It had been weeks, months, seasons! since Vilkir had seen the small harbor area of his village. His raids to the West seemed to last longer and longer. But there was treasure, glory, and land to be had there. If he wanted any of it, he would have to go Viking to get it. This particular raid was difficult because of the promise he had made his wife before he left. Raiding meant taking whatever one could get their hands on. Whether that was silver, gold, food, or women.
Vilkir didn't have to take the women, but it was a perk of being a small giant. If he wanted one, he could have one. The knowledge of knowing he could helped keep him focused. When the need aroused within, he simply found one of the locals and took her to his bedroll, and finished what he needed to do. It was that simple. Every raider did this. But his wife made him swear on his arm ring that he would control himself this time. Were it any other promise, he would have simply been more cautious and made sure no one saw. But this oath was sworn on his arm ring. An oath sworn on an arm ring could not be broken, save by death.
As the longship sailed into the fjord, Vilkir's heart, and cock, swelled in anticipation of seeing the living goddess he had married! So many nights he had seen her face in the stars, her hair in the dancing flames of campfires, the curves of her body swirling in the water surrounding him. He thought he would go mad one evening as he awoke from a dream in which she stood before him in a white and gold dress. Freyja herself would have been jealous of the glorious figure that seemed to descend from the skies; beams of golden radiant light streaming from her head as she floated before him. She reached up and unclasped the golden broaches holding the sheer shift to her body. It cascaded down, past her voluptuous breasts exposing them to the sunlight. Her pink nipples starting to stiffen and peak. Her arms opened wide just as the garment passed her hips and as it fell past her naval, a golden beam of light shone from between her legs and enveloped Vilkir's sight. He blinked from the intensity and when his sight cleared, he was alone in his tent. His pants formed their own tent, and he threw his head back and cursed Loki for his trickery.
But now, he was home! The sounds of the village began to fill his ears, the sight of the longhouse fires burning brightly against the cloudy skies entered into his vision. He was finally home. A horn blared in the distance, announcing the return of the raiders. His own longship bellowed a returning call. Wives, sons, daughters, and elders all flooded from their homes and down to the docks to welcome their Vikingrs!
The longship pulled up to the dock and Vilkir gathered his shield, ax, and bag. He grabbed the leather thong that was tied around the gift he had brought back to his wife Helgi. The beast was slow to move, and Vilkir pulled the chain to get it stirred to its feet. It reluctantly followed behind him as he made his way to the village center. His daughter Astrid saw him first and ran headlong into his arms. He marveled at how she had grown in the short time they were separated. He picked her up and twirled her around.
"Who are you?! And what have you done with my little Astrid? In my arms, I hold a small giant!"
"PAPPA IT'S MEEEEEE!!" Astrid squealed as he tickled her.
"Well, it seems like if it is you, then you are big enough to lead this creature to the barn yourself! Prepare a bucket and water so that I can clean it before we show your mother!"
Astrid took the lead from her father and tugged it to get the gift moving. As Vilkir turned towards his home and saw Helgi standing in the doorway. Her hair cascading down in waves of amber. Her pale skin was flecked in patches of dirt, but could not hide the full curve of her lips, nor dim her beauty from within. She smiled as Vilkir approached and pressed her body against his as he took her by the hip and small of her back.
"I have waited for many lonely nights to do this," Vilkir said as he dropped his equipment to the ground with a clatter. He cupped her face in his left hand and pulled her towards him. He could smell her sweet breath as she parted her lips to kiss him. At the last moment, he stooped down and bit her neck playfully. Helgi laughed in surprise and tried to pull away, but Vilkir simply wrapped his arm tighter around her waist.
"10 weeks apart, and this is what you have been waiting for," Helgi laughed as she pressed her neck to Vilkir's lips. His teeth raked across her neck, sending a jolt of lightning through her body that made every hair on her stand tall.
