Jon stared into the crimson flames that burned in front of him, while he listened to Tormund's endless rant about the different wildling clans and folks, until Tormund realized that the little crow was absentmindedly day-dreaming. He wondered if his story about the different wilding clans and their savage customs could have scared the boy in black. He took a flask off his saddle and offered it up to Jon. "Here. This will make them seem less fearsome, might be. And warm you for the night."
Jon tried to refuse the flask, filled with a dark liquid that was undoubtedly strong mead, but Tormund big hands firmly closed around Jon's gloves and forced the bottle back into his hand.
"No, go on, it's yours to keep. Drink deep."
Within was the expected mead, so potent it made Jon's eyes water and sent tendrils of fire snaking through his chest. He drank deep. Shortly after he emptied the bottle, Jon felt the alcohol, creeping through his veins, burning under his skin, clouding his mind, but at the same time, dulling his fear and doubts, the burning felt warm now, almost gentle and pleasuring. The cold air on skin was now a chilling breeze, pleasant and soft.
"You're a good man, Tormund Giantsbabe. For a wilding."
He did not recognize his own slurring voice nor the slip of his tongue. All that his dulled mind could think about was the wildling right before him.
"Better than most, might be. Not as good as some." Tormund answered, emptying another bottle he had hidden somewhere in between his words.
"No, my friend!" Jon's hand patted Tormund's broad shoulder. "There is not a single, living man and no wilding for sure, that is better than you." His words came out slow and even more slurred than before but his eyes showed the truth, the mead may had bought forth the words but their core was truth. Incited by the mead in his veins, Jon could not stop the flow of words, that were now leaving his mouth, even though Tormund looked at him in an irritated yet amused way.
"When your people, when Mance got me, I felt lost and hopeless, it were people, good people, like Ygritte and you that helped me, that saved me from losing my mind in this white hell. You are a great man, Tormund Giantsbabe, a great one!" His hands caressed Tormund's wide back through the fur he was wearing.
"Ho, little crow, that is a word! You have no idea WHAT a man I am! I could make you shiver in fear by telling you the things I've done." Tormund laughed, loud and long, his beard was shaking and Jon swore that he saw little ice-crystals forming in the corners of Giantsbane's eyes, frozen tears of laughter. The redbeard continued to drink from bottle after bottle that he kept pulling out from the gods know where, while his eyes had a strange glint in them, a unexpected shine, that was more than a mere reflection of the fire, Jon was mesmerized by those big eyes, nearly as much as Tormund was by the eyes of the Stark-bastard, both kept starring into the eyes of the other.
"Make me." Jon whispered, with a smirk on his cold lips.
Tormund moved his head closer, his red beard gently touching the little crow's black beard.
"Oh, I will crow, I will."
His lips pressed against Jon's, full of force and hidden desire. His hands caressed Jon's back, slowly undressing the layers of fur and black leather that covered his body.
"Not out here! Your men will see us!", Jon begged, while forcefully separating himself from the wildling and pointing at Tormunds tent.
"Might be. Let them see us. Nothing wrong with two comrades warming each other in the cold! They might even join us!" Tormund roared, yet again breaking into that boastful laughter of his. "But I understand what you are trying to say, let's move this to the tent as long as our fire is still burning!"
With a small gasp, Jon was lifted off his feet, Tormund held him, wildling bridal style, and carried him into his tent. where both of them got rid of the remaining clothes. This was the first time that Jon realized how big Tormunds Muscles, how big his body actually was, not only his arms or his legs, even his back and neck where covered in thick muscles, matching his big hands. "Now you really look like the man from your stories. The man who slew a giant with his bare hands and slept with a bear." Jon told while retracing the muscles on Tormund's belly with his index finger. Giantsbane's hands stood like pillars left and right from Jon's Face, supporting his weight, enabling them to gaze into the others eyes, seeking, preying, devouring each other. A small spark ignited, what felt like an eternal flame. They needed each other and they wanted each other.
