The Earth King’s Bounty

by Cordova Skye

  When she came back to herself the god had caught her in truth, hands spread across the small of her back, effortlessly holding her and easing her still trembling body down to the churned ground beneath them. The heat still curled within her - her breasts felt heavy, their tips tight and peaked where they rubbed against his flesh as he slid her down, the touch making her shudder as her sex throbbed.

  Sun warmed earth pressed against her back, the scent of fresh dirt clean and heady but unable to wash away the thicker scent of bodies and sex that clung between them. She caught handfuls of the earth between her fingers as broad hands pushed her thighs apart, pressing up and in until her hips lifted, her spine curved and her still aching sex was bared to the blue sky above and to the dark, heated gaze of the god that pinned her beneath him. Ninia shuddered with the sensation, feeling the burn of the stretch through her thighs, the way it spread the lips of her sex open beneath his eyes, and the way her core was still clenching hungrily in arrhythmic bursts punctuated with hot, wet pulses that trickled wet and warm down the crease of her ass.

  Eyes of jade and earth caught hers, the wild heat in his gaze forcing her to watch, unable to look away, as he slowly lowered himself down between her widespread thighs. Thrust out before him, his cock touched her sex before any of the rest of him, the thick, heavy weight of it coming to rest like a heated iron bar across the open lips of her mound. It rested there between them, the huge flushed tip spearing upwards almost as though it rose from the wet curls of her own sex, as though it might belong to either of them, a shared secret of pleasure nestled between the cup of their joined bodies.

  He let her thighs go, let her legs fold naturally around the angles of his waist as though they belonged there, captor and captured. His hands came to rest in the thick dirt at her sides as he leaned forward, blocking out the sun above her, the brightness of it casting a halo of light all around the ridges and curls of his braided vines. His lips curved in a smile, then curled further to bare white teeth and the tip of his tongue as he drew in a slow, deep breath through his mouth. "My queen," he rasped, and it was no imagination on her part that put that rough, breathless note to his voice, "will you open the way?"

  It wasn't one of the ritual phrases, nothing that had been passed down to each maiden, nothing that she knew how to respond to. But as he said it he moved, pressing up against her in a smooth stroke that dragged the length of his cock up over her sex, a long rasp of fire up her spine as he rubbed himself between her open lips and against the nub of her clit. The head of his cock wetly nudged the skin above her navel, the long, heavy breadth of him pressing her from sex to halfway up her stomach, more than half the length and thickness of her own forearm.

  He repeated it, a slow thrust, press, and rocking motion that made Ninia cling to him, her legs wrapped around his hips, pressing up into each stroke. By the time she caught the rhythm of it, her whole body undulating unconsciously with the motion, his cock gleamed wetly between them. The dusky shade of his skin was deeper still and wet with her desire. Watering the fields, she thought as she watched his shaft surge up across her belly and retreat once more, her whole sex burning with the need for more. The glistening head that nudged at her belly was wet, pearly beads of dew welling up from the tip. Her breath came ragged and it wasn’t enough any more just to lay beneath him, moving with him. Digging her shoulders into the dirt, she pressed her heels to the small of his back and lifted herself up more, curling, to chase after his next thrust.

  His nostrils flared, something like a growl escaping him as his cock slipped upwards between the dripping lips of her sex, the width of him spreading her wide around his girth. If he had been slick before, now he was soaked; Ninia cried out, panting, feeling the wet rush through her cunt as she rocked her hips upwards to grind her sex in hard strokes against the underside of his erection. The fire was burning through her again, she couldn't have stopped if she had wanted to, but wanting to was the last thing on her mind with white hot streaks of pleasure flaring up from her core. Harder and harder - she was the one thrusting against him now, rubbing and squirming as though her hips had a mind of their own, her breath coming in little sharp pants like an animal trapped at bay.

