Diarmuid and Grainne

The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne

Chapter 1: The Wedding Feast

##Inspired by the Irish mythological story##

The four guards at the gate were already half drunk. The wedding feast of old Fionn mac Cumhaill and his new virgin bride Grainne was in full swing inside in the great hall, with a rowdy noise emanating from within. They were counting down the hours until they would be relieved of their duties and could join the celebrations. At least they had been provided with enough mead to keep their spirits up with darkness closing in.

Their ribald conversation about how Grainne would lose her virginity in a few hours time was halted by the sight that now greeted them looking down the dark road leading up to their gate. A caped figure with the hood pulled down over his face approached on a horse that was probably once white, but now was splattered all over with mud, manure and dried blood. Limping along at their side was a large hound, looking emaciated and at death's door.

"Halt, who goes there!" called the largest of the four watchmen.

No reply came from the figure as the group slowly trod up the road.

"Stop stranger and reveal yourself, or we will set our hounds on you!" was shouted loud enough to be easily heard over the din from the feast.

The horse halted and the hooded figure revealed his face, heavily bearded, dirty but even from this distance in the dark, his full lips, intense hazel eyes, and a bright spot in the middle of his forehead marked him as out of the ordinary. "I am Diarmuid of the Fianna. I return from patrolling our borders for two years. And this is the welcome I get?"

The head watchman called back "We are not from this part of the kingdom and know not of a Diarmuid. You will have to stay where you are until we are relieved by locals at the end of our watch".

Diamuid pressed his heels gently into the sides of his horse and continued towards the gate.

"Stop where you are right now or we will set our hounds on you stranger!" called the smaller of the four watchmen as he brought four large snarling hounds forward, straining at their leashes.

The trio kept coming slowly towards the gate. When they were 20 yards from the gate, the watchmen released their hounds who flung themselves at Diarmuid's hound and horse. Before they could close on their prey, Diarmuid set his hound, Bran, on attack. At Diarmuid's command Bran reared up and an energy flowed through him that reinvigorated the old war hound. He flung himself at the four attacking hounds, and in a flurry of fur, spittle, and blood they were rent asunder with the most horrendous death howls splitting the night air.

The watchmen were in shock and enraged by the death of their loyal hounds. Each of them retrieved a bow from the gatekeep, notched an arrow, drew, and were about to release the deadly projectiles when from behind them a roared "Stop" stayed their hands. They knew that voice.

They turned around to face Fionn mac Cumhaill. Even in his old age, tall, bearded, greying-blonde, Fionn was a fearsome sight. His cheeks were red from the copious mead he had consumed. But he was not merry. His anger radiated from him.

"Who dares cause such a commotion on the day of my wedding?"

Diarmuid encouraged his steed forward a few paces and under the light of the gate's torches pulled the sleeve of his left arm up to reveal a triskele tattoo on his inner arm.

"Diarmuid, is that you?"

"Yes Fionn, I am returned from two years protecting our borders, the only survivor of my patrol, and it looks like I have been forgotten".

Fionn ran forward, embraced Diarmuid in his bear-like grip, and hauled him off his weary horse.

"Diarmuid, you are not forgotten, just unexpected. And you return on a special night. I have wed Grainne, the most beautiful girl in these lands."

Diarmuid looked at Fionn with sadness in his eyes "So Sadhbh passed?"

"Yes, only a few days after you left. But now is not a time for the past, let's look to the future. Come in and join in with the celebrations."

Diarmuid's mind raced back two years.

When Diarmuid turned 19, he entered Fionn's household. As one of the Fianna's most promising young warriors. He was to learn from Fionn and the elders for 3 months before heading a border party to defend the borders of Ireland for at least 2 years. It was then that he met Sadhbh.

Married to Fionn for 20 years. She was now past her fiftieth year and rumour was that her powers were fading. She was of the forest, appearing to Fionn first as a deer before taking human form. Her magical powers were renowned and many were scared of her. Not Diarmuid -- he always had a strong attraction to her. Blonde of hair, she had the shapely curves of a well-nourished woman who had born several children. But her most magical feature were her eyes -- blue-grey, intense, searching discs that reached into your soul and laid everything bare in front of her.

She was always kind but short spoken with Diarmuid. He paid her the respect due to his king's wife, nothing more. However, there were moments when he found her gaze linger on his brown-green eyes and full lips. Something unspoken fizzled between them in those moments. Alone at night in his cell-like room, thoughts of her flooded his head, and his manhood.

It was the eve of his departure to patrol Ireland's borders when the door to his small hut opened late at night. Standing there framed by the moonlight was Sadhbh, holding a cup. She entered the hut and closed the door behind her. Diarmuid sat up and lit some candles.

She was dressed in a light sleeping gown. Green, with embroidery at the cuffs and at the bosom, which was was low-cut revealing her still ample breasts.

Her eyes scanned him like a hungry wolf. He felt his blood pool between his legs. But he fought that -- he must remain loyal to Fionn, his king.

