Past Loves Ch. 05b: Bjarka and Hiri

A cool spring rain sprinkled the valley with a fine mist, making walking across the smooth worn cobblestones a dangerous prospect for anyone not wearing hobnailed shoes. In her flat leather bottomed sandals, Hirita tried to keep to the rough mortar between the stones as much as possible to avoid slipping. She held fast to the bundle of stale bread that she had managed to barter from the bakers just as they were closing. The two old loaves had cost her the last of her silver-plated earrings, an extortionate price but one that she had been forced to pay yet again or go hungry for another night.

Ever since the city had been taken over by the new barbarian overlords that everyone referred to as the Visigoths, bread prices had gone up considerably. The new fur-clad groups of yellow-haired tough looking men claimed that they needed every spare sack of grain to feed their foederati armies and defeat the Suebi kingdom to the west. Hirita didn't know if this was true, or whether the barbarians were just taking the grain to feed their own greed, or launching yet more campaigns against the province that they claimed to support. All she knew was that she had slowly been forced to sell, pawn, barter and trade her dwindling jewellery in order to feed herself.

She had once been a young woman of leisure, the only daughter of a respected commander in the Imperial Legions. She lived in a fine townhouse in the middle of a beautiful bustling town at the heart of a rich and prosperous Roman province. She had fine clothes and cosmetics, expensive furniture and decorations, mastercrafted jewellery and enough slaves to tend to her every need. Looking back on it now, her previous life seemed like a distant half-remembered dream. She still lived in the same well-built townhouse but all of the furniture and decorations had long since been looted or smashed and burned for firewood. The slaves had either run away or just been rounded up by the gangs who regularly roved through the unprotected streets. Hirita was lucky to have been spared enslavement herself, although it was always a danger in these uncertain times.

Thankfully she had managed to keep a stash of her valuables hidden from looters and since her father was either dead, missing or enslaved, these hoarded valuables were her only means of supporting herself. For a while she had even been able to keep up appearances, even engaging in a little light charity work with the local church to help those poor and hungry who were less privileged than herself. Now nearly half a year later, even her formerly ample wealth was beginning to run low and she had long since stopped engaging with the church officials who mostly stayed locked in their cloisters.

For her and everyone else of this God-forsaken town, it was every man and woman for themselves. Although the Visigoths imposed some small amount of public order in these streets, it was usually just to stop the locals from getting any funny ideas and organising against them. They made sure that everyone knew the structure of the new power balance and it was one with them on top and everyone else below.

It was for this reason that Hirita tried to look as unnoticeable and unthreatening as possible as she passed by a gang of four Visigoths who were ambling lazily down the street, their dull grey and blue eyes looking around for trouble. One of them cast an eye over Hirita and mumbled something in his foreign tongue to one of his mates, who smirked and grunted back. Hirita had managed to pick up a few words of their language, not enough to tell what they had been saying, but she got the tone and quickened her pace. Thankfully none of the shaggy thugs seemed interested in pursuing her thin wiry form that day.

When she was back in her prime Hirita remembered the looks that many men would cast her way as she walked confidently down the street accompanied by her retainers. She had been a dazzling figure, decked out in her fine blue dress, her ears and fingers covered in gold and silver, with an artist's composition of makeup covering her beautiful face. She had the typical olive-brown skin and dark lustrous hair of the region and her body had been slim but well proportioned, with wide hips and a natural grace to her gait.

Now, whenever she saw her reflection in the muddy puddles which filled the city streets, she sometimes had a hard time recognising herself. She had lost weight that was for sure, and her natural curvy grace had been replaced with a stringy gauntness. Her clothes which had once been fine were now patched and dirty and her long hair was cut short above her shoulders, the easier to brush and clean it. Where once she had worn a confident full-lipped pout, her mouth was now set in a thin unhappy line, determined and singularly focused.

As she rounded the corner onto the street that her house was on she stopped still when she saw what lay up ahead. A large ox cart had been pulled up outside the once empty house next to her own and a couple of large burly men were unloading a collection of bulky looking boxes and packages onto the street. Others were also coming in and out of the building to carry the packages inside. Standing beside them watching them work with her arms crossed and with a slave holding a large parasol above her to keep her out of the rain, was an unfamiliar woman. By the colour of her hair and the fashion of her dress, she was almost certainly a Visigoth. Perhaps she was the daughter or wife of one of the powerful and newly wealthy warlords that had come into the province to 'protect' them. Apparently Hirita had just acquired some unwelcome new neighbours.

