1. From the Mists


    Date: 9/16/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: MissFrottage, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    surer guide, the growing sound of water over the shifting pebbles, the change in smell as the air lost the smell of pine, the feeling of the ground under feet, changing from rich earth, to pebbles and sand. A soft wind loosened a frame of curls around her face as her toes found the water. She tried to peer deep into the shrouded landscape, imagining she could make out the horizon and the mountains around her. Perhaps the fog was lifting, or perhaps her memory was filling in the gaps her senses could not perceive. She stood in silence as she did every morning, hearing and seeing nothing more than the day before. Her shoulders sloped inward as she turned back towards home, the fog finally revealing the world around her. It was then she saw the shadow emerging over the water in the rising mists. It was him. It had to be. Her breath shallowed, and her eyes strained. The shadow of him continued to grow larger and more defined though the details of his face remained obscured. She recognized the broadness of his shoulders as he rowed towards her, the shape of him slowly growing larger and larger. It was more as if she was watching a bear appear out of the mist than a man. The sounds of his even strokes became louder and she began to drink in the sight of his face as his features emerged out of the grayness. She took in his eyes that changed color like the sea between a sunny and cloudy day. She saw his strong, stern brow and his square set jaw with his rougish half smile. For his ...
    size and strength, he very gracefully slipped out of the boat and walked it ashore, the water rising barely to his knees. He stood before her. She could smell the salt of the ocean on his furs and in his beard and hair. "Wife," he said. The anticipation and longing for this moment caused her knees to tremble under her. For so long, the only relief from her loneliness were her dreams of him which abruptly ended each and every morning with a renewed sense of longing and impatience. Her body had ached for his touch, missed his rough hands across her body. Felt her sex dampen when she caught a lingering scent of him in her bed. And now, he was here before her again; the smell of him, the heat of him, the strength of him. He took her face in his rough, calloused hands and raised her face to his. His thumb scratched across her cheek and caused a shiver to run down her spine. She felt his chapped lips against her own, parting her mouth. She drank in his breath and pushed against his tongue with hers. Her hands gripped onto the furs he wore over his shoulders and he lifted her by the waist with one arm. His other hand found her ankle and ran his hand along the back of her leg pushing her dress upwards. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed her hips against his belt. Her wet sex made the crotch of his pants damp and through the fabric she could feel his manhood pulsing against her. He carried her home. He set her down at the foot of the bed, their eyes locked. He shrugged off ...
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