
