I had at last proved that Marion was not nearly so frigid as she would have wanted me to believe, and at the same tune I had also been roused to the most ferocious desire, as the aching pangs in my swollen prick insistently informed me. I went to the wall and touched the button, lowering the ropes that tractioned Marion’s beautiful arms above her head, and she slumped, moaning softly in the aftermath of her furious climax. Squatting, I untied the knots around her slim ankles and then quickly unsnapped the swivel-hooks of the pulleys and deftly lifted her up in my arms, my right arm under her stockinged calves, my left arm around her bare shoulders, and strode to the padded couch. I stared hungrily down at her panting bubbies and the stickied muff between her long, quivering thighs, signs of the fulfillment which my feathering and gamahuching had brought her. And now I was in the driver’s seat, so to speak, for I had not brutally raped her, nor could she claim such indignity. No, aloof and imperious Marion had to admit her own female weakness in this just-concluded bout of nervous excitement. For if she had been frigid, she would never have achieved the shuddering spend to which I had compelled her. And thus her attitude toward me was bound to have significant alteration, which could only be in my own favor.
As I carried her towards the couch, she slowly opened her eyes and stared at me, then her face turned a vivid scarlet, and she immediately closed her eyes again, with a faint “Ohh!
“I have freed you, as you entreated, my lovely sister-in-law to be,” I told her, “and now I shall take you at your word, that you will no longer resist my desires. Does your whipping still hurt you?”
“A-a little-Ohh, what must you think of me-I’m so ashamed to be like this, I can’t bear to look at you, sir,” she faltered, turning her face away from me and closing her eyes. I have no doubt that the spectacle of seeing herself carried naked in only her stockings and shoes, in the arms of a totally naked man who had first fucked her and then gamahuched her, was a really shattering blow to her cool poise and her affectatious haughtiness. And I was most curious, as you may well imagine, to know to what ends her new psychologically induced awareness of me would lead her.
I laid her down gently on the couch, telling her that I would bring her a glass of wine, but as I rose to leave her, Marion stammered, “Mayn’t I go to the W.C. a moment, please?”
To hear that once vibrantly timbered voice take on so plaintive and child-like a tone to ask such a question almost made me laugh, but I maintained a straight face and told her that of course she might have a few moments to freshen herself, adding with just a hint of malicious irony, so as to show her that I was still lord and master in the Snuggery, “When you return, Marion, leave off your shoes. You have no idea how charming you are in just those stockings and rosettes.”
At this she uttered another gasp, glancing down at herself as if for the first time, and the vivid color in her cheeks was evidence that she had lost completely the bold and insolent assurance she had brought with her at the outset of her visit to my apartment. As for myself, I settled myself in a chair near the couch and watched her walk to the bidet, observing how the magnificent spacious cheeks of her olive-sheened behind undulated and shifted with her rather hesitant tread.
For a moment I sat in rapt contemplation of the rosy future I had just assured myself. Yes, why not enter upon the sea of holy matrimony with delicious Alice, I asked myself. Certainly she was as tasty a morsel in bed as could be found, and in our era, when the hypocritical double standard of the male forbade the female to evince the slightest interest in sexual matters or to show-an even more heinous sin-the least ardor in conjugal relations, I surely could find no more amiable wife than sweet Alice, who was already my passionate, willing and submissive lover.
And now that I had this hold on her beautiful sister, I felt that I could summon Marion to my bed when I wished, to entertain her with my favors, and make my wife-to-be, Alice, as enthusiastic and conspiratorial an aide in subjugating Marion to my bed-urges as could be wished for. No, marriage would not ordain the slightest cessation of my activities; on the contrary, because of the mйnage I would have from the outset, it would be practically as uninhibited a life as could be lived in a Moorish harem.
These delightful thoughts occupied me until Marion emerged, her head bowed and not daring to look at me and-Oh, naive creature that a woman is, no matter what her age!-with one hand clasped shieldingly over the thatch of her cunt. She moved towards me, then stopped, obviously hesitant and suddenly shy, because now she was not acting under duress or the coercion of the bonds and fetters.