Hirita briefly considered walking away and maybe coming back later, or even just walking away completely and never coming back. The thought of going back home to her empty, cold, dust filled townhouse while these new interlopers unloaded their expensive finery into the house next door was one which made her seethe with embarrassed jealousy. But no, she would have to go home some time, her meagre remaining riches were stored beneath a loose tile under the kitchen floor and without them she would have nothing at all left. She would have to face her new neighbours sooner or later.

Taking a deep breath and attempting to remain as unobtrusive as possible, Hirita walked slowly up the street heading for her front door. For a moment she thought that she would be able to make it inside without anyone seeing her but as she approached, the yellow haired Visigothic woman looked up and noticed her approaching.

Hirita was stopped in her tracks for a moment by the surprising force of the woman's dark rimmed lapis-blue eyes which seemed to pierce right into her. Unlike Hirita, her skin was perfectly clean, smooth and a soft pale milky colour. Her dress hung in such a way that her neck lay bare and exposed all the way down to her ample cleavage as well as leaving both of her arms naked in the cool air. Her pale golden hair had long, wavy locks tied into matching plaits on either side of her perfect haughty face. The long dark dress she wore was very similar to the finery which Hirita herself had once been fond of and she saw the distinct glint of silver on her long delicate fingers, and around her neck she wore a fitted collar of black leather which also glinted with silver studs.

Hirita felt the simmering pot of envy inside her wither and turn into something more like awe as she beheld this beautiful woman. She seemed to have everything that she herself had once possessed, wealth, beauty, grace and confidence. It was cruel how time and circumstance could change even the most affluent of circumstances on their heads.

The look on the woman's face was one of casual ease, as if she was looking at Hirita as little more than a stray cat. Something in the dismissive way in which her bright blue eyes passed over her made Hirita's inner self shrivel up even further from the place it had once been. Once she would have been able to look a woman like this in the eye, meeting her as an equal, or even a superior. After all Hirita was a daughter of the great and powerful Roman Empire, and this newcomer was just an interloping barbarian. But a lot had changed in less than a lifetime, and now Hirita's eyes flicked downwards, almost ashamed of what she had become, unable to meet this beautiful dark-clad Visigothic woman in the eye.

She was about to move away and head for her own front door, but as she did, she felt a hand on her shoulder and felt a cold stone of dread drop into her stomach. She looked up and saw that standing behind her was one of the largest, meanest looking men she had ever laid eyes upon. He was a good two-heads taller than her, as wide as a barn door and clad in dark leather armour which seemed to creak and stretch with each breath he took. He wasn't even looking at her, but very definitely held her in place as his eyes were focused on the glamorous woman before the both of them.

As for the woman, she merely continued to appraise Hirita with the same calm and slightly scornful smile that seemed to fit so well on her face. Hirita was very aware of the solid weight of the man's hand on her shoulder, a hand which apparently was at the beck and call of the woman before her.

'No, brother.'

The woman called out to her burly companion. Her voice was soft, but had a distinct thick accent to it, somehow demanding and firm but without the guttural harshness that she had gotten used to hearing from the Visigothic men in the city. By contrast it sounded almost musical coming from the lips of this woman.

'This is no way to treat our new neighbour. We are honoured guests and protectors of this town. We want to make a good impression on them.'

Hirita felt the heavy hand lift from her shoulder and the massive edifice behind her stepped back. The glamorous Visigoth woman took a few steps towards her, followed by her parasol carrier, until she was also standing close enough to reach out and touch her. With her standing so close, Hirita was more aware of how much taller the woman was than her. Like her brother standing just behind her, the Visigoth stood a good head height taller and she looked down her nose imperiously at Hirita's small, skinny, shivering form with something almost akin to pity. Her gaze made something inside Hirita shiver with both fear and also, strangely, excitement. She had so rarely been looked down upon in her former life, and something about being somehow below this woman was both humiliating and thrilling to her.

'Please, do tell me, good woman. What is your name?'

'Hirita... Hirita Cethega.'