  The god of the fields opened his mouth, teeth bared in a fierce white row, a sound like a groan rising up from deep in his chest. His hands came down on Ninia's arms to pin her to the dirt as he surged over her, his thrusts hard and fast, cock slapping her cunt and belly with wet sounds as he rutted against the wet mound of her sex. Clear drops of liquid beaded up and dripped down from the slit of his erection and where the head rubbed against her navel it left slick streaks behind that trailed across her skin. Ninia clung to him, the whole of her lower back lifted from the ground, hips snapping up to meet each powerful thrust of his until, with a cry, the fire surged up and over her again, shaking her in its grasp as the sensation built up in her sex exploded.

  Above her, the god continued thrusting for another handful of counts before he, too, stilled. His answering roar was the sound of rocks cracking, the deep chested bellow of a mature stag in the season of rut; he pushed himself between her legs, his cock jerking against her belly as thick ribbons of milky white seed shot from him, splashing hot against her stomach and up across her breasts, droplets of it pooling hot and viscous against her skin. Where it fell she could feel the heat gathering, like droplets and drizzles flung from a half-cooled kettle.

  She was still panting, limp and breathless in the dirt, when he let go of her arms and sat back on his heels between her thighs. His own chest was rising and falling faster but nothing like her gasps, and the strong jut of his erection against her sex was undiminished. His eyes had the heat of sundrenched summer fields in them, the burn of a golden noonday sky reflected from the dark stones of the earth. Reaching out, he pressed one hand just above the mound of her sex, nostrils flaring as he drew in a deeper breath. Ninia held her own breath in her lungs, aching, pinned beneath his gaze and his hands.

  His palm moved up, scooping up the still warm splash of his seed that lay beneath her navel and rubbing it, in a slow, slick circle, across the whole of her lower belly. Ninia sucked in a breath, feeling her still aching cunt clench, heat sinking into her skin. The god gathered up another handful of seed, rubbing it all around her navel; where he rubbed it the milky liquid left only a thin sheen, her skin soaking it in eagerly. "The fields are watered," he told her, his voice rumbling through her in notes she could feel in her bones. He thrust almost gently against the nub of her clit, just hard enough to draw a gasp from her lungs, leaning forward to gather up and spread the splashes of seed that had fallen against her ribs. Everywhere he touched was on fire, a warm, steady glow that lit her from the inside out. "The fields are bared. All that remains is the planting."

  Ninia was almost sobbing by the time he reached her breasts, his large hands gathering them up in his palms, squeezing and rubbing, the last of his seed massaged into each firm young globe. She arched her back to press into his hands, her breath hissing from her; he lowered his head over first one breast, then the other, exhaling a warm gust over the tight pebbled peak of her nipples. His tongue flicked out, painting a wet stripe over one. Ninia grabbed at the vines of his hair, trying to tug him down, but he pulled away with an upwards quirk of his lips. "Not yet, my queen. The fruits aren't ripe yet." His hand squeezed her breast tight, pulling at it, and let go, only to repeat on the other side. "Bloom for me."

  Ninia moaned as he gathered up her breasts, first one, then the other, then back again. His large hands were the skilled touch of a farmer on the tender teats of a young heifer, stroking, coaxing, and the heat that gathered in her breasts and between her legs with each squeeze made her squirm and gasp beneath him. If she had thought her hard pebbled nipples prominent before, it was nothing compared to the proudly upthrust pillars of fiery sensation he tweaked them into, catching them between thumb and forefinger to tug and pinch as his hands squeezed at the flesh of her breasts until she thought she would lose
her mind.

  She felt dwarfed beneath him, pinned by his weight, the press of his powerful body, his sex and his hands. At the same time his gaze on her, steady and full of heat and desire that were almost reverent, made something swell within her; equal, powerful in her own right, his spring and summer queen of the bursting fields and bountiful crop. That heat, caught inside her beneath her breastbone and pooling through her stomach, made her arch into him, surging into the rhythm his hands created. His sex pressed against hers, the heavy globes of his sack rubbing against her wet lips, his erect staff taunting her where it tapped against her belly.