“Rest a bit, my dear,” I told her gently, “while I bring you a glass of wine. I am in need of one myself.”
“Mayn’t I-I put on a robe or something over me, sir?” she hesitantly murmured, still not daring to look up at me. “To be like this before you is-is so shameful… I-I feel like a fallen woman.”
“But I prefer you this way, Marion, exactly because you are a woman now, and perhaps for the first time in your life,” was my answer as I rose to fill the wine glasses and again, very surreptitiously, drop in another tiny dose of cantharides into hers. For now was definitely not the time for her to retrench from the passionate plateau to which I had so ingeniously brought her. She must not be allowed to go back to her once vaunted and arid realm of imperviousness. I came back to the couch on which she had seated herself, her thighs tightly clenched and with her hand still pressed tightly over her mossy groove. I handed her the glass and then clinked mine against it as I said cheerfully, “To our better understanding of each other, Marion, and to an ending of hostilities.”
I took a hearty sip of my wine, watching her intently all the while. Finally, with a certain sigh which appeared to be that of resignation, she lifted her glass to her quivering lips and sipped daintily at it.
“Come now, I mean it,” I urged. “We were enemies once, so let us be friends now, for it unthinkable that after what has occurred between us, you should still wish to be at my throat. Confess it now, Marion, did you not deserve your punishment?”
She shivered, and those beautiful bubbies of hers swiftly rose and fell, while the telltale crimson once more deeply colored her cheeks, as she at last whispered, “Is-is this the way you h-had my sister?”
“I will forget you have asked such an audacious question, my dear,” I chuckled “I am not the kind of man who boasts over his conquests or scabrously dwells on the details. It could only be offensive to another woman. Do you then forget Alice, for she is away from the city and you are here beside me. It is to you I pay my admiration for your beauty. Are we friends now?”
“You-you must give me a little time to gather my senses about me,” she petitioned in a low, sweet voice, while she continued to blush and avert her eyes from me. “It-it is like a terrible dream that I cannot believe I have dreamed… to find myself like this, so shamelessly unclothed, beside you whom I so detested.”
“And do you still?” I pursued as I moved closer to her. “Finish your wine before you answer.”
She did so, and I took the glass from her and set it down on the little tabouret near the couch, along with my own empty glass, and put my arm around her waist. She shivered violently and tried to move a little away from me.
“Do you still?” I repeated.
“I-I don’t know what to think, either of myself or of you, sir,” was her faltered answer.
“But you will admit that, just now, what I did to you was not so displeasing and that you did experience some pleasure from it?”
“Oh, please, I dare not think of such things… I am your prisoner and your victim, I am helpless and I cannot resist you longer, I know. Please, sir, do not shame me further by talking to me this way, I beg of you!” the black-haired young woman stammered.
“Very well, then we shall not talk, for I am disposed to action. Look down there,” I ordered as I took one of her slim hands and drew it toward my sinewy thigh. She gasped and blinked her eyes, shrinking a back a little, for she had just gazed upon my boldly swollen prick.
“It is you who have put me into this state, Marion, and it is you who must now alleviate my pangs,” I added smilingly.
“Oh, will you not be content with what you have had from me now? Is that not a sign that I am contrite for what I did to you?” she implored.
I pondered a moment. Now I had compelled Alice under the lash to submit to bottomfucking, but I very much doubted I could bring Marion to voluntary submission to this demanding ritual. Possibly I could ultimately train her to frig me sweetly before the conclusion of this afternoon, but I also doubted that she would of her own accord salute my prick with her sweet lips and tongue. Of course, after the interlude with Lady Betty Bashe and her daughter Molly, Alice had sucked and tongued me, as had her lovely maid Fanny and the lovely young widow Connie. But to expect so salacious and intimate a procedure from the so-recently embattled brunette beside me during the course of a single afternoon-even granting I had already altered her concepts of fucking and loveplay to an incredible extent-would be much too greedy. I was content to pursue the rehabilitation of Marion at a leisurely gait, for only a greedy glutton seeks to eat up all the tidbits at a single repast. And the prospect of having more delightful games to play with her and things to teach her in the future was certainly an enticing one.
