Village Tales Book 1 A Measure of Breeding
Alexia: Persuasions and Passions
Part 1
Introduction
His gleaming and swollen erection thrust eagerly into her responsive slot. Her legs wrapped tightly round his waist as his limber cock stretched her vagina to surfeit and extended into her until his fleece covered balls slapped noisily against her squirming bottom. Small gurgles of passion trickled from her lips as her legs stretched out wide and her pent up orgasm shuddered through her.
The lovers were oblivious to the rising tumult in the road outside their window. With one last massive heave, they met as one, their cries of fulfillment drowning all other distractions. Reluctantly the man rolled over, revealing the object of his lust, a tall lithe blonde woman who smiled at him lovingly. Her proud breasts jutted flirtatiously from her chest, nipples still stiff with tension and her hands yet fidgeting between her thighs as though her ardour was not yet assuaged. Her yawning hole, ringed with reddish fur and topped with her surprisingly large erection, was rosy and moist.
The blonde man smiled back at her, as he rolled to his back. His prodigious cock glistening with their conjoined spendings and still partly erect, lolled lazily between his legs until it folded over his splendid balls and trickled its remaining exudate. Slowly, the noise outside penetrated their reverie and the man moved quickly to window and lifted the curtain.
What he saw filled him with fear for himself, his wife and their daughters who slept down the hall. Sword wielding men were running pell mell down the street, some breaking open doors, some in close combat with villagers and still others engaged in various depravities with captured men and women. Already, dead and dying people littered the street. A man waddled out of a cottage with a young girl kicking and screaming under each arm. Once outside he dropped them to the ground side by side and sat on them.
The blonde man recognized them as the daughters of his neighbour, Ulfrit, and her younger sister. Grasping the neck of Ulfrit's dress, he ripped it down to her navel, uncovering her quivering, still ripening, breasts to his unrestricted gaze and active fingers. Very soon, both girls lay naked in the mud where he rudely fondled their hitherto untapped charms.
A man riding by on a horse, swung down beside the captor and seized the younger girl around the waist. Lifting her high above his head he lowered her until she sat on his shoulders and his mouth was buried between her thighs. Then, with a deft adjustment turned her head downward and continued his assault on her virginal slit from this stance, her head resting on the saddle. Righting her and placing her on her feet he laughed aloud as he grasped the small mounds of her breasts and squeezed them cruelly, before pushing her aside to chase after the more voluptuous form of Bella who struggled under two lust driven youths.
Bella's skirt was already hoisted high while one of the youths struggled to impale her wriggling sex. While this took place, the girl's captor retrieved her and dragged the two naked girls back into the house from which he had carried them and where the blonde man had no uncertainty as to their momentary fate. The rider quickly remounted and rode up the street toward Bella where he swept her off the ground and sat her on the horse facing him, depriving her frustrated pursuers of their quarry. As he rode by the window again, Ingemar saw his prick bound in and out of her beleaguered slit, piercing her to his balls as he rode away.
Quickly, Ingemar dropped the curtain and ran to his wife.
"Quickly Alexia, you must get dressed and hide. Raiders are rampaging and looting in the village."
Alexia rose and pulling on her underthings, threw a light frock on.
"Hide here in the wardrobe. Make sure you get well behind the clothes. They will probably not look too closely. I'm sure that clothes are not very high on their list of loot. I will get the girls and hide them in the false cupboard downstairs."
"Go quickly, Ingemar, they're getting closer."
They kissed quickly and Ingemar ran down the narrow loft stairs to the room where their daughters still slept while Alexia burrowed behind the clothes in the wardrobe and crouched down in the corner. Ingemar hurried into the girl's room and found them, as was their wont, huddled together in the bed, bedclothes wrapped round their shoulders.
On another day Ingemar night have lingered over the sight of the three beautiful maidens whose nighties had so charmingly ridden up to reveal innocent young vulvas feathered like protective nests. Young Winifred's arm encircled Alana's more womanly body, her hand cupping a liberated breast that had escaped its confinement. He briefly wondered whether they indulged in more than just sleeping when they went to bed, but, this was no day for dalliance and daydreaming. He roused the three girls and after they had dressed, quickly hurried them to the living room where he opened the false cupboard, pushed them inside and then slammed it closed.
He was none too soon for at that moment he heard violent pounding at the door. Lifting his broadsword from its perch on the wall he waited for the raiders to break through.
1. An Arrival at Saint Michel
The austere grey stone building stood alone on foreboding moors, indifferent to the ebb and flow of life within and without it. Sparse trees bent and warped from relentless winds scarcely reached the bottom of the second floor windows. A twisted rutted road, muddied from the recent rains stopped abruptly at two massive oak gates blackened with age. Approaching this inhospitable place, an open cart rumbled along the fog bound road its creaks and groans swallowed by the wind. Two bedraggled female passengers wrapped in an oilskin sat in the cold drizzle behind a sad looking driver. He, huddled under an oilskin with another woman, whipped the horse onward in a desultory manner. The man and the women, hunched together for warmth; scarves wrapped around their heads to protect them from the rain.
At the gates, the driver crawled out of his seat and limped up to the doors and taking a large black pull-rope in his hands he pulled strongly. A dull clang from a distant bell was barely audible over the continuous whistling of the wind. The gates swung open slowly. Remounting, the driver whipped his horse into motion and the cart lurched slowly into the courtyard. It stopped in front of an imposing set of doors set into the front of the house like prison gates. On the top step a tall sister dressed in black and of indeterminate age waited in silence. The two women in the back scrambled out of the cart and stretched their stiff muscles before thanking the driver and ascending the stairs. Waiting until the others climbed the steps, the third woman reached up and kissed the driver lightly on the lips before following the other women. The driver swung into the wagon seat and left with no further communication and disappeared out of the gates that swung closed with a hollow thud. Up close, the house looked more like a prison than a religious retreat but perhaps the difference was immaterial.