"No," Vilkir replied, his voice heavy with desire. The taste of sweat and skin, the feeling of warmth on his cheek, and the touch of his love's fingers digging into his shoulders sparked the flame of sheer lust within Vilkir. The dammed river of passion began to spill over its holdings and flood his veins. Vilkir brought both of his hands down to Helgi's hips and pulled her into him. His lips found hers and he drank deeply from the pools of passion, lust, and desire that he found there. His eagerness turned his passionate kiss into a ferocious need to take in all of Helgi. His tongue soon entered her parted lips and began a flitting dance of longing and need with hers. Vilki's member flooded with blood and began to strain against the chord holding his pants up. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of his beloved and he began to push her into their home to begin his Victor's Feast.
"Wait. Wait. WAIT," cried Helgi as she was lifted off the ground. She pulled away from Vilkir's face and tapped his forehead with each exclamation. "You are filthy! You stink of smoke, blood, and men. Which is usually fine, but you've also got the stench of Christian on you that I want off. You need a bath."
The word 'bath' brought Vilkir to his senses for half a moment.
"Astrid," he yelled. "I will be far too busy making you a brother this evening! Have Orli wash your mother's gift and have him bring it to the house when he is done. Tell him not to spoil it. Then you are to stay with your friend tonight!!"
Vilkir's gaze was fixed on Helgi, so he didn't see the grimace Astrid made as she went to relay her father's orders.
Helgi took Vilkir into the house and sat him down at their small table. She poured a cup of mead and put a plate of meat in front of him. Next to the meat was a small plate of cheese and bread.
"Enjoy these," she said as she ran her hands across his shoulders. "You'll need your strength for the real Feast later. I will prepare a bath for you."
Helgi disappeared and Vilkir could hear the sounds of water being poured into a basin for him. He finished his meal and went to find his wife. Helgi stood next to a basin. Naked. Her red hair falling to the tops of her round breasts. Vilkir stared at the red hair that sprang from between her thighs and his mouth and cock began to ache with desire. Helgi raised a hand and curled a finger, beckoning Vilkir to stand in front of her.
Vilkir approached and stood before the goddess who he claimed as his own. She began to undress him. First his bracers, then his cloak, each falling to the floor. She ran her fingers up and down his muscled arms as she pulled his tunic up over his head. She traced his shoulders and pecs with her fingers and ran her breasts across his exposed skin. He could feel her nipples getting harder as she stood behind him. She ran her hands up and down his stomach and chest, tracing every scar, new and old, with her fingertips. She bit into his shoulders as she dug her nails into the flesh of his pecs. Helgi's hands slid down her husband's stomach and reached his belt. She began kissing his arms and down his side as her hands worked to untie the simple knot on the chord. As the rope began to slide off his hips, she caught it in her left hand. Her right hand tucked into his pants. She ran her fingers up and down his thighs and began to suck on his shoulders as she applied more pressure to the muscles. She let the rope, and Vilkir's trousers fall to the floor. Her hands reached his hips and started to work their way to his throbbing dick which stood straight and strained into the air. She took his hard member into her hands, clasping her fingers around his shaft.
"My Vikingr has been without shelter for so long," she whispered into his ear as she began to stroke his shaft reach around style. "I know of a few places this longship can find warmth."
She walked around to the front of Vilkir and knelt in front of him. She removed his boots first, and then took his trousers off. Vilkir was naked with his goddess in his home. Finally. Helgi took up the wet cloth from the basin of warm water. She rang out the rag and started at his shoulders, letting the water stream down his chest and torso. She dabbed beneath his arms and scrubbed at various other, particularly dirty, patches of his skin. She kissed his nipples, along with every scar and wound she found on his body. She worked her way down again, dabbing and scrubbing various nooks and crannies of her Vikingr's toned body. Eventually, she found herself in front of his waiting shaft and took it once again in her hands. This time, she dabbed the cloth with fresh water and cleaned the member of all its earth-while scents. She started at the base, and worked her way to the tip; eventually cleaning every strand and cranny. She cupped his balls and washed between his legs. As she finished, she worked her hands between his legs and washed his in-betweens. As she did so, she took the tip of his dick and playfully started to kiss it. Eventually, she wrapped her tongue around it and began to suck tenderly at his growing head. She could taste his pre-cum start to flow. It was a taste she had never thought in her life she would actually miss, but this meant that her Vilkir had come home to her again. Other wives were not so lucky.
