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Amora was seething. She could not be more angry! It was well known and accepted by almost all that she was Asgard’s greatest beauty. Many were the men who would fight and kill for her. Take that foolish executioner, for example. But Amora did not want THEM. She was the Enchantress; her lips were as full as cherries and her hair glittered like gold and her skin was more flawless than the walls of Asgard. She deserved the very best. She wanted Thor.
So she went to him. He was hardly the first man she had seduced. He spent his time mucking around on Midgard, so his standards could not be particularly high. A single wink from Amora was supposed to charm his clothes off and reveal the juicy treats that lay beneath. Oh, they would have made SUCH good love.
WOULD HAVE! Because when Amora arrived, she was rebuffed. He chose a Midgardien over HER!
Some plain nurse. A fragile little mortal. Amora tried to show him the error of his ways, tried to display how easily such a toy would BREAK, and when she did, Thor had fought her. He wielded his hammer and called down thunder and lightning, shattering her magic. She barely escaped, drained of power with her pride in tatters. She hadn’t even managed to slay the stupid mortal he got so defensive over.
She would, though. Amora would be back. She might be out of power now, but there was no end to the avenues she knew to recover. She was wily and ancient. First, she had to find a decent source of magical power…
Amora was fleeing in the form of a spirit, a form that let her move very fast around the world. She caught sight of what she was looking for above the United Kingdom; the moment she noticed it, she knew that she had found what she needed. Excitement powered her as she shot toward the absolute BEACON of magic she was sensing.
She didn’t know what part of the country she was in nor did she care. Her excitement only grew as she recognized the source of what she was sensing. A wizard! A male Midgardian magic wielder. This could not get any better.
She found him in bed. The wards around his home were surprisingly potent… But Amora got in all the same. She took a deep breath and gathered herself into her physical form.
She was dressed as she had been to visit Thor. The mortal did not even realize how lucky he was. All her glamors were active to enhance her gorgeous looks as much as possible. She was wearing a green dress which stopped a few inches down her thighs, gifting a view of plenty of succulent and enticing flesh. She was barefoot without shoes or socks. Her buxom chessed pressed out the front of her dress. Amora had never worn a bra in her life, silly Midgardian trend that they were, but if she had, she would’ve found double D’s necessary to rain in her hefty mounds. She wore a green crown that ran along where her hair met her forehead, its simple horns on either corner giving her the appearance of royalty. Compared to a simple human, that couldn’t be more accurate.
She walked forward, making no move to drown the sound of her steps. She studied her prey as she went. He had black hair that partially covered an old scar across his forehead. There was a blanket tossed haphazardly across his body, covering part of his stomach and one leg. Amora licked her lips as she gazed on his muscular chest and chiseled face. This was business, not pleasure, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy it.
Suddenly, when she was at his bedside, his eyes were open. They were the same color of green as her outfit.
“Veela?” he asked.
Amora didn’t know what that meant. She clasped her hands together, doing so in the right way to squeeze her tits together. Leaning over the edge of his bed, her cleavage went so low that he could see flashes of pink.
“I need your help!” she said. “A terrible man attacked me! He would have… He would have killed me… But I escaped! It was a close thing. I used all of my power to escape him and I must recover, in case he comes back. There is a way, but… This is embarrassing to ask…”
Amora shifted in place. Men loved it when a shy maid came to beg her way into their bed. It made them feel powerful and accomplished, even when they were ants compared to her. Strangely, this man looked at her while saying nothing.
“We must sleep together,” Amora said. “It’s the only way. I know that I may not be comely enough, but I will do anything tonight that you wish me to! It is a matter of life and death!”
Still, the man looked at her in silence. Amora almost frowned, but then the spell she was weaving would have been broken; not a real spell, but a spell of infatuation.
When the man on the bed continued to say nothing, she decided that she would have to use more desperate measures. She DID call upon her magic now. She wove a brief charm over the man, using the little bit of magic she held to keep the Midgardian mage docile. Riding him this way would be less fun… Which was a great shame, because he was almost as wonderful to look at as Thor himself… But desperate times needed desperate measures.
