Author's Note: I do love Kristanna. I've been wanting to write them for a while. The story (in the loosest sense of the word - it's rather short to be a "story", but I digress) takes place in summer. The author assumes Olaf and Sven stayed at the castle and did not tag along, or otherwise Kristoff threatened them.

Warning: Definitely a strong M for smut. Scenes of a sexual nature and all that sort of thing. The title is such a bad pun. I will understand if I receive rotten fruit thrown in my general direction for it.

~BD

Extended Education

He has no idea where she ever learned this.

It isn't as though the castle library has books on the subject (that he knows of, anyways). It isn't as if her sister would know (would she? He isn't sure and really, he doesn't want to know...). The older maids would consider it too uncouth to speak of such a subject in the presence of a princess; the younger maids wouldn't dare to give her advice because they likely value their positions.

He swallows thickly. Her hands are ghosting down his thighs, and her lips brush her stomach, then his hipbone. He tries to speak, but his mouth is dry and he certainly can't formulate coherent words. Her hair, shimmering in the warm sunlight, looks to be on fire; it certainly feels that way as it brushes against him, tickling slightly.

He tries to speak again. "A-Anna... What are you... d-nygh... Whatareyoudoing?"

She shushes him, her eyes flashing mischievously. Where in God's name did she learn to be so seductive? He sure as hell didn't teach her. They've only been at this a couple of months now, and he was nearly as inexperienced as she was in the beginning.

His breath hisses in sharply as her lips, which have been placing slow, firm kisses over his lower abdomen, shift to graze the tip of his erection instead. One her hands drift up and her fingers smear through the sprinkling of pale golden hair around his navel; his blood rushes painfully to his groin and his muscles strain slightly in effort to remain still. He stammers her name again, but she ignores him. Slowly, her mouth encases his tip, her tongue laves a long stroke against the aching, seeping slit before swirling around the head. He clenches his hands in the grass around him, unintentionally pulling thick clumps up by the roots as she bobs down an inch or so, and presses her tongue against the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock.

His vision blurs and he blinks rapidly; his breath begins to come in painful gasps and Anna continues to work her mouth slowly, deliberately over him. He wonders wildly if she has any bloody idea what the hell she's doing to him. No one will find them here, of all places, in this hidden mountain meadow only he knows of... and the thought is suddenly immediate in his brain: No one knows they came all the way up here today. Anna wanted to... Oh God...nygh... What had she wanted to do, again? Wildflowers, perhaps? Something about wildflowers... Had she lied to him? Had she really been planning to give him mind-blowing oral sex the entire way up?

He moans her name desperately as her lips move down further and his tip brushes the roof of her mouth, near her throat. She begins to move up and down in a fast, eager rhythm. Her teeth scrape his skin, her tongue laps wetly against him. He bows against the tree he's leaning against, and tries to keep his knees from clenching around her small shoulders. Can't hurt her... He would never hurt her...

She grips his thighs a little harder, her neat, short, manicured nails digging into his flesh, and he whimpers desperately at the sensation. It's quite likely the best thing he's ever felt in his life, and God, his Anna is the one doing it to him.

And then, suddenly, she takes him out of her mouth. He utters a cry of protest, his eyes widening and his legs relaxing a bit. His erection feels cool and tingly in the mountain air, damp from her mouth, but before he can ask why she stopped and if she can't please start again, she begins to kiss down the underside of his throbbing cock until she reaches the root, where she licks him affectionately before she takes one of his aching balls in her mouth.

"Anna!"

Her name rips from his throat and more grass comes out of the ground as his hands frantically try to find some kind of purchase, some anchor as his head swims and his blood burns. His knees tighten once more around her frame and, bloody hell, she giggles. She damned well giggles, and the thrumming vibrations of her mouth and throat tingle around his balls and skate up his cock and spread through his body to the ends of his fingers and toes. He comes immediately, without any chance to warn her of what's about to happen. He can only see bursts of light against his scrunched eyelids; his throat feels sore from a hoarse yell that rips out of his chest. His body seems to explode deliciously, and then implode upon itself, and when he's finally able to open his eyes again, the light is almost too bright as it filters through the leafy trees on the edge of the rippling sea of grass around them. He can hardly catch his breath and he gasps for air like a dying man, before he realizes the unmistakable stickiness covering his thighs and belly.

And then he remembers why he came and he jerks his focus to Anna, who – to his shock and embarrassment – has globs of white, milky seed on her face and in her hair, and looks slightly startled but pleased at the end result of her ministrations.

"Oh God, Anna! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to..." His words run together and his face burns hotly; he reaches for her with the intent of hugging her and cleaning her face with his nearby shirt. But she merely sits back on her heels, nude and rosy and lightly freckled in the summer sunlight, and she grins at him as she wipes her face with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine!" she insists happily, her eyes dancing. "Really. Did you like that?" Her voice is eager; she looks almost like a child expecting praise for a job well done.

He gapes at her and blurts, "Did I like it? I... you... You just... Where the hell did you learn...?"

For the first time since they stepped into the meadow and clothing began to shed, she blushes. Shyly, she murmurs, "Uh, love experts? They, um... well, they thought it might be useful if I knew how to... how to do that. The women said you'd like it and of course I was all for it if you would like it! So... um.. Did you?" she asks, glancing up tentatively. "Did you like it? Did I do it right?"

He stares at her, completely lost for words, before he feels faint. Bloody hell.

~FIN~