Hirita replied, her own voice seeming soft and demure by comparison. She spoke to her feet, for some reason unable to meet the woman in the eye, as if afraid that their bright blue intensity would compel her in some way.

'Hirita,' the Visigoth mused in reply. 'A pretty name, it is poetic. It is nice to meet you, Hirita. My name is Bjarka, and the man behind you is my brother Athanaric. I am the wife of the new magistrate of this town. I am your town's honoured guest while he is away with politics.'

Hirita looked behind her again and saw that the massive imposing figure was still standing behind her, just a little too close for comfort. She swallowed the anxious lump in her throat and risked another glance upwards at the relatively friendly appearance of Bjarka instead. She saw that the woman was holding her hand out in an invitation of a formal greeting. She reached up a slightly trembling hand to return the gesture but when she did, she felt Bjarka pull her forwards with surprising strength and place two full lipped kisses on both of her cheeks and then one directly onto her lips which were parted slightly in surprise. For a moment she was almost convinced that she felt the small flick of Bjarka's tongue lance across the gap and then the moment was over.

She stood there stunned for an instant, unsure of how to react while Bjarka looked down at her with a pleased and strangely cocky smile on her face.

'Oh, did I do that wrong?' Bjarka asked in her thick accent as she cocked her dark eyebrow, 'I was told by people of the north that this was the way that Romans say hello. Is this wrong?'

'I...'

Hritia stammed for just a moment, struggling to regain her composure. She could still feel Bjarka's warmth on her cheeks and the memory of her soft lips on her own.

'I... No that was fine, that was... good.'

She managed to reply, her cheeks blushing brightly as she realised that she was still holding Bjarka's hand. She snatched it back instinctually quickly and went back to staring at her feet in a moment of deep embarrassment. By contrast Bjarka seemed to suffer no such discomfort and laughed a pleasant hearty chuckle to herself.

'Oh, this is very good, I knew that I would enjoy it here. It is very good to have been meeting you Hirita. So nice to have such a beautiful new friend already.'

Bjarka pursed her lips and winked at her playfully, although Hirita was still too overwhelmed by the whole experience of meeting this woman to really notice. Her eyes had fixed on the silver jewelry which sparkled on Bjarka's fingers and around her neck, her eyes tracing the course of silver lining which framed her plump ample cleavage. She realised that she was staring and blinked back further embarrassment and she made to move away, back to the safety of her home. As she turned she saw that the massive figure of Athanaric was still behind her and she stammered her excuses,

'Sorry, it was lovely to meet you too... Bjarka. I've got to get inside now, because, erm... The rain and... my bread. Erm.'

When she turned back towards her front door she saw that Bjarka had moved somehow incredibly silently to stand between her and the doorway. She started in fright a little and once again noticed how bright and blue her eyes were, looking down at her with a curious expression.

'Ah yes, I am very sorry to be keeping you out in this rain, Hirita dear.'

Bjarka reached out with a silver-encrusted hand and tucked one of Hirita's damp locks of hair back into her cloak in a very forward and familiar gesture. The Visigoths clearly had a very lax attitude towards personal space, or perhaps it was just Bjarka herself. Nevertheless, Hirita almost wished for a moment that those long delicate fingers would linger a little longer beside her face.

'And your bread, oh I am sorry. Please, I will make up to you. Come by around sundown and I will have my cooks make us both a tasty meal. It will be very good. I do not take no for an answer.'

And with that Bjarka clicked her fingers once and stalked back towards the men who were unloading her cart, parasol carrier and burly brother bodyguard in tow. Hirita stood stunned for just a moment more, before taking the last few fearful steps to her own front door, diving inside and bolting the door behind her.

- - -

For the rest of the day Hirita holed up in the small shabby kitchen of her once grand townhouse. It was the only room that she lived in now as it was the warmest and she had built herself a small bed by the hearth. The rest of the house sat cold and empty, its former glory turning to rust and ruin as each day passed. She was pretty sure that there were more than a few loose tiles in the roof and the shutters on some of the windows had long since blown off. But she had neither the money, time nor ability to repair such problems and so her house, like many others in the city, was slowly decaying around her.

