Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction and is based primarily on the fictional country of Nordland, a small island nation in the North Sea between the UK, Norway, and Denmark. All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All comments and feedback are welcomed.
HF
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It was a little after 9.30am on Saturday morning when the doorbell rang, and Astrid quickly made her way to open the front door. Standing there was Marcus, his usual charming little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hey" he said.
"Hey there" she replied, smiling back. "I've been waiting for you."
"Can I come in then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows as he took in the sight of Astrid dressed in her casual weekend clothes, a far cry from the corporate attire that he normally saw her in, or out, of at work and in their illicit encounters. She was wearing a soft blue chunky knit sweater and a pair of dark wash jeans. She'd removed the ankle boots she'd been wearing when she took Ingrid to her friend's birthday party that morning, and she had white sports socks on her feet.
"Please," Astrid replied, looking forward to the next several hours alone with Marcus while Ingrid was out at her friend's party and Erik was ice-fishing up in the mountains behind Nordhaven with some old school friends. Marcus didn't need any more prompting than that and stepped through the door. He was dressed casually in a warm, winter jacket, jeans, and winter hiking boots.
She knew this was incredibly wrong and terribly risky, but she needed to see Marcus again -- they needed to discuss what to do with their on-going affair. After arriving back from London on Thursday evening, Astrid had been a wreck, but she found herself craving the risk, the excitement, she found in Marcus's arms.
Little did either of know but Marcus's arrival and entry into Astrid's house had been observed by several sets of eyes from a nondescript van parked across the road. One of the men seated in the back, peering at a TV screen that displayed the front of Astrid's house in high-definition clarity, picked up a phone and dialed a number. "
Gospozha
..."
"Nice place you have here..." Marcus said, looking around the hallway as Astrid closed the door behind him. He glanced at the photos on the walls of the hallway -- family photos, vacation pictures, school photos of Ingrid and, at the center of the wall, Astrid and Erik's wedding photo. He glanced at it in passing as he moved further into the hallway. Damn, she's hot enough now in her late thirties, she was really stunning back then, he thought to himself.
He turned on his heel to face her. "So, did you want to talk or...care to give me the tour first...?" he said with a suggestive grin.
"Oh...so it's a tour that you want...?" she replied with a little grin. "Let's see...where to begin..."
*****
The Saturday morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Astrid's bedroom, casting a soft glow over the room. Their clothes were scattered haphazardly across the carpeted floor, remnants of a passionate morning that had only just begun for them. Had Erik or Ingrid returned home that would have been shocked to see their wife and mother moving atop Marcus with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her pale hips moving slowly and sensuously against his dark hands that gripped her firmly, guiding her motions. She was clearly relishing the feeling of him deep inside her, enjoying the exquisite stretch and fullness of his thick, black cock.
An hour earlier, they had started their Saturday morning encounter with a frenzied bout of lovemaking, Marcus plunging into her with an urgency that had made her scream and moan, her cries echoing through the house. She had begged him to cum inside her, to knock her up, losing herself in the intense pleasure and the raw, primal connection between them. Marcus had obliged, filling her womb with his potent African seed as she climaxed hard, her body trembling with the force of her release. Temporarily sated, they had collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily, grinning at the taboo nature of their desires.
Now, they were taking it slower, prolonging the encounter. Astrid had sucked Marcus back to full hardness after their brief rest, and now she was riding him with a deliberate, stately, rhythm as if she was a Nordic queen riding her dark horse. She ground herself down onto him, feeling his glans press firmly against her cervix, sending shivers of pleasure and pain through her entire body.
"Do you like that, baby...?" she whispered, her voice low and sultry as she clenched her vaginal muscles around his length. He filled her up in a way she couldn't describe; it felt perfect, like she was made for him, a slick velvet glove that encased his black cock.
Marcus nodded, his dark hands reaching up to cup her pale breasts, his fingers lightly tweaking her pink nipples. "You're so good...so tight...I could stay here forever...inside my little snow-bunny..." he moaned, his voice thick with desire.
Astrid smiled down at him, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "It's a good thing I took my pill this morning..." she moaned. "I can't afford to have you knock me up...no matter how much I know you'd like to..." she whispered with a naughty smile.
They slowed down their movements, wanting to prolong the encounter as much as possible. Astrid rocked back and forth on Marcus's cock, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. They were both keenly aware of the time constraints; Astrid had to leave to collect Ingrid from the party at 4 PM, but until then, they were determined to make the most of their time together.
"When do you have to leave to collect Ingrid?" Marcus asked, his voice a low rumble as he watched Astrid move above him.
"Not until 4.00..." she moaned, her head falling back as another wave of pleasure washed over her.
"Good..." he replied, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Because I've got at least another load in me for you..."
Astrid's heart raced at his words, the thought of him filling her again sending a fresh surge of arousal through her body. She continued to ride him, their pace unhurried as they savored each moment. Marcus's hands roamed over her pale body, caressing her breasts, her waist, her thighs, amplifying her pleasure with every touch.
They moved together in a slow, sensuous dance, their bodies perfectly attuned to each other. Astrid's moans filled the room, mingling with Marcus's deep groans of pleasure. She felt him twitch inside her, a reminder of the intense climax that was still to come.
"You're amazing, Astrid," Marcus whispered, his hands gripping her hips tighter as she ground down onto him. "I can't get enough of you..."
Astrid's breath hitched, her body trembling with the intensity of her arousal. "I need you, Marcus...I need you so much..."
He responded by thrusting up into her, meeting her movements with slow, deliberate strokes that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her core. Astrid's fingers dug into his chest, her nails leaving red marks on his dark skin as she rode him harder, their pace quickening ever so slightly.
"Yes...just like that..." she panted, her eyes locking with his. "Don't stop..."