So, tightening my arm about her bare waist and moving until my naked thigh pressed firmly against hers, I whispered, “But if I were to let you go now, Marion, you would never really know my feelings toward you. You would not conceive their true sincerity. I wish you to believe this, for it is the truth. And as for yourself, you have not yet answered my question. Did you not, there at the last when I was kneeling before you, find greater pleasure than your husband had ever given you?”
“Oh, please-I don’t dare speak of such a thing. Please be satisfied, sir, and don’t press me.”
“You must call me Jack now, for we are soon to be related by marriage,” I chuckled, as I took one of her hands and held it in mine, my eyes feasting on the turbulent rise and fall of her splendid bubbies. “But I do insist on an answer, or I am very much afraid I shall have to treat you to another taste of the whip on your lovely bottom. And this time, Marion, I shall tie you down over that piano stool, which will project the cheeks of your naughty behind upward in a most tight and inviting way, to make the whip bite much more cruelly than you felt it before.”
“Oh, no-I couldn’t bear any more. Please, no! Oh, J-Jack, how can you be so heartless toward me?” and she turned her beautiful dark blue eyes to me, filled with tears. She was absolutely devastating in this new penitent and submissively fearful mood!
“The fact of the matter is, my dear Marion,” I replied, “that your marriage failed because you were mated to an incompetent oaf who did not realize what a sensitive, charming and utterly desirable girl you are.” At this she shivered a little and stared wonderingly at me. Once again I had found a key to her personality: for all she referred to herself as “Alice’s strict aunt” there could be no doubt that she was susceptible to flattery and that she had a vain streak in her makeup.
Pressing my advantage, therefore, I resumed: “That is undoubtedly why you were unhappy with him. That is also why, as moreover you yourself plainly intimated a little while ago, you had such a low opinion of me, and you lumped me with this intolerable and dull-witted boor. Now, you asked me just a moment ago what methods I had used to seduce your sister. Well, I will tell you this: she is now unshakably my sweetheart because I knew how to plumb her emotional depths and to bring her to the happiness which she did not realize was latent within her own lovely body. That can be done only by a man who has both appreciation and consideration for a woman whom he possesses. And I thus promise you that I believe I can change your contemptuous opinion of men if you will surrender yourself and let me take the initiative I know best how to take.”
“You-you mean you want to h-have me again?” she whispered as her blushes deepened furiously this time.
“I do indeed. Was it so horrible then for you, just after your whipping?” again I demanded.
I felt her shivering against the circle of my left arm. She bowed her head and finally, after a long moment, slowly shook it.
“There, you see, Marion,” I exulted, “because what I did was not out of selfishness at all, but solely to convince you that you were capable of the deepest and most loving emotions a passionate woman can have. And since I have thus allayed your fears of how a man can act when he has imagination, do you now submit yourself so that together we may both achieve pleasure from this afternoon’s engagement.”
“If-if only it wasn’t so w-wanton, J-Jack,” she quavered. “If it were at night and the lights out and we couldn’t see each other-”
“But that would be to deny the feast of love which is provided as surely through the eyes as through the rest of our bodies, Marion,” I smilingly explained. “And now, enough of talk. You have said you will submit yourself, and I now call upon you to redeem that pledge. You have my word that I will not hurt you if you so surrender.”
Her little nod was again one of resignation, followed by a deep sigh of almost melancholic proportions. I rose, then gently cupped her panting bubbies and gently forced her down upon her back. The couch was amply wide and long, and as she lay cushioned there upon it, clad in only those black silk hose and the flouncy rosettes, I stood for an idyllic moment contemplating her delicious charms, while she put a hand over her face in the most charmingly childlike of gestures.
“Now, Marion, I am going to make love to you in such a way that when we come together, you will be eager for me as well as ready,” I told her.