  Her chest was on fire; her breasts felt liquid, molten, filled with an ache that wouldn't subside and a heavy heat that bordered on pain as he caught the jutting tips of her nipples, squeezing, rolling them between thumb and forefinger as he tugged them up and away from her body. Ninia cried out when he let go, feeling the ripple through her flesh as her breasts jostled and settled. They felt heavier, hot and swollen beneath his demanding hands, and she dug her fingers into the loose soil beneath her as he gathered her aching tits up once more. His hand almost engulfed one as he squeezed it, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, igniting the sharp, stinging fire that burst up through her nipple and leapt down to stir the empty, needy ache between her thighs.

  She felt it there, first, the clench and pull in her greedy sex taking on a rhythm all its own, one that rushed hot pleasure up through her belly and spine. Ninia moaned, feeling the wet rush of her own fluids soak her god's flesh, cunt grasping at nothing as the pressure of him against her hard, aching nub and the demanding grasp of his hands tipped her over into another peak of sensation. It was slower than his mouth or his rutting but no less powerful, snatching her breath away as her body caught on fire, blooming for him as he commanded.

  Sensation through her breasts made her cry out, pulsing with that strange heavy feeling in the same rhythm as her sex. It surged through her and burst, at last, from the tips of her breasts in a bright fountain of pleasure that manifested as liquid, thin and milky and warm, that sprayed upwards in tiny streams from her red, swollen nipples.

  The god bent over her, his hot mouth sealing to one breast, and Ninia screamed her pleasure to the sky as he suckled at her. That firm tongue that had wreaked such havoc between her thighs stroked a hot, wet stripe over her nipple, pressing and swirling. Lapping, Ninia thought, and oh, gods and ancestors, he was drinking from her, she could feel him suck and swallow. She could feel her breasts swelling with life, could see the streams of milk that ran down over his fingers and her skin alike as his hand continued to squeeze and milk the tit his mouth wasn't on. The feel was unlike anything she could have imagined, the hot fire of her pleasure peaking and bursting only to swell again as he licked her breast clean and gave his attention to the other. Ninia was sobbing with it, clinging to his broad shoulders, her fingers tangled in the thick vines across his scalp as her whole body convulsed in wave after wave of sensation.

  He drank from her until she thought she might go mad, squeezing and sucking until her tits hurt, an aching throb that was too much and not enough all at once. Her nipples were rock hard swollen peaks, the reddened imprint of his mouth and the marks of his teeth ringing the abused flesh that still wept thin streams of milk every time his massive hands closed around her breasts. The empty ache between her thighs made Ninia cry, writhing against him desperately in her need for more. "Please," she heard her own voice babbling, shameless, "my king, now, now, please..."

  He didn't chide her for begging that time. His mouth came free from her breast with a wet sucking sound, his lips and chin wet with her milk. He licked it away languidly and Ninia moaned, watching the god's tongue curl over his lips and remembering how it had felt licking deep between her legs. It made the emptiness inside of her clench, her whole body tightening, and more streams of milk sprung in thin fountains from her upthrust nipples to spatter in droplets over her swollen and aching breasts. Ninia keened from the feel of it, her thighs wrapping around his hips as she arched against him.

  He laughed softly, catching her wrists in his hands and pressing them down to the loose soil as he reared up over her. The press of him against her, his cock a solid burning length against her wet sex, took Ninia's breath away. "Are the fields ready, my queen?" he asked, his deep voice almost teasing. "Tilled, watered, open to the sun - are they ready for planting? Hungry for the seed, ready to bear fruit?"

  "Yes!" Ninia sobbed, her voice a shout to the blue sky above. "Yes, now, my king, now!"

  The sun overhead gilded her god in gold as he leaned up over her, bright rays tracing the broad line of his shoulders. He left her hands pressed into the dirt, his large palms cupping her thighs, pushing them up and out to bare her utterly before him. The thick weight of his hard cock slapped against her sex, the blunt head leaving a clear wet trail of seed against her belly where he was still stiff and eager.