She sat alone on her meagre mattress beside the small fire and nibbled on a few small morsels of the stale bread. She would have to try and make these two loaves last as her meagre supply of jewellery was swiftly running low. Her stomach growled unhappily and she tried her best to remember some of the meals that her family's slaves had once prepared in this very kitchen. But try as she might, the memory of such food had fled along with the rest of her finery.

A regular cacophony of bumps and scrapes through the wall reminded her that people were just now moving in next door. The Visigoth woman, Bjarka was probably directing the organisation of the furniture and setting up her own household to her liking. As her mind turned to her new neighbour once more, Hirita found herself picturing the woman standing tall and aloof, as she had before. Her long bare arms crossed in front of her full chest, eying those around her with her firm, intense expression.

The rest of the scene seemed to fade away in Hirita's mind, until she was focused just on the memory of Bjarka's full red lips, twisted into a smirk of confidence. The dark heavy shading around her bright blue eyes and the long pale curve of her neck, adorned with silver and dark leather. She wondered what her pale skin would feel like under her palms, how soft and smooth it would be. What would it feel like to run her fingers through Bjarka's long blond hair, combing out the tangles from its wavy pattern and catching its perfumed scent in the air?

Another uncomfortable growl from her stomach brought Hirita back to the moment and she remembered that Bjarka had invited, no, insisted that she come by for a meal at sundown. Her first instinct was one of fear, she had spent the last few years dodging and hiding from the Visigoths that had 'settled' in her town, although 'invaded' was a word which she might have preferred to use. The idea of walking into a building that had been taken over by one of the barbarians was something that, until now, she would have avoided at all costs. But Bjarka did not seem like the other brutish thugs that roamed the streets looking for trouble. Unlike them she seemed civilised and urbane, she spoke the same language as her, if not fluently then at least very well. She wore fine clothing and expensive jewellery, jewelry that had not been ripped from the hands of her fellow Romans, at least, probably not.

On second thought perhaps it would not be the worst idea in the world to accept Bjarka's invitation. She was in desperate need of a good meal after all, or at least something that wasn't stale bread or hard cheese. And Bjarka seemed friendly enough in an aloof and imposing kind of way. Besides, if she befriended the powerful new Visigothic family on the street then perhaps they would offer her some sort of protection from the other roving gangs of barbarians in the city.

All of the reasons why it might be a good idea to attend the evening meal swirled around inside Hirita's head, gently persuading her towards acceptance. But another, more base urge underlaid it all, and this was the simple fact that Bjarka fascinated her. She found her style and her glamour and her haughty strength of character intriguing, exciting even. She wanted to spend more time with this woman, to be close to her and put herself under her protection. It had been so long since Hirita had had anyone to rely upon but herself, and the idea of having someone like Bjarka to look after her made her feel warm and happy.

She was fantasising wildly now of course. What interest would an attractive, glamorous woman like Bjarka have in a skinny little waif like her after all? The woman was probably just going to give her some table scraps as an act of charity and send her on her way. To hope for more was foolish. But, perhaps this time, Hirita would allow herself to hope even just a little bit.

- - -

As sundown approached Hirita found herself worrying about what she should wear. She told herself that this was a silly concern, that Bjarka was probably not going to offer her any more than a bite to eat. But the vague memories of fancy dinners with her family here and at other noble's houses in the city filtered through the haze of the past few years. She remembered lavish dresses and fine furnishings, the kind of things that would have once been the focus of her entire life. As it was, she had very little choice in what to wear. Most of her finery had long since been looted and the few bits of clothing that she had managed to salvage had long since become very threadbare.

In the end she settled on a simple blue dress and one of the last remaining brass necklaces that she owned with a single red garnet set into the pendant. She spent an industrious few moments attempting to polish off the green discolouration which had crept across the once burnished surface of the brass links. The damp and dark hole under the loose floor tile in the kitchen was clearly not the best place for keeping jewellery at its finest. She no longer had a polished metal mirror in which to check her reflection, so she made do with the bucket of water that she kept by the hearth and brushed her short dark hair as best she could with her fingers.

The rain had stopped when she stepped outside and in the west a dazzling orange and purple sunset was sinking below the patchy clouds on the horizon. Even now with large parts of the city abandoned or in ruins it was still an amazing sight in such a light and Hirita felt her spirits bolstered a little more, knowing that in a world that had fallen to dark times, there was still beauty to be found. She turned away from the sunset and walked the few steps down the street until she stood before the closed door of Bjarka's new house. Whenever she had been to dinner at another noble's house before, they had always had attendants to announce her family, but now she stood alone and so she took a few meek steps forward and knocked as delicately as she could on the door.