Tormund continued without many words, where he had stopped, kissing Jon's dry and cold lips, touching cheeks, his back, soft like a feather, strong like a bear. Like a force of nature, they clashed, their kisses wild and untamed. Even though the bastard was much smaller in statue and force, he made up for it by a natural vigor and a certain ferocity he had. His hands were all over the wildlings body, gently caressing his back, firmly gripping his strong rear. Tormund groaned when Jon started touching his shaft, his cold hands gripping the redbeards hot and throbbing penis, gently stroking up and down.
I just ... can't stop myself. How can this be? I've never felt something like this before. Jon thought, while admiring the giant's equipment. Discarding all second thoughts and all reason, Jon prayed on the man's cock like a carnivorous monster, prowling upon it before finally taking a playful bite.
With a muffled groan Tormund voiced his agreement to Jon and his skills. As Jon started sucking on Giantsbane's cock, he was unable to muffle his groans anymore, he moved his hips in unison with the crows sucking motions, faster and harder, but not only did Jon suck, his tongue skillfully slid across Tormund's glands, covering them in sweet saliva while showing unfathomable pleasures to the giant redbeard. But Jon did not stop there, while his tongue discovered every nook and cranny of the hard cock Tormund was giving him, his hands massages his balls, first with some light touches and seconds later with hard stroking motions just like with his genital. But as the man Tormund was, he did not intend to give himself up to this little crow, he wanted to show him, what a true man was made of.
His hands grabbed Snow's head, further accelerating his up and down motions, pushing and pulling him without any regard to his will or the speed he wanted. The sound of flesh hitting flesh, the wet noises and the loud moans could be heard even outside of the tent. Now, both, Giantsbane and Snow, were groaning from pleasure, their eyes clouded, their minds dizzy. Every feet of their bodys was hot and tensed from the intense pleasure.
"Jon, I... I am coming!" Tormund yelled, his whole body stiffening and bending as if in pain.
Jon's tongue went on to discover and touch every fold and gland of the wildlings member, petting the shaft and squeezing around the head, tasting the drops of pre-cum, that were already leaking out until even the man of legends could not take any more pleasure and gave in to the incredible skilled crow's mouth. With a muffled groan, Jon took all of the giantslayers load, swallowing tons and tons of hot sperm, the penis ins mouth still twitching violently.
His mind was filled with a strange sense of achievement and he couldn't stop smiling in the process.
"That... was quite fast I think! Am I that good?"
"You may as well be crow... But there is more where that came from!"
In one fast motion, Tormund swiped Jon's feet from the ground and positioned himself behind him, grinning while doing so.
"Thank the gods that I packed everything important! This would hurt if I didn't have any fat with me!"
Jon was too confused about Tormund's rumbling to realize that the big guy was using a pack of fat, normally used to protect the skin from the harsh, cold air, on his ass!
"Here I come Crow!", Tormund roared while forcing his incredible member into Jon's Ass, filling his body with a burning hot sensation, feeling pleasure and pain at the same time, Jon moaned loudly and tried to move his body away from the unfamiliar sensation, but Tormund just grabbed the bastards rear, squeezed it and plunged even deeper into him. Jon's thought were reduced to "FAASTER!FAASTER!" and his loud groans that turned into lustful screams after some time could be heard through the whole wilding camp, resulting in a little crowd gathering outside of Tormund's tent. Even though both saw the crowd gathering, they did not mind. Two men sharing a bit of warmth was nothing out of the ordinary and the crowd would probably disperse soon, at least that was what they thought.
The soft warmth engulfing his member made the wilding lose even the last bit of common sense and jugdement, his movements grew even faster, pounding the rear of the young crow like someone with a spear, trying to kill a wild bear.
