Tormund Giantsbane Meets His Match

Lady Arabella straightened her back as she moved through the crowd, knowing full well the effect she was having on the men - if they could be called that- around her. This was a Wildling army, she reminded herself, trying not to let her disgust show as she glanced about at the mass of rough, bearded, dirty men ogling her.

She'd come North with the Lords of the Vale, and they'd recently saved an army of northerners and wildlings, led by the brooding Jon Snow, from the annihilation by Ramsay Bolton.

The Knights of the Vale had learned long ago that trying to keep the lady home when the Vale's forces went to war was an impossible task - even her betrothed understood her skills were better spent with the army while he attended to the affairs of their estate. The Knights had come to rely on her organizational and medical talents, which helped their camp run smoothly, and appreciated her legendarily sharp wit.

And of course, it didn't hurt that few could wear a dress like she could.

A particularly brutish wildling with grease and mutton in his beard stalked forward, belching loudly, "Aye lads, now that's a fine lil thing now aint it!" he slurred, staring at her with drunken eyes "You're the woman of my dreams, can't you see? Come over here and I'll give you a glimpse."

She motioned her guards to stand down as they reached for their swords, staring past the wildling as she walked by him. "Your dreams?" She asked sardonically, " funny, this feels like my nightmare." The wildlings around her erupted in laughter.

A young, wildling with long dark hair and boyish features called from behind her, "Now that's an arse that needs a spanking!"

She glanced back at the wildling "boy, you'll need to learn to handle your mother's teets before you could ever dream of handling this."

More laughter from the wildlings, who descended into taunting one another and yelling jokes as she continued to press through the crowd, weaving her way with masterful wit, tavern waitress savvy, and a lady's elegance. She knew exactly the impact she was having on these beastly men; Lady Arabella's beauty was as legendary as her wit. She had flowing brown hair, piercing clear eyes, and sultry lips that tempted the imagination. She fit her bursting personality into a figure which defied all logic - petite, fit and small, with breasts perkier than a maidens, but somehow combined it with her famously curvaceous behind, which drew the fascination of men of all walks across the Vale. Hers was a special kind of power, and she wielded it with skill.

She'd worn one of her renowned form fitting dresses today. It was light purple, and flowed around elegantly around her legs, but clung seductively to her breasts, hips and ample ass. She needed to tame these beasts around her, and she would see them organized soon enough.

But she had her work cut out for her. The chorus of voices were growing more raucous, drunk with the challenge of the Lady Arabella presented them. And just as they reached a fever pitch, a gruff voice called out from just ahead of her, cutting through the din and silencing the crowd.

"Enough! Leave her be! This one will make mincemeat of you dogs faster than the Bolton's did."

The interlocutor stepped forward, revealing a stark, powerful figure dressed in furs from shoulders to his toes. He had a fiery red beard and flowing hair to match. He stared at her intensely, his eyes blue and hungry, confidently devouring her. The eyes of a beast barely restrained. He left her breathless.

"Besides," He continued, crossing his arms and leaning back cockily, "there's not a man in this rabble who would know how to properly fuck this one."

She took a moment to let her breath return, before responding to him. She raised her chin in defiance and met his gaze. The nerve of this man! She chose to ignore his comment.

"I presume you're Tormund Giantsbane, then? I heard your mother was a giant and your father a pig. It appears you take after your father."

Tormund's eyes widened at the insult, before his face broke into that cocky grin of his and he laughed uproariously. She studied his strong calloused hands and imagined them running over her body. She wondered what he was hiding underneath all of those furs. She blinked the invasive thoughts away as he responded.

"Enough of this. Why does this southern wench with her sword of a tongue march into my camp?"

"I'm here on behalf of the Lord of the Vale, who is otherwise occupied," she responded

"To help you...organize.... your provisions and to discuss our your travel plans."He pierced her soul with those wild eyes of his, and a thought occurred to her.

"Perhaps there's somewhere we could speak in private?"

