It began to occur to Chrystobel what was about to happen. The moment was upon them, the moment that should have occurred on the day they married but didn’t. Instead of being fearful, she was actually quite curious. She gazed up at Keller expectantly only to see that he was removing his tunic and wet mail, so she thought that perhaps she should remove her clothes also. Wasn’t that what one did when consummating a marriage? Although no one had ever really spoken to her about the ways between men and women, at least not seriously, she had heard servants speak on it more than once. Naked flesh against naked flesh, they had said. A man’s male member between a woman’s legs, causing babies to be born. Aye, she knew all of that. It was time to create a baby, a son for Keller, so she sat up on the mattress and reached behind her, unfastening the stays of the surcoat.
As she stood up to remove it, Keller was already half-undressed. His mail hauberk and tunic had come off, leaving him naked from the waist up. Silently, he reached out to help Chrystobel by lifting her surcoat over her head, leaving her clad only in her shift and stockings. He tossed back the coverlet on the bed and Chrystobel removed her shoes and stockings, completely ignorant of the fact that this was supposed to be an intimate and pleasant experience as much as it was an experience to create a child. No one had ever told her it was supposed to be pleasurable. Therefore, she was looking at it all rather logically. She climbed into the bed, gazing up at him with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.
“Are we to create a child now?” she asked rather frankly. “If that is the case, then you will have to tell me what to do. I do not know that much about it other than what the servants have told me.”
Keller gazed down at her, a smile playing on his lips. “You are already doing all you need to do,” he told her. “Getting the woman into the bed is the most difficult part.”
She cocked her head curiously. “It is?” she asked, confused. “It is simply a matter of climbing onto the mattress. I fail to see what is so difficult.”
Keller scratched his head in a marginally awkward gesture. “It was a jest,” he muttered. “Not to worry. I shall take over from here.”
“You will let me know if I need to do anything.”
“I’ll be sure to.”
With that, Keller sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to her, and pulled off his big boots. Then, he unfastened his breeches and swiftly pulled them off. He pulled the coverlet up and over him as he slid into the bed, covering himself up to the chest. Chrystobel was still sitting next to him, realizing that he was now completely nude beneath the covers and she was not. Pulling the shift up over her head, she tossed it to the floor whilst pulling the coverlet up to her neck as she lay down beside Keller.
So they lay there, side by side, as she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for him to make the first move. Keller, who had never made love to a woman that he hadn’t paid for the privilege, rolled onto his side so he could look at her. Every woman he had bedded had taken the aggressive role and he’d simply gone along for the ride. Given that Chrystobel had never done this before, he was going to have to be the aggressor. He hoped he didn’t scare the woman off with his bumbling attempts.
Leaning over, he kissed her naked shoulder, the only thing that was peering out from the top of the coverlet other than her head. Her skin was warm and soft, and she smelled faintly sweet. Then, a big hand snaked under the covers and cupped her left breast, feeling her jump with surprise at his action. Her breast was warm and soft, too, and he was instantly and madly aroused as he fondled her. From one breast to the other, he squeezed gently and caressed, pinching her nipples and feeling her quiver in response. It excited him so much that he buried his head beneath the coverlet, which was still pulled up to her neck, and began suckling her nipples.
His hot, wet mouth on her breasts caused Chrystobel to gasp, first in shock but then in pleasure. She could never have imagined a sensation like this, something that made her entire body tremble and liquid heat to race through her limbs. His mouth was aggressive, moving from breast to breast as his hand kneaded the tender flesh of her belly and upper thighs. His roving hand seemed to be everywhere as he nursed against her breasts which, with her limited knowledge, were only used to nourish babies, but Keller was nursing against them hungrily for his own needs. It was wanton and exciting.
As he continued to suckle her breasts, his roving hand moved to the junction between her legs, pulling her left leg towards him and parting her thighs. A big finger began to stroke the outside of her Venus mound and Chrystobel actually had to put a hand over her mouth because she was startled, embarrassed, and aroused all at the same time. Her head was filled with muddled mists, fogging her brain until she couldn’t think a clear thought. All she could see to do was feel, to experience, as Keller grew bolder. Suddenly, the finger that had been stroking her was now inside her, invading her private folds, and she drew her knees up, gasping in response.
Her hissing reaction was all Keller needed to roll is big body on top of hers, his head coming out from beneath the coverlet and his mouth fusing to hers. He kissed her furiously, his tongue forcing her teeth apart as it ravaged her. The finger inside her body, stroking her, was joined by a second finger, thrusting into her, making her wet and heated, before abruptly withdrawing. Keller was still kissing her aggressively when he placed his manhood against her swollen, wet folds and thrust into her virginal body.
It was a sharp and startling action, and Chrystobel tore her mouth away from his, gasping with the pleasure-pain of it. There was a slight stinging sensation but nothing more as he thrust again, seating himself fully into her tender, quivering body. He was a big man, with a very big member, and Chrystobel squirmed beneath him, unaccustomed to a man’s body inside of hers. But Keller’s senses were heightened, his sense of passion and lust boiling over, and as Chrystobel gasped and squirmed, he began the ancient primal rhythm of mating.
His thrusts were big and painful at first. Unaccustomed as she was, Chrystobel grunted with every thrust, struggling not to gasp aloud at the sensual intrusion. Keller’s lips had moved to her neck, her shoulders again, nibbling on her flesh and causing bolts of excitement to race down her limbs. But the more he thrust, the more her body relaxed, and before she realized it, she was coming to respond to him.