Meanwhile, Jon's thought focused on Tormund's thick and hot cock, piercing his insides and driving him close to blacking out from the sheer pleasure, he was feeling. His deep screams and moans were all that could be heard from him, while Tormund seemed to mumble something that sounded like "by the gods!" into his beard from time to time. He was panting heavily and moving his rear to the rhythm of the redbeard's hands and cock, back and forth, back and forth, screaming louder with every inch of dick that entered his ass. Not only were both moaning loudly at this point but they were also heavily sweating and panting noisily, ignoring the once cold air around them. It was clear to both that they were incredibly close to the climax. Tormund grabbed the crow's ass hard, leaving already visible bruises on his buttcheeks, but instead of pain, Jon felt even more hot pleasure, driving him to the edge and resulting in a jerk of his rear muscles, stimulating Tormund's already twitching member even more until the wilding bend his neck, let out an animalistic roar and plunged so deep into the Crow's ass that Jon thought he would be torn apart by the sheer size and power of the hard equipment that was Tormund's cock. Then Jon felt a warm and incredibly pleasurable feeling in his body, realizing that it was Giantsbane's cum, filling up his ass and dripping onto the rug, Jon couldn't help but cum from the unfathomable pleasure of being taken from behind, his sperm forming a little puddle on the now even more stained rug.
When they had settled down and their breathing had calmed, they realized that not only did the crowd not disperse but instead, some people peeked inside the tent through holes in the fabric. While Jon was paralyzed from the pleasure and the embarrassment he felt, Tormund slowly stood up and lifted a small part of the tent, unveiling his battle-tested body that was covered in muscles to the people.
"I have decided that tonight, we will celebrate! Every man and woman that are kissed by fire are welcome in my tent so that we can share each other's warmth! The little crow will also be joining us, as a ritual for finally accepting his true, free folk-self! I've got three barrels of met and a warmth tent, come join us!", he yelled to the crowd that either due to the impressive speech (and not being kissed by fire) or more likely due to the massive member greeting them from Tormund's hips, dispersed quickly.
Tormund smirked, having expected such a reaction from most of the people but his smirk suddenly grew into a broad smile as he saw a group of 6 wilding women making their way to his tent. Even though the cold air was biting and clawing at his bare skin, Tormund stood in the entrance of the tent without moving a muscle, only his glinting eyes and bright smile greeting the group of women.
"Giantsbane! We have decided to join you and the Crow in your celebrations, your big...", her eyes wandered down, caressing Tormund's member with her eyes, "...sword is a legend among women and all of us heard from Ygritte about the crow's skilled tongue. We left the men and son's to enter your tent, so you better not refuse us!", she said, while she took of the hood, revealing a mature and beautiful face, that was framed by fire-red hair and blood-red war paint.
"My name is Mara, these are Erza, Lilke, Ywen, Maru and Leena." Name after name, one of the women lifted her hood, revealing various shades of red hair and beautiful yet warrior-like faces, some grinning expectantly at Giantsbane's Cock, others looking away shyly or hiding their red faces behind their hands.
"Will you let us join?"
Giantsbane laughed lout and stepped inside his tent and opening the entrance even wider, showing them that they could enter, while laughing.
"I never expected so many to show up, I thought I would get rid of the people when I invited them in... But so many...Wake up little crow, tonight will a feast!"
The lustful screams that could be heard for the following three days not only added to Giantsbane personal legend but also made clear that killing Giants wasn't the only thing Tormund excelled at. Many of the not-redheaded wildings got depressed as Tormund's hunger for men and women seemed to be never satiated, resulting in around 30 people joining Tormund and Jon at the end of the third day. This orgy would have continued for a month at least if it wouldn't have been for Mance Ryder, that was issued by his generals to step in and stop the moral of the troops from declining any further. And even though he granted Tormund his fun with the Crow, he could not let his actions go unpunished as they were bad for the army.
And that's the story about why a group of 31 redheads, including the legendary Giantslayer and one Crow found themselves at the back of the track for two weeks, their heads aching from the alcohol and their bodies hurting from all the sex, given the order to clean up the shit left behind by the mammoths.