***********

Lady Arabella laid in her padded lounge chair as she awaited Tormund's arrival. It had been several weeks since their initial meeting, and they'd come to respect one another. Over time she'd discovered that behind the gruff exterior was a man who cared deeply about the well being of his people, was loyal to a fault, passionate about his beliefs. Most of all, hidden behind all the lude jokes was a man that deeply respected women, and that fascinated her most of all.

Despite the respect, there was a certain tension between them that felt absolutely electric when she dwelled on it. She often found herself fantasizing about him when he wasn't around. Occupying her thoughts now, for instance, was a conversation she'd overheard a few days ago. She'd happened upon Tormund giving sex advice to another wildling. She might have laughed at the thought if the reality of his descriptions of how to properly fuck a woman hadn't left her dripping wet. She found her nipples hardening again at the thought, and she bit her lip. A voice startled her out of her reverie."

"I hope I'm not disturbing anything." Surprised. She turned, seeking the source of the voice. A man gazed at her with curious eyes from the entrance of her field tent. It was Tormund! Candles bathed the space in a dim light. Shadows played across his hard features.

"I see you still have some manners to learn, walking in on a lady without warning," she responded.

Tormund grunted in acknowledgement and sat in a chair across from her, pouring himself a glass of wine from a pitcher on a small table that separated them. He drank it noisily in several large gulps, the wine spilling through his beard. He grinned at her and winked, his teeth surprisingly white and cared for. His mouth frustratingly inviting.

"Mayhaps I should learn some manners," he said, wiping his beard with the back of his hand, "but you like a rough man. I can tell. Manners are for boys and timid men with soft hands."

A twinkle came to Lady Arabella's eyes. "You presume much, Tormund. But if you have to ask, I was in fact thinking about something I overheard you say recently. About how to...properly treat a woman. Tell me more."

He ravaged her with his eyes, as always, but remained in control, relaxed, a lion ready to pounce. He leaned forward, his voice low."Most men fuck like dogs. No grace, no skill, a few dozen thrusts, and done." He stood, slowly walking around the table towards her chair. "You need to be patient. To take your time. Your cock shouldn't go near her until she's as slick as a baby seal." He circled her slowly, coming around her chair until he towered over her. He continued, his voice lower. "And then, you go inside." He effortlessly nudged the chair with the toe of his boot, sliding it back from the table with his powerful leg, giving him room to kneel down, his face inches from hers. "You go inside, slowly. Don't jam it in like you're spearing a pig."

His breath was hot and sweet with the scent of wine, and he reached out and brushed her face with the back of his course hand. She moved to get up and he grabbed her wrist and kissed her.

His lips met hers with animalistic delight, and she exploded with pleasure and desire. She grabbed him by his fiery mane and pulled him in, losing herself for a moment in his feral scent. Abruptly she pushed him away and sat up.

"I'm...betrothed. You shouldn't be here."

Tormund chuckled, a low, gritting rumble. "Every lady has her secrets. Besides, do you think it's marriage I'm interested in?" He laughed again, "no, it's not your hand I seek, but the fire inside you."

Lady Arabella shot Tormund a mischievous look. "You're a scoundrel and a beast....a wildman." She stood up slowly, her body visible through the near-see through loose fitting nightgown she wore, and shoved him back onto a bearskin rug. "And a scoundrel is just what I need right now."

She straddled him, throwing herself into his thick, lustrous beard. They kissed passionately, and she felt his powerful hands touch her body for the first time. He confidently grabbed her ass and massaged it, and she could feel him pulse with anticipation beneath her.

In one swift motion Tormund grabbed her by the waist flipped her onto her back. He grabbed her nightgown by the collar and effortlessly ripped off it with his left hand, exposing her tight body and perfect, perky tits. He grabbed her tits and bent over, taking one in his mouth, kissing it, the sensation of his warm wet mouth shot through her body like a bolt of fire. He raised himself back up then, and positioned himself next to her head, and took his fur coat off, revealing a muscled chest, covered in a light layer of red hair and pocketed with scars. Arabella lifted herself up to her knees and pushed her hands from his hard stomach upwards, taking in his bulging muscles, gently tracing his souvenirs of war. They locked eyes, and she gave him a knowing look.

