The Dragonborn Hunts

In the Basement

Katja, trailed by her two men, exited Breezehome. Shortly thereafter they found themselves standing outside the Luxury Suite. The evening had been delightful, and the cool evening air was already taking some of the wine fuzz from their brains. As the three entered the Suite, Anders turned to her and said “Kat, as the Divines are my witness, may they strike me down if I ever again say a bad word about your cooking. That was fantastic!” He enfolded her in his arms, squeezing her tight, then bent to plant a less-than-chaste kiss on her lips. She gazed up into his eyes, smiling. “See you in the morning!”

Kat and Wyll went off, his massive arm around her shoulders, in the direction of the trap door behind the bar. Anders watched them go, a bit of wistful longing clouding the overall mellowness of his mood. He had not been bullshitting her, the meal was truly wonderful. Why had he always assumed she couldn’t cook? Ah well. There she went to be with Wyll, and he had the large master bed all to himself tonight. Perhaps the memory of yesterday’s activities and some help from his strong right hand would help to ease the pain.

Down in the basement, still bantering gaily and half-high on wine, Katja’s anticipation of being in Wyll’s arms was approaching a peak. Whenever she was away from him for a while, the longing for him became so strong! Yet the same was true of Anders. She needed both of them, and in the months they had all been together she had not yet come up with any solution to the conflict that worked better than the one they had arrived at back before defeating Alduin – each of them taking turns to be with her.

As she stood beside the bed, Wyll enfolded her in his powerful arms. Katja felt like a child, like the merest wisp within that embrace. He was so huge, her godlike young warrior! And so tender, so sweet, so sunny. He filled her heart with joy as he filled her loins with passionate longing. For a moment she just lost herself in him, surrounded by him, as he bent his head to drink her mouth in a hungry kiss.

In a few moments she broke from it, panting for breath. How he inflamed her! And then he said, in his deep rumbling voice, “Anders wasn’t lying. That dinner was amazing, Kat!” She rocked backward, clutching Wyll’s arms for support as she nearly fell over laughing. Just when things were getting intense! She leaned back into him, running her hand over the front of his trousers. That huge, insistent member was standing upright, rock hard beneath the fabric.

Katja lifted up Wyll’s shirt so that the tip of his cock, protruding from the waistband of the trousers, was exposed. She licked her thumb and forefinger and ran them over the top of it, pressing on the tumescent and velvety head and coaxing out a little clear, glistening fluid from the “eye” atop it. Gazing up into his luminous blue eyes, she said “Wyll Jarskarvir, I do not believe that it is my cooking that is currently on your mind.”

He growled deep in his throat, and pressed closer to her. “You got me, Kat. You have well and truly got me…” He hooked his fingers into the top of her dress, never mind the lacings, and pulled it down to her waist. She lifted her arms free of the sleeves, and pressed her full breasts against his torso, savoring the contact of skin on skin as she continued to hold his shirt up out of the way. Then she looked up into his eyes again. “Well,” she said, “are you going to take that damned shirt off, or what?”

He blinked, then grinned and obliged, lifting the tails up over his head and skinning out of the voluminous garment in one sinuous motion. They stood now bare to the waist, his magnificently muscled golden torso pressed to her pale, slightly freckled one some eleven inches closer to the ground. She was at a good height, actually, to apply her mouth to his nipples – and she did so. She sucked at them gently, then tongued them until they stood at attention. Some distance below, his cock had discovered that it had not previously, after all, achieved full rigidity – and it now thrust upward another couple of inches beyond the waistband of his trousers.

Looking down, Katja unfastened the poor over-strained garment and let it slide down past his buttocks, allowing Wyll’s magnificent member to spring free. It towered before her, and she bent her knees to grasp it in both hands, applying her mouth to the head and licking up the salty juices that were oozing from it in anticipation.

Wyll gasped and moaned slightly, more like a sigh, as she began licking him from scrotum to tip, squeezing the shaft in both hands. Once again, that mental image of the imagined Giant woman engulfing his entire erection in one mouthful sprang unbidden to Katja’s mind, and she very nearly broke out laughing as she continued to tease him with her tongue and mouth. Oh, she loved sex play with Wyll! It was always a joyful experience, even when it left her feeling as if she had been run over by an avalanche.

Before she could drive him over the edge, Wyll seized her by the shoulders and lifted her gently up again to kiss her. Then he pushed the dress the rest of the way down, squeezing it past her hips to fall on the floor. As was usually the case with such garments, she was not wearing any underwear beneath it and now stood naked before him. He took her hand as she stepped gracefully out of the pool of fabric, then led her toward the bed. Along the way, his trousers also fell to the floor and were kicked aside.

