The Barmaid & The Blacksmith

Chapter One “Ooo Jerud!” Fiona giggled as Jerud’s hands went under her long brown skirt. She wiggled about, feeling his warm palm on her upper thigh. The more she squirmed, the higher his fingers went along the thin fabric of her underclothes. “You beast!” she blared, as she felt him at the top of the garment, about to pull at the drawstring. “Unhand her!” A gravely voice bellowed from behind them both, and Fiona and Jerud turned their shocked faces toward a mountain of a man in a long black coat and shiny knee high boots, wearing a threatening scowl on his full bearded face. Tempestuous eyes stared out from a countenance that suggested a past filled with all manner of experience, from the blissful to the dangerous. He was an appalling sight. Jerud’s hand dropped from Fiona’s waist, the sound of the man’s voice, whether he had any real authority or not, sent a shock of fear through the younger man. Jerud, a bright blonde man of nearly twenty-five years was hardly cowed by anything; but this curious blackguard was something to behold. Fiona rushed from Jerud’s side. “I’ll be right back,” she told him. And with an empty tray in hand, she returned to the bar for more ale. The bearded scowling man nodded at her as she passed. “I’ll be serving you next, sir,” she told him. Returning to her finance and his friends with their refreshment, she tried to make a swift exit, though Jerud’s hand was attempting to fondle her again. “Stop that!” she whispered. “Behave yourself!” “That man has no right to tell me what to do with my bride,” he exclaimed. “I’m not your bride, yet,” she reminded him. “I have to go, I’ve work to do.” “You mind your manners, you hear?” Jerud warned. “Or I’ll give you what for with my belt.” Fiona ignored Jerud’s comment and returned to her would be rescuer, who was sitting in an out of the way corner of the Half Moon Tavern. “May I help you, sir?” she asked him pleasantly. “A lady should watch herself with a man,” he told her, brusquely. “He is my finance,” she informed him. He looked at her circumspect, then at the chuckling Jerud, then back at the robust Fiona McTavish. Her flaming red hair was piled atop her head in lose curls that framed an eager face. Her green eyes glittered like stars, her soft bosom expanded as she breathed; the sumptuous in and out made the flesh jiggle just slightly. She had a curvaceous youthful body with a small waist and generous hips, that he could well imagine without the pile of skirts that stopped at her tiny bootclad feet. “Nonetheless, miss, you should watch yourself with any man who would take advantage of you like that in a public place.” “I assure you, sir, Jerud is harmless,” she countered. She cast the man a flirtatious smile, even as she thought of Jerud and she in bed. “If he only knew.” “I thank you for your words of warning. Can I bring you anything?” “Some ale,” he said. “Some bread and stew.” “Right away, sir.” She seemed to skip as she moved away. Hardly eighteen, he thought. She was the kind of lusty wench he loved to bed; but her youth and innocence suggested she needn’t give herself away easily. She had a gracious charm that made her even more appealing to him than other young women of her station. It was as if she would somehow naturally rise above the mundane circumstances of her life. But why she was marrying the bawdy young man at the far side of the room, he could well understand; women of her standing had few choices in their lives. It was such a shame. She could make a remarkable companion, and likely an avid lover. *** When they were in their private room that night, Jerud descended on Fiona, raising her skirt, his hand instantly swacking her fleshy ass with a sharp staccato of smacks. “Ouch! What are you doing, you bloody bastard?” she roared, jerking away from him. He hauled her back and sitting down on the bed this time, he flung her over his lap. “Stop it!” she howled in protest, though a stronger Jerud spanked her anyway. “This is what you get for flirting, my lusty wench!” “Jerud stop!” But he wasn’t stopping, the longer he smacked her, the more enthused he was by the sight her bobbing red ass, the more he smacked her harder yet. “I’ll teach you to flaunt yourself at other men!” “I was not!” she protested. “Just to make sure,” he advised her. Flailing her arms and kicking her legs, she finally threw herself off Jerud’s lap and landed on the floor with a rude jerk, her sore bottom hitting the wood hard. “You have no right to do that,” she scowled. “Indeed I do,” he said looking at her sternly, though his expression was quickly changing into an exuberant smile. “You look mighty sassy, my Fi, so flustered and all hot. Your cheeks are scarlet, as I suppose your fine arse is.” He snickered. “Don’t you laugh at me!” she snapped. “And why shouldn’t I?” he joked. He pulled her eye to eye with him, his hands beginning another kind of journey over her tempting female treasures. She tried for a moment to push away, from him, but found the tantalizing rush that roared through her too much to resist. “So, tell me, my love, what did the bastard say?” Jerud purred to her as he drew her back on the bed with him. He pulled his fiancee over his reclining body, his hands pulling at the strings of her blouse. He was looking for her breasts to swing loose out over him, so he could press his face against them. “He thought I should act more like a lady,” she told him with a twinkle in her eyes. “He was hardly a bastard, much more a gentleman.” “Gentleman, my ass!” Jerud