As his eyes glazed over she climbed onto the bed. She swept the blanket back. He slept in only underwear. Amora was pleased to see that his stomach was as chiseled as his chest. She grasped his underwear and pulled it off his ankles, doing so with her fingers instead of her magic. She usually skipped such busywork. Alas, she really didn’t have power to spare…
Amora forgot all of her prior thoughts when she turned back around and laid her eyes on the man’s crotch. By the All Father, his penis was huge!
“Do you have Jotun blood?” Amora exclaimed.
“I doubt it.”
She flinched when she heard the voice of a man who should have been frozen in place with the help of her magic. The enchantment was broken! She had to—
Amora found herself as the one laying on the mattress. She didn’t even understand how it happened, although she could sense that some kind of magic had been used. The man was laying on his hip against one side of her; he had not put on clothes. The weapon between his legs that looked as deadly as Mjolnir was resting against Amora’s hip, warm and desirable and begging her to imagine how it would feel shoved into her.
“Let’s see what you truly are,” the man said.
His green eyes looked into her head. She felt him reach her thoughts. He didn’t go deep enough to dig out her secrets, only how she had spent the last day. It all took a matter of seconds. Amora was grappling with the fact that her mind had been penetrated when he shook his head softly.
“So, you tried to kill a woman because she took the man you wanted.”
“She was just a flimsy little mortal,” Amora said. Why was she responding to him like this? She should be getting free! But… How?
“It’s still murder,” Harry said. “It isn’t fun to be at another person’s mercy just because they're stronger. Is it?”
There was a cocky, teasing lilt to his words. How insufferable, to be teased by a mortal? So why was Amora’s crotch leaking onto the fabric of her skirt?
“Maybe I’ll have to show you,” the man said.
He shifted against her body. The weight of his dick against her thigh disappeared, replaced by his fingers on her inner thighs. Amora felt his breath. His lips pressed onto her pussy, followed by his tongue digging into her cunt.
This was what she came here for… But it was all wrong. She was supposed to drain HIM! Instead of riding a handsome mortal and drinking up the magic he could offer her, she was writhing helplessly at the mercy of his thick, fast tongue. Amora squealed. The noise was honest and came from deep in her chest; usually, when she screamed with a man, it meant she was pretending.
He hadn’t even disrobed her. Her dress was still on. But the bottom of it was so short that since she went without underwear, the man could get to her pussy easily enough.
His tongue was doing things to her. She felt her cunt getting wetter. Amora lifted her lower back. “You—” She didn’t finish what she was saying. She couldn’t. All she could do was moan.
Her thoughts got blurry. She forgot why she had been on Earth. Thor, that’s right. Except… What did she see in him? Why was she so obsessed that she plotted against his lover? Thor would surely be a decent lover, but Amora couldn’t even imagine him using his tongue this way.
The grip the man had on her thighs was the best part. So firm without hurting her. They were experienced fingers, used to holding the sensitive legs of beautiful women.
“WIZARD!” Amora screamed.
She jerked her hips around. A thick stream launched from her pussy, spraying across the man’s face. She could see the residue when he shifted his grip on her thighs, touching the top of them to push himself up, as if completing a push up.
“Harry,” he said.
Amora blinked stupidly at him. Her sharp wits had been dulled to the point they couldn’t cut butter, pleasure turning her stupid. He laughed when he saw her confusion.
“My name is Harry, not Wizard. If you’re going to scream something, it should at least be my name.”
“Harry…” Amora was happy to know it. A moment later, she realized something frightening.
She bolted upright, looking down at her hands. Her magic! She had been left with very little. Now, she had even less. Amora could use sex to accumulate power, it was a trick she had used many times in the millenia that she had lived. This was a first. When she orgasmed, power had been sucked away! He was turning her spell back on her!
“Missing something?” Harry asked.
He knew. It was there in his smug expression. Oh, how Amora longed to smite him. Although she would be careful and leave his face unharmed, as well as… Other parts.
Unfortunately, it was all conjecture.
“You took my magic,” she said.