With this, I knelt down and, almost reverently cupping her right bubbie with both my hands, began to kiss it gently and slowly, covering the luscious pear-shaped globe with tender, grazing little kisses, but at first avoiding the aureole and nipple. Marion’s free hand lay at her side, as she continued to cover her eyes with the other, and I glanced quickly down at her legs and noticed that her dainty toes were curling and twisting, a sign that she was torn between anxiety and enervation. The cantharides would be my ally now, I knew. Already her nipples were darker and more turgid than when I had first stripped her and reveled in the first view of her delectable nudity.
“Do you find this distressing?” I murmured, as I brushed my lips just over the dark coral lovebud.
“N-no. Ohh-ohh, n-no!” she breathed.
I now took the nipple between my tips and delicately sucked it. Marion uttered a strangled gasp and suddenly put her hand against my forehead, as if to shove me away, so I sternly commanded, “You are not to interfere or to forbid me anything now, on pain of a good sound whipping over the piano stool, my girl,” and then I took her nipple between my lips and this time slowly ran my tongue over the crinkly bud.
Marion squirmed on the couch, and now her hand resumed its place over her eyes, while she turned her head towards the back of the couch so as to hide from me. Her free hand was now clenched, the nails dug into her dainty palm, as no doubt she tried to steel herself against all these new sensations which, although she had been a married woman for three years, she had never tasted until this very afternoon.
Continuing to cup her bubbie with my left hand, I now moved my right down over her belly, caressing it in a most soothing manner. Her thighs were still clenched, and nervous spasms made the muscles flex exquisitely under the warm, olive skin, quite visible through the fine gauge of her black silk stockings. As my right hand lowered down to the abdomen where her black silky love-hairs began to flourish, she uttered a gasp and again her free hand clutched at mine.
“Do that again,” I told her,” and over the stool you go, Marion, and you will have at least twenty cuts over your naked bottom, so be warned.”
At this she drew her hand away as if she had touched a red-hot stove, and now covered her face with both hands, shivering in a paroxysm of apprehension and nervous titillation. I thereupon resumed my sucking and tonguing of her swollen and darkened nipple, while I passed my right hand over the plump mound of her cunt, and I began to stroke the silky thick curls which veiled that amorous orifice.
I felt her thighs stiffen as she summoned all her muscles to her defense. My forefinger entered through the thicket and found the moist twitching outer labia of her cunt. “Ohh! Oh, please don’t tickle me there! Please don’t, Jack,” she moaned, and again she rushed a hand to grasp at my wrist.
“You know what I promised you, Marion,” I said sternly. “I am going to tie you down over the stool very firmly and give you a whipping you won’t forget for disobeying my orders.”
“Oh, Jack, please-Oh, please don’t! Please don’t be cruel to me now. You’ve already whipped me so hard-please don’t, Jack! It’s all so new to me, Jack Please be merciful to me and don’t wh-whip me again,” she pleaded brokenly.
“Then will you give me your solemn word not again to restrain me or make me take my hand away while I am preparing you for love, Marion?” I demanded.
“Y-yes-ohh, I never dreamed a man could do such things to a woman-oh, hurry then, before I die of my shame,” Marion groaned.
Thus given carte blanche, I nibbled at her swollen nipple for a bit, then let my right forefinger slip between the fleshy, moist outer lips of her slit to find her clitoris. The moment I touched it, she uttered a sobbing gasp of “Ohh, please, you mustn’t tickle me there, you’ll kill me, you’ll drive me crazy touching me there! Oh Jack, if you’ve any feeling for me at all, don’t do that!”
“It’s because I do have feeling for you that I do what I do, so let’s have no more complaints, my girl, or it will be over the stool with a vengeance,” I warned.
All this while, dear reader, I could feel the rigidity of my prick savagely insisting upon alleviation, but fortunately I was able to master the urge, because I knew what delicious bliss I could accomplish by purposeful prolongation with my beautiful, enervated captive.