"Shall we see what mysteries the big man is hiding underneath these furs?"

She was overcome with lust for the man towering over her, and pulled his fur bottoms down to his knees. Tormund's thick member sprang out, pulsing with anticipation. He was thick and long, as robust as the man himself. He gracefully pulled his pants off the rest of the way as Arabella, slowly, sensually bent down in front of him, lowering her head, arching her back and thrusting her round ass into the air. He admired the view and spanked her ass as she bent over, appreciating it as it jiggled. He spanked her again and she groaned in pleasure.

She grabbed his warm cock and admired its hardness, and took his head into her mouth, swirling it with her tongue. She looked at him with big eyes as he thrust into her mouth and gathered her hair into his hands. She heard him grunt and groan in pleasure as she worked him.

She could feel his body tense when he grabbed her hair gently, but firmly, and pulled her head back, kissing her with a wild passion. He grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly threw her onto the lounge chair. He put one leg over each shoulder, sliding his hands firmly up and down her thighs. He worked his way down, a ravenous, forceful, graceful beast, eager to reach her wet, engorged pussy, but knowingly teasing her every step of the way. He reached up and held her down with one hand, and grabbed one of her nipples in the other, lightly pulling on one and then the other.

He was driving her half mad, with the ravenous way he approached her dripping wet mound. And suddenly he was there, and she felt him grab her ass with both hands as his wet mouth kissed her womanhood, a deep, passionate kiss. She wanted his face closer, and grabbed him by his lustrous hair, pulling him into her. She felt his broad, wet tongue slowly lick her pussy, up and down, up and down, at first, from bottom to top. He slowly started to concentrate on her throbbing clit, circling it with that warm, wet tongue. His hands worked up and down her body, moving from her ass to her tits and back, controlling her movements, feeling every curve. She groaned and he picked up speed, finally licking her clit, more steadily, alternating between sucking, licking, kissing. She felt the warmth rushing through her body and embraced her orgasm as it washed over her. He lifted his head up now, his beard soaked with her wetness. "Now that there is fine pussy," he grinned.

"Now that is how you treat a pussy" she moaned in agreement.

He grabbed her by the hips and threw her over his shoulder, smacking her ass. He put her back down on the bearskin rug on her stomach, and took both her ass cheeks in his hands, massaging her perfect bubble butt.

"I've been wanting to get my hands on this for a long time," he said, his voice filled with lust. He spanked her again, and pulled her to her hands in knees so that she was bent over in front of him. He teased her with his thick cock, gliding it between the folds her pussy lips. She pushed back against him, needing him inside of her, and yet he teased. He gathered her hair in his hands and pulled her hair back gently, and kissed her from above, slowly, sensually, his thick cock pressing frustratingly against her wet pussy.

"Fuck me you beast of a man" she demanded, grabbing his beard and pulling her towards him. He laughed uproariously and pushed her against the frame of the canvas tent, and slowly pushed himself inside of her. She gasped as her pussy enveloped his thickness. He spanked her and began slowly thrusting in and out of her, She pushed her ass back against him. She felt as if she were made for his body, it fit hers so well.

"Do you like that tight pussy?" she asked mischievously.

"I love it. Do you like getting fucked by my thick cock? Tell me you love it."

"Fuck yes. Fuck me harder you big, rough man" she responded.

And Tormund obliged. The sound of skin slapping on skin spread through the tent. He pulled her hair back again, gathering it up in his hands, admiring the shape her arched neck neck made with her curved spine, the way her hips curved into the jiggling, active ass. She reached back and grabbed his muscled thigh, and pushed back harder, fucking him as much as he fucked her, their rhythm in sync, their bodies enmeshed. She felt him pull out and push her down, felt his thick cock between her ass cheeks, and his hot cum on her ass and back.

Tormund slumped over her, and she could feel the weight of his bulky, muscled frame lying on top of her. She laid there for a minute or so before she felt him getting hard again. She looked over her shoulder at her bearded wildebeast.

"We're going to have a long night, aren't we?"