There was a loud stomping front behind the door and for a moment Hirita's fear returned once more and she considered turning and running back to the safety of her little hide-away kitchen. But then the door opened and standing there was the massive muscle-bound bulk of Athanaric, Bjarka's enormous brother. His small eyes squinted out into the gathering gloom at her and he showed no sign of recognising Hirita at all.

'Erm... Hello...,' she squeaked, 'I'm here to see Bjarka, she said that I should come round and erm...'

She trailed off limply, not even sure if the brute spoke decent enough Latin to even understand what she was saying. Then, mercifully there was a call from behind him and the pale, delicate hand of Bjarka gently pulled her brother aside and back into the house until she stood silhouetted against the warm light from within her new home.

'Hirita, darling!' she exclaimed with seemingly genuine pleasure, 'So good to be seeing you again. Please do be coming in. Brother dear you can be off for the night if you like, we are all good here thank you.'

Athanaric stood lamely beside his sister for a moment and blinked once or twice before replying in his own language, which Hirita couldn't understand. Bjarka clearly repeated something similar to what she had said before because he looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before lumbering down the steps past Hirita. She thought that she must have imagined it, but for just a moment in the gloom of evening she thought that she saw the big man wink at her and mutter 'have fun' in broken latin before he turned his back and carried on down the street.

Once she entered the townhouse, Hirita was dazzled by how bright it was inside, she had forgotten just how much light could be cast by the numerous clay oil lamps which sat in the numerous nooks around the walls and hanging from the ceiling. The floor, walls and ceiling of the rooms were all as spotless as if an army of slaves had been hard at work in the building cleaning out the accumulated dust and dirt of its former abandonment. The intoxicating smell of cooking meat wafted up from the kitchens below and intermingled with the numerous scents of burning incense.

But none were quite as intoxicating as Bjarka herself who welcomed Hirita in with a swoop of the long hanging sleeves of another ornate dress, this one dark burgundy red in colour and lined with delicate dark embroidery around the neckline and hems. Once again Bjarka swept towards Hirita and enveloped her in an all encompassing embrace before placing two kisses on her cheek and a final one full on her lips, as she had before. The hunger in her stomach was joined by the further flutter of butterflies as she felt Bjarka's soft lips on her own again and unlike before she allowed herself to relax and enjoy the informal greeting.

'Please do come sit down, have some wine?'

Bjarka gestured at two comfortable looking reclining couches set around a low wooden table in the centre of the room. A large jug of wine was placed alongside the full bowl of fresh fruit and two glasses of dark red wine already sat waiting for them. Hirita allowed herself to be guided to a couch and gratefully reached out to take a sip of wine. It had been a very long time since she had tasted anything this deliciously sweet and tangy and she allowed the warm red liquid to sit on her tongue for a moment, savouring the flavour.

'Thank you very much for inviting me,' she said at last. 'I'm sorry that I don't have a gift or anything for you, but well... I mean, I don't really have...'

'Oh hush, do not be worried about this,' Bjarka replied with a wave of her delicate pale hand, 'I am sure that we can find something that we both like for a gift, yes?'

She winked playfully at Hirita, who blushed softly once again, wondering just what Bjarka could mean by that. Did it mean what she thought it meant? Or was she just not understanding her language correctly? The small seed of hope for something wonderful germinated inside of Hirita but remained underground for now.

With the help of the wine and without even really noticing it the two of them fell into easy conversation with Hirita telling tales of Salamantica as it had been in its heyday, leaving out the troubles of the past few years. Bjarka told tales of her people's travels and her family's legacy, of their crossing of the northern mountains and their wars against the hated Suevi barbarians. Hirita found it all fascinating, a view into a wider world beyond the borders of the town, the province and even the entire Empire.

When the food was served it was delicious roasted chicken with perfectly spiced vegetables and steamed fresh greens. And of course the wine kept flowing and didn't seem to show any signs of stopping. Hirita had to stop herself from quaffing the rare red liquid which danced across her tongue so wonderfully and reminded her of better days. She felt its effects well enough and she found herself slipping comfortably into a soporific stupor, laying there and listening to Bjarka's throaty soft voice on a comfortable lavish reclining sofa.