She held the cup out to him. "Diarmuid, tomorrow you leave here to go on a dangerous journey. I have prepared this elixir to strengthen you for the trials ahead. It is one of the last drops of magic I have in me."

Diarmuid met Sadhbh's intense gaze, and took the cup from her. "Thank you Sadhbh, this is an honour". He knocked back the bitter lukewarm liquid in one go.

Immediately, he felt a little dizzy and sought the stability of his cot-like bed. Sitting on its edge, he looked up at Sadhbh who seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. He felt entranced. His head told his arm to move and it didn't. He tried to lift a leg and it remained rooted to the floor.

Sadhbh reached behind her neck and unfastened her night dress. She let it fall to her feet revealing her sinuous, full-bodied nakedness.

"No Sadhbh, I must remain loyal to Fionn. I must stay unknown to women, especially to you his wife."

Sadhbh knelt in front of Diarmuid. "Darling boy, I knew you would remain loyal. That is why I used my last drop of magic to put you entirely under my power for the next hour. I am not long more for this world. I need to take your seed with me on my journey to the next life to ensure the rebirth of our folk. I have sensed this since the moment I set eyes on you."

"No, no" whined Diarmuid as Sadhbh slowly but surely unbuttoned his tunic but he was unable to raise the volume of his voice. And try as he might, he couldn't move a muscle. The only part of him moving was his growing manhood. Now he really felt the best word to describe that rock-hard organ was that used by the old, crude soldiers -- cock. Like a cockerel in a henhouse, his cock was becoming a prancing, horny, vigorous animal, intent on only one thing. And fully beyond his control.

Sadhbh eased Diarmuid's tunic off his broad shoulders. Still kneeling in front of him, she stroked his hairy chest with her hands. She traced each of the three spirals on the triple spiral tattoo above his heart, slowly, purposefully, while looking deep into his eyes, into his soul.

Diarmuid thought to himself that if this is her power on the wane, she must have been the most powerful druidess in her prime.

As Sadhbh sucked on his nipples, nibbled even, his balls began to swell with his young seed. He tried to push her away, pull away, get up and run, but he was powerless.

Sadhbh raised Diarmuid's feet and laid him out on the bed. She jumped astride him and gave him the most brilliant of smiles -- a smile that illuminated the dim room.

Her fingers deliberately, wantingly, unbuttoned his leather trousers. Once freed, his cock sprung out like a taut bow being loosened, with drops of precum flying arrow-like into her face. She collected them on the tip of her finger and tasted them as if they were the finest wine. "Yes Diarmuid, you are ripe for the taking".

Sadhbh eased his trousers off and jumped back astride him. Her hand cradled Diarmuid's full, throbbing balls. She could feel them filling more and more with his vital essence. Her hand gently contracted on them in a milking motion, summoning forth ever more of what she needed. She now held in her hand a pair the size of which she had last seen on a ram that had been let loose on his flock having been penned separate to them for months. He was ready.

She took his shaft in her hand and slowly eased it up over his bulbous knob, hooding it again with his foreskin, before pulling it slowly back down. Rivulets of precum flowed over his cock. She could feel his pulse in her grip.

Sadhbh eased herself up. Diarmuid could see her sturdy thighs bracketing around his. In the candle light he caught a glimpse of the open, swollen, wet lips that now plunged down on his cock. He sighed as his cock was taken deep within Sadhbh, her juices flowing out and soaking his balls. She moaned with pleasure as she felt a young, turgid cock for the first time in decades.

As she rocked up and down on his shaft, slowly savouring every inch of firmness, her breasts danced in front of Diarmuid. Despite his efforts at resistance, Sadhbh's perfectly formed nipples were so enticing. He found himself leaning up to them. Sadhbh eagerly lowered a nipple into his mouth. As he suckled on it, Diarmuid was surprised at the sweet taste of milk in his mouth.

Through her moans of pleasure, Sadhbh spoke tenderly to Diarmuid.

"I need your virgin seed sweet man. The very last drop of my powers is in this milk. Drink and it will protect you on your watch at our borders. No harm can come to you. This I give in exchange for your essence."

Sadhbh increased the frequency and urgency of her rocking. Diarmuid suckled harder and harder, craving every drop of milk. His balls boiled with eagerness. With a deep moan Sadhbh came, her muscles contracting around Diarmuid's cock so tight that he didn't know if the violent spurts of cum that shot out of him for the next minute were propelled by his contracting balls or sucked out of him by Sadhbh's demanding cunt.

Diarmuid reluctantly let the nipple fall from his mouth as Sadhbh dismounted him. Milk dribbled from his mouth as his cum dripped from between Sadhbh's legs.

He fell back on his bed exhausted. The last thing he remembered before falling into the deepest sleep was the kiss of Sadhbh's lips on his.

