Athelstan of Lindisfarne

Sinric sings on, a lilting, happy song of pleasure. He kisses and touches them both, very gently and easily. He doesn't feel left out or neglected, happy to bask in the warmth of their coupling.

He moves behind Athelstan and presses against his back, molding himself to his body. He reaches around, wrapping an arm around him to slide a hand between them, stroking Athelstan slowly.

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Ragnar moves, smoothly and evenly, angling for the sweet spot within Athelstan's body with each thrust.

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Ragnar knows very well where it is, and Athelstan thrusts back against him, in between being pushed closer to Sinric.

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Sinric moves with Athelstan, graceful as a dancer anticipating the rhythm of their love-making. Because with them, he knows it is love-making.

He presses against Athelstan at just the right moments, with just the right pressure to keep him close to Ragnar, to keep their bodies aligned the the perfect angle.

His touch alternates between stroking and a grip on the base of Athelstan's prick that keeps him on edge and in the high of desire. His part is to bring their peak to the highest point together.

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Ragnar slows down, wanting this to last as long as it can, for the peak to be as high and steep as it can be.

He reaches out to stroke Sinric's cheek, in acknowledgement of his presence, subtle and supportive though it is.

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Athelstan wonders, in some corner of his mind, if Sinric has done something like this before. He seems to know what he's doing so well.

And then he drops the thought in favour of sensation, his head falling back as he rides Ragnar.

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Sinric turns his face into Ragnar's touch, kissing his palm and rubbing himself like a cat against the hard calluses of his fingers.

He kisses Athelstan's neck, whispering in his ear in the words of Athelstan's native tongue. "Look at him. See how he shines for you. His eyes like sunlight on the sea, for love of you."

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Ragnar smiles, as he understands the words as well; he smiles into Athelstan's eyes, as if to confirm Sinric's words.

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Athelstan reaches out to him with one hand, and Sinric with the other.

"And I love him. With all I am."

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Sinric croons softly and kisses Athelstan's neck again, leaning in to steal a kiss from Ragnar and press them together. "Nothing more beautiful can ever be."

He eases back to let them be with each other completely, without the distraction of him. He begins to sing again, being to them a songbird as he lays back on the pillows.

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"As I love you, Athelstan," Ragnar says, in Saxon, starting to speed up his thrusts while smiling into his lover's eyes.

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Athelstan lies back all the way now, drawing Ragnar with him, until his head is on the pillows near Sinric's legs.

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Sinric curls around to reach Athelstan, carding his fingers through Athelstan's hair as he watches them, still singing. His eyes meet Ragnar's for a moment and he smiles, a warm smile that while genuine, hides a sadness too.

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Ragnar returns the smile, even some of the sadness; Sinric will have all the freedom, adventure and knowledge in the world, but for all Ragnar knows, he'll never have something like this.

He is thrusting into Athelstan, trying for true aim every time.

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Athelstan shifts, his legs tightening around Ragnar's waist, to direct him as best he can.

He can't see Sinric's face, but he can see the look Ragnar gives him, and he understands.

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Sinric takes one of Athelstan's hands and holds it, his fingers carressing the smooth skin of his inner wrist. He closes his eyes, letting the passion of them wash over him, the race of Athelstan's heart in his pulse and the roughness of Ragnar's breath, the heat of the room and the scent of sweat and sex. All of it he takes into himself and makes it part of the song.

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Ragnar speeds up his movements even more; his is driving into Athelstan to drive him to his steep peak,

He reaches out to touch Sinric's hand on Athelstan's

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Athelstan's pulse speeds up even more as Ragnar sends him to the heights of pleasure, and he pulls Ragnar's head down for a heated kiss.

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Ragnar's touch brings a smile to his lips, binding them together in the moment. His eyes still closed, he brings his song to crescendo, singing his way to the peak with him with voice and breath if not in body, though his heart races with theirs.

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Ragnar gives a few more thrusts as he gasps into the kiss, and then he feels the pleasure peak, unable to stop himself any longer; he shoots his seed into Athelstan's body, and shouts his pleasure into the middle of Sinric's sound.

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Because of Ragnar, and because of Sinric's earlier help, Athelstan is right there with him, crying out and joining his voice to the other two.

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A shudder runs through Sinric, sounding in his voice as a soft moan, lost in their cries. He doesn't stop singing yet but the song changed. Softer, sweeter - a song for slow embraces and the glow of love shared.

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Ragnar spills powerfully, especially when he feels Athelstan clench all around him in his pleasure; but this cannot last, of course.

Stilling his movements, and catching his breath, he lies on Athelstan, covering him, and then languidly lifts his head for another kiss.

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Athelstan returns it, still breathing fast but beginning to come down. He smiles into the kiss as he hears Sinric's song.

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