She didn't even notice that Bjarka had moved over to sit beside her on the couch until she felt her warm hand stroke delicately along her exposed upper arm. She opened her eyes and saw the woman's pale striking features looking down at her from above. The dinner setting had been cleared away and the light in the room had grown dimmer as several of the oil lamps had burned out.

'Oh, are you wanting to sleep? You poor girl, I have quite ruined you with all the wine.'

Bjarka asked quietly, her lips curling into a soft almost motherly smile. Her thick blond braid had fallen down to one side of her face and once again Hirita was intensely aware of the full expanse of her delicate exposed neckline, the curve of her shoulders and the deep cleft of her cleavage now within half an arm's length of her.

'No... I. I'm sorry,'

She croaked as she sat up beside Bjarka. Their faces were now a mere hand's span apart, Hritia could see Bjarka's heavy lidded dark eyelashes in fine detail and pick out every strand of her beautiful golden hair, see the dark red moisture of the wine's residue on her lips.

'Oh, if you are not needing to sleep, then perhaps you would like to taste dessert?'

Bjarka's hand came to rest softly but firmly on Hirita's leg and she could feel her heart beating hard in her chest and hear her blood pounding in her ears as she looked deeply into her eyes, like twin bright blue pools of sky. All other thought and reason was chased from Hirita's mind as she leaned in tentatively, her lips parting and her breath coming short and anxious, she breathed a final 'yes', before their lips met and she melted completely into Bjarka's soft wonderful embrace.

She tasted like wine and spiced herbs, she felt warm and tender. Hirita loved the feeling of her hot breath on her face, her firm grasp on her leg and now the back of her neck, pulling her harder into the kiss. The two women sat for a little while side by side on the couch, Bjarka's hands softly but persistently exploring over Hirita's body. One hand caressed and stroked up and down her leg, delicately pulling at the fabric there to raise her hemline and expose her legs. Bjarka's other hand tangled itself into Hirita's hair, holding her head firmly but tenderly in place as her mouth opened wide and she plunged her tongue deep into her mouth.

Hirita let out an instinctive moan and reached up with both hands to hold onto Bjarka's body, as if scared that she would retreat away from her and this incredible moment. But thankfully, the Visigoth woman showed no sign of retreating and in fact pressed forwards and encouraged Hirita to lie back on the sofa, their faces still pressed together in a long passionate kiss. She could feel the weight of Bjarka on top of her, pushing her ever so wonderfully into the soft cushions like a warm soft blanket. Her ample breasts were pressed delightfully into Hirita's own and she revelled in the sensation of being squashed delicately by this confident, forceful woman.

With some fumbling, and some precise movements the two women began to pull at each other's clothing. Hirita's came off quickly as the simple ties and brooches she wore fell to the floor with ease. Bjarka's full bodice and numerous pieces of silver jewellery took a little more work to remove but once they were gone Hirita marvelled in rapt joy at the sight of the fully exposed curves and heavenly feeling of her subtle pale skin. The one piece of clothing that she kept on was the studded dark leather band around her neck, which somehow accentuated her nakedness. It gave an almost severe and dangerous look which made Hirita clench inside as she looked up at her from below.

With all of their clothes finally removed the two of them finally dove back into kissing one another, their bodies pressing together tightly as they embraced. Hirita's hands explored the wide smooth expanse of Bjarka's naked back, enjoying the gentle curve of her spine and down to her full round behind which she held for a moment with one hand, while the other moved around to cup tentatively on one of her large pillowy breasts. She could feel the large pink nipple hardening under her touch as she played with it and delighted in the deep growl which this elicited from Bjarka above her. Bjarka herself had moved on to kissing, licking and biting softly on Hirita's slim neckline, her teeth sending little glitters of pleasure out from her sensitive skin and making her body writhe in response.

For just a moment the two broke their tight embrace and Bjarka looked down into Hirita's eyes with a look of playful passion on her face. She pursed her lips lightly and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

'Would you like your dessert now?'