When he awoke the next morning his first thought was that it had all been a dream. But then he tasted the milk in his mouth. He dressed quickly and went out into the courtyard.

Fionn's angry shout brought him back to earth "You're late young Diarmuid. Get your gear together, you ride out in an hour."

When they rode off on their 2-year watch, they were waved off by Fionn and his court. But Sadhbh was nowhere to be seen. The rumour went around that she had been taken ill overnight.

The noise that burst forth from the great hall as the doors were opened jarringly brought Diarmuid back to the present. Fionn led the way and announced to the guests in his booming voice "Friends, look who has returned. It is Diarmuid returned from our borders." A great cheer went up accompanied by toasts of wine and mead.

It took Diarmuid's eyes a minute to adjust to the well-lit hall. When he finally looked in the direction of the top table his jaw dropped open at the sight of Grainne. She was staring steadily at him across the hall. And her eyes! He had seen them before. Grainne's eyes were exactly the same colour as Sadhbh's had been, with a matching intensity. She had the same yellow hair and full breasts too. To Diarmuid, Grainne looked like a younger twin of Sadhbh.

Grainne had heard of Diarmuid from her handmaidens - the best looking man in the land, those eyes, those lips! They had not exaggerated. Seeing him across the hall, she felt an instant bond with him. It felt as if she knew him already. She felt the juices run between her legs for the first time since she was betrothed to Fionn.

Grainne had been dreading what would happen in a few hours time. Her handmaidens had said that it may be painful but it will be quick. Fionn was known by all the women of ill repute to shoot his seed very quickly. The thought of that rancid cock penetrating her had made her feel sick. But now all her thoughts were on Diarmuid.

Fionn led Diarmuid to the great hearth at the middle of the hall. "Diarmuid, we need to get you cleaned up. And as your patrol is finished, you can now be relieved of your seed."

While on patrol, the men of the Fianna swore to not cum. The tension that built up in these young, virile warriors turned them into aggressive fighters. Two years of such tension were now coiled up in Diarmuid's loins.

A large basin of warm water was brought forth by three maidens, each not much younger than Diarmuid. They eagerly opened the buttons of his tunic, revealing his hairy chest and downy, taut, belly. The triskele tattoo over his heart was not the only marking on him. He had several scars on his arms and torso showing the battles he had been in. Some indicated wounds that should have been mortal - Sadhbh's magic had indeed protected him.

They sat him on a low stool. A sharp knife glinted in the firelight as one of the young women carefully shaved away his unkempt beard. Every stroke of the blade revealed more and more of his beautiful face. His full lips came clearly into view.

The three maidens drooled over the handsome warrior but Diarmuid only had eyes for Grainne. Despite the festivities recommencing, Grainne's eyes were locked on Diarmuid. So much was being communicated between the two without a single word being exchanged.

Once shaved, Diarmuid stood up and the three women fought amongst themselves to be the one to free him from his leather breeches. The lucky maiden gasped, not at the sight of Diarmuid's semi-rigid cock, but at the size of his balls. It was clear that Diarmuid had remained faithful to his oath of chastity the last two years.

Diarmuid stepped into the basin of warm water and the women languidly washed him all over.

Grainne could feel her juices running down her thighs. Her hand rested between her legs, safely out of sight. Fionn was busy elsewhere drinking with his hunting companions. Grainne's eyes were locked on Diarmuid's. She could feel his desire mirroring hers. She began to rub herself. As she did so, Diarmuid's cock reacted as if she was stroking it. It grew iron-hard, and a dark vein bulged along its length.

Diarmuid could sense Grainne reaching into his soul with those eyes of hers. As one of the maidens took his hard cock in her hand, it felt like he was cheating on her. But his balls ached and he needed relief.

As the firm grip slid up and down his cock, Grainne rubbed herself in time. In fact, she was using her magic to control the maiden's rhythm. Diarmuid's tree-trunk like thighs quivered as the tempo increased. For Diarmuid and Grainne, everything else in the great hall was a faint hum in the background. They were knotted together in this febrile moment.

The sight of Diarmuid's cum spewing forth and travelling several feet from him made Grainne cum, as she bit her lip to suppress the scream erupting from within.

Diarmuid's balls contracted at least a dozen times as they emptied themselves. The gasps of the handmaidens and the deep, prolonged, grunt-like sigh that emerged from Diarmuid's beautiful lips attracted the attention of all the wedding guests.

From the other end of the hall, Fionn's distinctive voice boomed "Now Diarmuid, you have truly come home!"

That brought Diarmuid back to the here and now. He broke eye contact from Grainne for the first time since he laid eyes on her and let the maidens proceed to mop up the splatters of cum that laid a trail up to six feet in front of him.

As Grainne lowered her eyes she felt drained. So much energy had flowed between them she needed to recover. She got up and slipped quietly out of the hall, telling her handmaidens she would be back shortly.

That she would. And with a steely intent that she would not let Fionn bed her. No. She had found her love. She had found Diarmuid.