“You meant to take mine,” Harry said. “Don’t worry. It’s temporary. I just want to show you something. You should know how it feels.”
He eased Amora around. She was like a youth in his hands, as if she’d never been with a man before, such was the ease with which he took command. Amora gasped as she felt him unfasten her dress. She was nude beneath. As she lay on her stomach, it was undeniable that her thick and jiggly cheeks were just as endowed as her large breasts.
Harry took her from behind. He eased her onto her knees and watched a goddess arched her back for him, before stabbing the monstrous shape between his legs into the hole between HER legs.
The clap was resounding; as loud as the thunder Thor had conjured. Amora heard her own voice again. “Ah! Ah! Ah! MM!”
Harry ran his hands along her body. He stroked the curves that had driven giants and gods to do battle, taking careful inventory of them while KNOWING that they belonged to him tonight. Eventually his palm found its way onto one of her cheeks, creating another loud crack.
“AH!” Amora squealed.
Not only did he have a cultured tongue, he could be vigorous. In the same vein as his muscles, it was very unlike the male sorcerers that Amora knew. He fucked her with the vigor of a warrior returning from a feast, high off the smell of spilt blood and drunk on strong wine.
Amora started to rock herself into his thrusts. Her body was having a wonderful time, despite her brain’s protests that this was all wrong! Those protests dwindled over time. A single, simple, almost stupid thought came to dominate Aurora’s head:
I feel good.
She didn’t literally say it out loud. Her moans were a pretty direct translation. She gasped and moaned each time he thrusted or when his hand slapped her butt. When he grabbed onto her flowing golden hair, she didn’t complain about the way he pulled it back. In fact, she moaned and came.
“You feel wonderful inside,” Harry said. “You’re SURE you’re not a veela? You remind me of… Well, I guess it’s just a resemblance. I saw in your head, after all.”
He took her from behind until it was time to cum, which he did inside without hesitation. Amora felt the warmth. She grunted, or groaned, or moaned; the sound was somewhere between all three. Her magic had all been drained away, leaving her at the mercy of this mortal magician, much to her body’s delight. He used his dominion to roll her onto her back and grab her wrists, holding her hands right above her pussy, which he resumed his thrusts into. Harry watched with admiring eyes as Amora’s titties swung around on her chest. Her headdress had loosened, leaving its green points skewed on her head.
“If I cum inside you again,” Harry said casually, “you really won’t have any magic left. It will all go to me. I imagine it will be at least a month until your power returns enough to leave this realm. If you don’t want that to happen, tell me to stop.”
Although she moaned, Amora said nothing of the sort.
Harry developed a smirk. He decided to turn the offer on its head.
“If you DO want that to happen–if you want me to cum inside you and strand you here for an AWFULLY long time–then tell me to do it,” he said.
“What?” Amora gasped.
He knew she’d heard him. Harry smiled at her while he kept fucking. Amora gasped. She held out for about ten to twenty seconds. Then she could hold herself back no more.
“Cum in me!” she squealed. “Take me for yourself, the way I wished Thor would! You’re better anyway. A handsomer face and not afraid to go between my legs, the way Asgardian warriors never would! Please cum in me! Please!”
Harry grinned. “If you ask so nicely.”
His second load felt larger than the first. Maybe Amora was imagining that. She could sense her lower body trembling. If the front door of Harry’s home had been the way back to Asgard, she still would have been stranded, knowing that her legs could never carry her that far. Amora squirted hard as she felt Harry’s cum fill her. He stroked the side of her beautiful, immortal cheek.
She felt that he was still hard.
“You have the vigor of a god…” Amora whispered.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Harry said. “You have the body of a goddess, for what it’s worth.”
Amora blushed.
“I’ve got a wonderful idea,” Harry decided. “I’ll rehabilitate you. You wouldn’t be the first woman I’ve put on a better path. It might be the first time I’ve used this method, though.”
He stroked her cheek.
“Let’s get to correcting your behavior. One creampie at a time.”
Suddenly, the hero’s life was starting to sound AWFULLY enticing.