Hirita, who thought she knew exactly what the Visigoth meant, bit her lip and nodded excitedly, her eyelids fluttering along with the frantic beating of her heart. Bjarka smiled and repositioned her body in the couch so that her knees were either side of Hirita's head, and her fully exposed naked slit was sitting a breath away from her upward-facing mouth. Hirita saw that she was already wet from the foreplay and she licked her lips to see the dewey pink lips above her, with a tight tuft of yellow curly hair at the head of her opening. Bjarka looked down at her like some pagan goddess from above and stroked the side of her head tenderly for just a moment more before she slowly lowered her hips down until she was sitting comfortably on her face, forcing her to bury her mouth and tongue into the waiting folds of her slit.

The taste was just as delicious as Hirita had imagined it would be, like the wine earlier in the evening. Bjarka's slickness was sweet and tangy and flowed like the juice of a ripe fruit over her lips and down over her chin. She inhaled deeply through her nose, savouring the heady scent which filled it and her eyes rolled back as she lost herself in the moment of laying there with this beautiful gothic goddess sitting on her face. Her arms reached up to hold onto Bjarka's thick thighs, holding her in place and continued to feast greedily on the precious delicacy she had been gifted with.

Above her, Bjarka smiled and bit her lower lip, her head tossed back and she reached up with one hand to play with her already tender nipple, while she leaned her weight back on the other. The light in the room dimmed even further as another oil lamp ran out of fuel but neither woman noticed it as the ruddy red pleasure behind their eyelids filled the whole of their vision. The scent of hot sex filled the room, intermingling with the flavours of wine and herbs, creating an intoxicating aroma that perfumiers would give their right hand to be able to bottle.

With persistent dedicated laps of her tongue, Hirita parted the outer lips of Bjarka's slit and began to lick more firmly on the hardened nub of pleasure at the head of her, pausing occasionally to suckle on the same nub like a babe at a breast. This was enough to elicit a new breathy moan of pleasure from Bjarka above her, who pressed her hips down harder into Hirita's face, her mouth open wide in pleasure as she continued to lick and suck on the same spot.

'Oh! Little Hirita, that is feeling good! So good!'

She breathed out, as she tossed her head back once more and reached down to grab a fistful of Hirita's short hair. The mixture of pleasure and tender pain from the hair pulling spurred Hirita on to continue her delicious meal with more enthusiasm, focusing the attention of her tongue in deeper and firmer than before. She could feel her own need and desire rising with the pleasure that she was giving Bjarka but for now she ignored that yearning pleasure in her abdomen, her main desire and focus was on making her feel as good as she possibly could.

Bjarka's breath was coming faster with each passing moment, each gasp heaving her large breasts up and down like a sea in full swell. Her skin was ruddy at her cheeks and across her bust, her eyes tight closed and mouth wide open. She ground her hips downwards into Hirita's face clearly trying to eke every single facet of pleasure out of her ferociously lapping tongue. Hirita never let up even for a moment, allowing herself to be almost suffocated and smothered by the force of the larger woman above her and loving every moment of it. The juices now running down her face and over her chin now covered her chest and she sucked in every hard gasp that she could through her nose, inhaling the sweet nectar of female pleasure with every breath.

The tempo of both of their movements increased more and more, their bodies grinding into each other until several short sharp convulsions shook through Bjarka's body before she threw her head back in a silent scream and her whole body tensed. Hirita held on as tightly as she could, her tongue pressed firmly and unyieldingly against the bud of flesh beneath it. Then, Bjarka fell forward and seemed to let out several joyful, pleasure filled sobs as her whole body shook with the power of her orgasm rolling over and through her. Hirita felt a splash of warm tangy liquid splash over her face and she lapped up as much as she could in gratitude.

With a few final shuddering moans, Bjarka collapsed forwards and let out one long contented breath, her plaited blonde hair falling down around her head like a lion's mane. With gentle movements the two women disengaged themselves and came to lie together side by side and rejoined their kiss, Hirita's face still wet with Bjarka's come as they pressed their bodies back together.

'Thank you Hirita, I very much enjoy this gift you give me.'

Bjarka said softly as she licked her own slick off of Hirita's neckline.

'I hope you enjoyed your dessert.'

'I loved it.'

Hirita replied, her own hands trembling slightly as she stroked up and down her new lover's exposed flank.

'Good because I think I have a special after-dinner treat for you too, my love.'

