“The seed of a god, huh?” I couldn’t help but grin. “I think I like where you’re going with this ceremony thing.”
“Lie down on your back on the bearskin,” she instructed. “There is no reason to delay any longer.”
I lay down on the white fur. “No, I don’t think there is.”
Desire blazing in her eyes like the roaring flames in the hearth, Friya cast her cloak off and stood gloriously nude before me. She walked over, her huge breasts bouncing and jiggling with every step. Blood rushed to my cock as she squatted down next to me, giving me a mouth-wateringly clear view of her sex. Her pale pink lips glistened with the wetness of her own arousal.
“Lie still,” she said. “Do not move.”
I chuckled. “If you say so.”
While the rest of me was lying prone, my cock certainly wasn’t. Soon, the big fella was standing as tall and proud as he ever did.
Friya took a small bottle of some sort of oil from a nearby table, poured a small amount in her hands, and knelt down next to my shoulder. With her huge breasts hanging close to my face, I dipped my head forward to get a mouthful of nipple, but she gently pushed my head back.
“No, Vance,” she said. “For the ceremony, I need you to lie absolutely still. This is how it must be done.”
“All right,” I answered, disappointed but intrigued at the same time.
She started rubbing my body down with the fragrant-smelling oil, starting with my shoulder muscles, then moving on to my chest. Her breasts were draped over me, and her stiff nipple pressed into my cheek, agonizingly close to my mouth. As tempting as it was to simply turn my head and fondle it with my tongue, I resisted. This was, after all, supposed to be some sort of sacred ceremony, so I figured I’d best respect that.
“Your muscles are hard and strong,” Friya purred as she massaged me, “like the muscles of our own warriors. You are a ferocious warrior, are you not?”
“As fierce as they come.” I grunted as she massaged my chest.
Friya started tracing her fingertips teasingly over my stomach, and a rush of hot blood surged into my prick, stiffening it even further. Friya stared at it, her eyes wide with hunger and surprise at the size of it.
“I never imagined that the penis of a southerner could dwarf those of the biggest men of Hothgrum,” she murmured, her eyes locked on it as her hands drifted toward its base. “I am going to enjoy this ceremony very, very much.”
Friya slipped her oiled-up hands around my shaft and slowly glided up the whole thing, marveling all the while at its size and hardness. She did it extremely slowly the first time, letting me feel the pressure over my entire length. Once she had oiled my prick, she started stroking it, moving her hands up and down with delectable slowness while murmuring out a chant in her barbarian language. Whatever oil she was using was adding a pleasant tingle and warmth to the experience.
This was a ceremony I had no trouble getting into.
Soon she started moving her hands with increased pressure and vigor. Her strokes were still light but also strong and quick enough to send tingles rushing through me. This Wise Woman knew how to use her hands, all right. Her big tits and juicy pussy, which was dripping so much, I could actually hear her wetness hit the bear fur, were achingly close. All I wanted to do was bury my face in them, but I reminded myself that I was partaking in a sacred ritual. As tempting as it was to take charge here and show Friya how much of a man I really was, I managed to restrain myself.
Friya was still murmuring her chants in her native tongue, but they were interspersed with involuntary gasps of arousal and pleasure. It seemed that she too was having a bit of a tough time restraining herself. As she handled my cock, she started gyrating her hips, as if she was already riding it. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to reach out and slip a finger or two into her tight slit.
It seemed I wouldn’t have to wait too long to get a sense of just how heavenly that pussy felt though.
“I must proceed with the next part of the ceremony,” Friya gasped, her pale face flushed red with the intensity of her arousal. “Stay still now…”
Friya gracefully turned around, straddled me, gripped my cock to direct it into her, and then slowly started lowering herself onto it. The moment the head of my prick squeezed its way into her tight sex, a jolt of energy rushed through me. Perhaps something magical really was going on with this ceremony.
As she slid lower and lower, Friya gasped out exclamations of what had to be sheer bliss. Finally, with a gasp and a slackening of her entire taut body, I was all the way inside her. She then started riding me slowly, and I couldn’t believe the immensity of the restraint I was exercising in not reaching up and grabbing those huge tits as they bounced with every gyration of her hips. She started riding me vigorously, rubbing herself with one hand and crying out in her barbarian language as waves of ecstasy coursed through her veins.
I stretched her out from the inside, her walls cushioning me and filling my cock with heat. Friya started moaning and tossing her beautiful mane of white-blond hair around, riding my cock at an almost frenetic pace and rubbing herself just as eagerly. I could see that she was about to climax and grinned, laughing with joy at the glorious sight of this gorgeous tattooed woman driving herself wild on my rod.
Friya threw her head back and cried out, arching her back as far