“Have a seat, love,” he said quietly. Katja sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. His angelic face looked down at her with love, his towering erection almost in her face. Then he knelt on the carpet beside the bed, and took her in his arms again. Her legs were spread wide to allow him to get closer, and that rigid cock was now pressed up against her sex, hot and pulsing. As he kissed her, squeezing her round breasts with his huge hands and thumbing her nipples into tingling excitement, Katja felt as if she might come on the spot, no penetration needed.

But Wyll had more tricks up his sleeve. He bent now, resting his buttocks on his heels as he hugged her thighs with his arms and lowered his head to her quivering cunt. He began working his tongue within her folds, using his mouth and fingers to inflame her still more. “Augh! Wyll, yes!” she cried, lying back and pressing both hands on his golden head as he brought her quickly to the orgasm that had been building within her almost the entire time since they came down the ladder. She bucked and spasmed on the bed, thrusting her crotch into his face, as a gush of warm, slightly salty fluid flowed into his mouth and he drank it like the finest wine.

His manhood leapt still higher as she climaxed, eager for its own release. But as Wyll got older, he was finding it easier to postpone that release – making it all the sweeter when it came at last. The orgasm might be the ultimate prize in this game of love, but getting there was more than half the fun. Now that his beloved had melted beneath the onslaught of his tongue, he was ready to take her with his cock. As Kat lay flat on the bed, panting, he crouched at the bedside and entered her, slowly and carefully.

Wyll had never had trouble with Kat holding him, and wasn’t expecting any now. But his wide experience with women of all stripes had taught him to use caution. Besides, there was a great deal of pleasure to be had pushing it in a little bit at a time, maybe pulling out a little, then going in a little bit more. Until, if he was lucky, it was all the way in, his full length enclosed in that hot, wet crevice. Kat certainly seemed to appreciate it.

Katja threw her legs up around Wyll’s hips, meeting his thrusts. That huge cock filled her so completely, hot and demanding. In what seemed like moments she was coming again, screaming his name; but he still managed to hold off. Was Wyll getting more sophisticated with age? She had, at times, experienced him as an ingenious lover with remarkable restraint; but his usual style was one of unbridled passion combined with amazing physical strength and stamina.

She let her legs drop to the surface of the bed, clutching Wyll tight with her arms, as she struggled to get her breath back after the latest mind-bending orgasm. Her vaginal spasms still gripping him like a fist, he stopped stroking for a few moments to let her recover. “Oh Wyll, Wyll…” she breathed. The things he did to her! Her eyes looked deep into his, her love shining naked within them. The wine still fuzzed her mind a little, and she felt as if it would soon be time for sleep. But she thought she knew how she could bring about a satisfactory conclusion for all concerned.

He looked at her expectantly, awaiting her command. “Let me up,” Katja murmured. He obediently fell back, releasing her from the enormous weight of his body. His cock jutted above her, swollen and glistening. “Purple-headed love god” indeed! She tucked her legs up and scooted further up the bed, then turned around and got onto her hands and knees, crawling toward the headboard. She knelt there, her hands gripping the bedstead, legs slightly spread and her rounded rump thrust toward him, her swollen and soaking-wet cunt winking at him from between her thighs. Then she swiveled her head to look back at him over her shoulder, smiled beguilingly, and said “Come and get me, sweetheart!”

Now there was an invitation Wyll was not likely to refuse. Kat’s cunt a homing beacon, his cock fairly dragged him to the target like an excited hunting dog on a leash. In moments he was within her again, getting penetration to the fullest, the head of his engorged member bouncing off her cervix as he thrust faster and faster. His powerful hands gripped her buttocks, pulling himself to her as the searing passion that the evening’s food and wine had deferred seized him at last. Katja took one hand off the bedstead and put it between her legs, massaging her clit in a fury as Wyll exploded like a volcano within her, and she along with him.

Wyll stayed kneeling behind her, still stroking, as his cock and her cunt pulsed in unison and a hot ocean of his seed filled her to the brim and dribbled out around the edges. Then he just bent his upper body over hers, clutching her to him, his arms wrapped around her torso and clasping her breasts, his mouth kissing her neck, her hair, her spine.

Both of them weak-kneed, they soon toppled over onto their sides and lay on the bed spooning, still joined, until their breathing had returned to normal and his cock, now completely spent, had softened and slipped from within her. They lay like that for a while longer, then Katja rotated in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck, kissing him deeply.

After that she tucked her head beneath his chin and contented herself with gently stroking his chest, occasionally applying a tender kiss to his collarbone or whatever patch of him (and there was so much of him) presented itself. She felt saturated with love, swimming in a sea of it, surrounded by it as Wyll’s strong arms surrounded her body. Her relaxation was so complete, it was not long before she began to drift off to sleep. Her last conscious thought was, “I don’t ever want to give this up…”


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