Bjarka delicately slid off of the couch and stepped over to a dresser on the side of the room, opening up a drawer and pulling out something from within. In the gathered gloom of the single oil lamp still left burning Hirita couldn't see exactly what she was doing, she could only see the incredible curve of her back and the plump fullness of her behind silhouetted in the shadows of the room. When Bjarka turned around she had retrieved a single silver object which resembled a tube with a bulbous end and she wore it now over the last two joins of her middle finger. The whole thing was probably only a hand's length long, and only a little wider than the actual finger which she wore it upon.

Hirita smiled and wondered who had crafted such a wonderful object for her, and had that craftsman guessed or even wondered at its intended purpose. When Bjarka came back to lie beside her, Hirta felt the still cool, smooth surface of the object run up and down her body, over her legs, hips and around her waist, its firm tip even brushing over her hardened nipples for a moment. The two of them relaxed back into each other, their tongues and lips interplaying softly as Bjarka continued to tease with the metal object all over Hirita's body, moving delicately lower and lower until it ran up the length of her inner thigh.

To start with Bjarka merely cupped the slick mound between Hirita's legs, her metal-clad middle finger merely stroking back and forth, up and down her slit, its smooth texture becoming slowly covered in her wetness. As the two of them opened their mouths once more to plunge their tongues between the other's lips, Bjarka crooked her finger inwards at the same time and slipped the full length of the object inwards, penetrating it deep inside of Hirita. She let out a small gasp of surprise as she did so to feel the still not-quite-warm-enough metal device slide smoothly into her, filling her up with an invasive but not unpleasant sensation of fullness. Bjarka merely stroked her hair comfortingly and allowed the object to sit for a moment as her body acclimated to its presence inside her, waiting until she was ready before moving on.

After a moment or two, Hirita felt Bjarka begin to move her hand slowly back and forth between the legs, slowly pulling and then pushing the foreign object in and out of her. Its smooth slick surface rubbed pleasantly against her inner walls and every time that Bjarka buried it inside her, the palm of her hand pressed delightfully against the bud at the height of her mound. With this she would delicately rub her hand in place, knowing the pleasure that it sent shivering through Hirita's body every time that she did.

With each thrust of Bjarka's finger, Hirita could feel a growing pressure welling up inside her, building greater and greater filling her up and overwhelming her senses. She was vaguely aware of the feeling of her lips on her neckline once more, the feeling of the soft cushions beneath her and the taste of her slit still on her tongue. But all of it was swiftly becoming background noise to the growing inevitable sensation of pleasure which was blooming within her abdomen. Her legs flexed out and went rigid as Bjarka strummed her finger back and forth, faster with each passing moment. The feeling of her metal finger grinding deep inside her and her soft palm pressing into her with each stroke was overwhelming her.

Her breath came faster and shallower, her skin felt flushed and she held on tightly to Bjarka's body beside her like a sailor in a storm clinging to the gunwale of a ship. It was almost too much, she almost needed it to stop, for the incredible rhythmic motion inside of her to cease. But as every new stroke built yet another brick onto the edifice of her pleasure she knew that she couldn't let it stop, she had to hold on and ride out the wave. She bit her lip and whimpered happily into Bjarka's soft neckline as she held onto her for dear life, every fibre of her being tense and quivering with delight until at long last the pleasure seemed like it couldn't possibly reach any higher.

The final wave crashed over Hirita with a force unlike any she had ever experienced. At the same time as she felt her release, Bjarka buried her finger as deep and as hard inside her hole as she could, while at the same time rubbing the palm of her hand across the tender bud of flesh above. Hirita's scream was not silent at all and if her ears had not been filled with the sound of her own heartbeat she might have been ashamed of the pleasure filled howl which escaped her lips.

At long last the desperate pounding orgasm which had ripped through her subsided from Hirita's mind and she felt the glorious silver device being drawn out from within her as Bjarka kissed tenderly up her neck and cheek to meet her lips once more. Hirita merely gasped for air and nuzzled instinctively into her large bosom as they lay side by side, the Roman and the Visigoth basking in the afterglow of their joined pleasure.

'If you like, we are having dinner again tomorrow evening.'

Bjarka whispered softly and playfully in Hirita's ear. She barely heard it but smiled and nodded gratefully as she began to drift into pleasant sleep.