  Ninia felt her breath seize in her lungs as he pushed her thighs even further apart, pressing her into herself until her back was curled, her bared cunt spread open to his gaze. His hips flexed; the heavy length of his cock drew back, the tip sliding between the wet lips of her cunt. Before she could even register the sensation - thick, the hardness of rock covered in petal silken skin - he pushed forward again, the length of him splitting her open as he drove deeply into her.

  Ninia cried out, breathless, as she was stretched wider than her inexperienced imagination had ever envisioned. He was thick; she couldn't breathe around it and he filled her up, thrusting deep inside her in one sudden surge.

  Plowed, the village women called it sometimes, with a smile and a wink or a laugh. Plowed, and the young men and husbands who did it good, who put their backs into it, or were indifferent and lazy at the yoke. It was just a saying, polite enough to be used around little children who didn't know the difference, but Ninia, in that moment, understood exactly where the saying came from. She was the Bride and the strong, virile shape of a man who loomed over her was the god of the earth, the first plowman who churned and seeded all the land, who brought forth life and bounty, and she... she was the field.

  He held for one long moment, letting her feel him, her inner passage quivering around his massive girth on the knife edge between pain and pleasure. One hand came down to press against her belly and Ninia wondered, gasping, if he could feel himself through her skin, so deep was she impaled on his hard cock. He held her there, pinned beneath his hand and gaze, her breath coming in sobs that began in pain and ended in whimpers that begged for more.

  His fingers tightened, pressing into her. "Bloom, my queen," he commanded, as he had for her still dripping breasts, and Ninia cried out as something hot surged through her belly, spreading out from the press of his palm. It heated her from the inside, rushing like liquid down from her navel to her cunt, and when he flexed, his hips dragging his cock from her in a long, slow slide, she felt it manifest and drip down her channel, spilling over the lips of her sex.

  The god inhaled deeply, open mouthed, some of the semblance of mankind melting away under the primal, animal drive that commanded the seasons. He gripped her hips and Ninia could only wail as he rammed back into her, his thick cock swelling impossibly larger within her as the first molten hot spray of divine seed shot deep into her ripe womb. Nor did it stop; he thrust into her with the fury of a wild bull, rough and deep, filling the ache inside her until Ninia couldn't think of anything else. He stretched her to fit him, her body nothing but a receptacle for every spurt of seed that she could feel pulse and shoot inside her. Panting, he rutted into her and Ninia gave herself to it, crying out as he filled her over and over again

  The first wave caught her by surprise, wringing a scream of pleasure from her throat as her body convulsed around the cock splitting her open. Her breasts tightened, thin milky streams spraying from her thickened nipples, and another wave of heat rippled through her belly as he ground into her. She moaned, feeling him pulse inside of her; each short, sharp thr
ust as he fucked into her was accompanied by another wet rush of heat that filled her until she wondered if her belly would enlarge at once as her breasts had, his seed already rooted and growing in her waiting field.

  He slammed into her again and she sobbed, the pleasure making her shake as the hot burst of her orgasm spread through her. He thrust through it, his breath panted through clenched teeth, his hands bruising tight on her hip and thigh as he pounded into her clenching pussy, forcing her pleasure to build up again. She could feel it, she thought wildly - the wet, liquid sloshing of his seed pouring into her, filling her, her belly hot and swelling with every breath.

  Her second orgasm came on a slow wave that grew, and grew, until it crashed into her as she twisted and sobbed, back arched and rutting mindlessly on the hard cock that was setting her on fire. The god bellowed, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force as he sheathed himself fully and Ninia moaned helplessly as she felt him pulse and erupt inside of her, filling her eager womb to its limit.

  "My queen," he panted, his hands smoothing up her hips to stroke over her stomach and for a moment she really did feel it, heavy and swollen with life as he sketched out the gravid shape she would have in months to come. It made her breath catch, her breasts tight, her sex throbbing around him with a deep longing.

  He smiled, feral and wild as the earth he was formed of, his hand pressing warm over her arched up belly. "Beautiful," he said, and it was like a blessing, sweeping warm and welcome through her. He rolled his hips, his cock stroking inside of her, and Ninia shuddered through a shock of pleasure that surged up her spine.