exclaimed. “He’s a bloody blacksmith!” He had Fiona’s breasts free, his mouth bringing a pink n****e to his mouth. He sucked it hard. “Ouch!” she cried. “You’re hurting me.” It wasn’t much of a protest. She loved the way he turned her baby soft n*****s into hard purple buds. He took handfuls of her flesh and pressed his face into the warm sweet smelling cushion. She must have pressed a honeysuckle bud to her skin, for that was the smell of her body; the lovely earthy fragrance tickled his nose with a spring time lusty fervor. “You don’t treat me like a lady!” Fiona remarked, with a little petulant pout. She was suddenly sitting back on his groin. Even through her skirt, she could feel the familiar manhood rising under her, and her hot bottom squirmed excitedly against it, as she delivered the gentle admonishment. “I never asked you to be a lady, just my wife,” Jerud told her. He watched her naked breasts swing against her torso. “Come here, you luscious brat,” he encouraged her, as he drew her toward him again, her breasts at last dangling over his mouth. His hands moved to her waist and he pulled at the skirt, tugging to get it down so he could have her naked against him. With a hearty shove, he had her hips free, and he pulled the skirt away, tossing it to the floor. As his mouth explored her full soft lips, his hand dove deeper to uncover the fine puss between her legs. His hands were eager to have her, as he’d had her almost nightly for the last two months. When she at last gave into him, she gave in completely, withholding nothing. All of her fine treasures were his to enjoy. And her body bestowed on him such pleasures, with such ease. He thought he touched heaven. That two people could do the things they did together amazed him. Feeling for the center of her s*x, Jerud stroked the feather soft plush hair of her pubis. Tugging the hair gently, she wriggled against his hand with a lilting moan of pleasure sprinkling the air with her fresh joy. He fingered her deep, where she was succulent and wet, and then pulling his hand from her cunt, he tasted her sweet juice. “You are a nasty man!” she purred at him. He held her ass as he explored her punished cheeks fully, then moved to inside of her thighs and the deep crevice of her rear, with its two tight holes. He couldn’t wait to plant himself in the lovely forward one that danced and bobbed before his eyes with a gleeful abandon. “Ah, my love,” she was whispering contentedly, as his c**k then slipped inside her warm pulsing hole. She immediately squeezed down on the thick shaft, watching the wince appear on his face, as his body replied to the welcoming gesture. He was hard, thick and filling, going readily to the very depths of her female home. A tiny pain shot through her, as each thrust made him hit the bottom of the channel; though it was only more fuel for the rising sensations that claimed her entire body. Jerud watched her gently swaying form as it moved with such grace, the effect of her movement made his already stimulated c**k surge all the more with the driving need. Her eyes held that dark aspect he loved so well in her, the way she vibrated with an earthy fire. Such carnal zeal! The more he pumped her, the more she pumped him back, fast creating a climax in them both. Jerud let her take control as he always did with her on top. She maneuvered her own body to the edge, letting her pulsing p***y play its games, her hard outer bud massaged until it was ready to explode. On this day, they would almost orgasm simultaneously. His cry was invigorating, the groaning sound that emerged from his throat and lips rose raucously into the air around them. And like inspiration from the heavens, or the earth, as the case might be, Jerud’s cry sent the final jolt through Fiona’s clamoring body. Her groan was softer, in time with the rude jerking back and forth that finished off this making love. Fiona collapsed against Jerud’s sweating chest, their juices mingling in the bristling thereafter. She swayed against him ever so gently as his hand stroked her moist flesh. Feeling the curve of her body at the waist and the swelling hips and buttocks, they clenched just a little when he caressed them. Though the warmth of her spanking had died away, he reminded them both of the spontaneous assault. “You are a divine creature,” he told her quietly. “You were suppose to withdraw,” she said very kindly, though her comment was pointed. “Ah! So what if you should get pregnant, we’re going to be married in little more than two weeks.” “It was nice to have you finish inside me,” she said, as she knew it would also be nice not to have to take chances with their lovemaking in the future. “It won’t matter love, we’ll have a passel of children, and I’ll screw you every night, and hold you when the babies come.” “And spank me too, I suppose?” “Only when you need it. A good wife knows her place, and you will too, my love.” A good wife! Such a thought! Pondering her fate with Jerud, Fiona was wise enough to know that half of what he said was pure nonsense. If she kept her figure, and if she hadn’t turned into a haggard shrew of a wife, she might find him, in a year or two, still loyal to her in bed. He was an exuberant man, bold, eager and very adventurous. And she had no illusions about him. But even so, marrying him, tying herself to his fortunes was a very good thing. He was a good man at heart, and at least while it lasted, he was glorious between these sheets, even if he liked to spank her. She smiled to herself happily.