My forefinger began to graze her clitoris this way and that, till finally with a sobbing groan, Marion lifted up her knees and dug her stockinged heels into the couch, flexing her muscles and wriggling her toes in a very dither of sensual awareness. Her head also began to move restlessly from side to side, and now she had removed her hands from her face and had them clenched just to the side of her panting bubbies. I moved forward to attack her left breast now, my lips at once attacking the perky bud, sucking and nibbling at it, while my tongue tip flicked at it repeatedly. Her low groans and sobbing little whimpering cries excited me enormously, and it was all I could do to remain deliberately calm so I could be the mentor and guide to Marion’s first really cooperative fuck.
This new attack brought me into closer proximity with Marion’s naked flesh, and she gasped again as my forefinger pressed her clitoris down into its secretive lair of pink, moist warm loveflesh. I heard her groan, “Ohh my Lord! Ohh!” and then her knees clamped and her bottom squirmed in an unmistakable rhythm of response. My finger and the cantharides had begun to waken her long-rejected passions to the kindling point; I had now ignited a fire in her womb which needs must be put out with the extinguishing jet of my virile spunk. But I wished that blaze to be so incendiary that it would consume her entirely and thus purge her forevermore of her affected aloofness.
My tongue rubbed against her throbbing nipple as I sucked and loudly kissed the sweet turgid bud. Now my left hand slipped under her shoulders, and our bodies thus conjoined. Her knees swung apart and her stockinged heels rubbed erratically back and forth over the surface of the couch as she became gradually overpowered by the myriad sensations teeming in her matrix. Yet deliberately I continued to frig her stiffened lovebutton, which would soon knell the doom of her prodigious chastity. For that chastity came out of denial of self as well as denial by the stupid selfishness of her former husband, and I had no pity on it because it would destroy her and sour and dry her up before her time. I meant her to burgeon as a true woman, perhaps more passionate even than lovely Alice had become.
Now I left her bubbies to glide my lips down her waist and to her belly, pausing lingeringly at her sweet navel, which I licked all around with the tip of my tongue, as she arched and squealed, “Aaahh! What are you doing to me, Jack? I can’t stand all this-I’m going to faint, I know I am!”
Every time my finger pressed down her clitoris, her body jerked and arched and wriggled in the most fascinating way. And then-oh, miracle of conversion-I suddenly felt her arms grasp my neck, but not in hostility. Her fingers were trembling as they pressed against my flesh with a kind of pleading urge to go on with what I was doing. And thus Marion first gave me her womanly accolade, which bestowed on me the right and the might to topple her citadels of prudery, pernicious chastity, and hypocritical frigidity!
I glanced at her as I continued to suck and nibble at her left bubbie-bud, the while my right forefinger continued its titillation of her turgid clitoris. Her eyes were wide and glassy now, and it was not entirely the effect of the cantharides which had brought this about. Her nostrils flared and shrank interminably and her lips were parted and moist, her face turned slowly from side to side as if seeking restlessly some point of comfort, some fulcrum of repose which was denied her. But her lovely slim hands were clasped together just above her bosom and her fingers were twisting nervously in her stress. My chest pressed down upon her right bare bubbie, and I felt to my exultation the shuddering upheaval of that luscious globe, the rasping friction of her stiffened dark coral nipple against my prickling skin. For a moment I left off tickling her lovebutton so that I might frig the inner lips of her cunt, and Marion moaned, “Ohh, Jack, Oh dear God, I can’t stand it, I just can’t, I’m going to faint, I know I shall!”
“Are you ready to be had, then, my dear?” I hoarsely asked her, for I must admit that by now my own powers of control were waning fast.
“Oh yes, yes. Do what you want to me, before I go mad with all this torture,” she gasped.
“Then you must ask me to fuck you, Marion,” I replied. How I savored that graphic, colorful word, which conjures up in the mind all the salacious images of welded bodies, straining flesh, soft trembling lips and flaring nostrils, the sweet dig of agitated supple fingers under the tension of lustful frictional impalement!
“Jack, what are you making of me-what have you done to me-Ahh! Ohh! How it tickles, how it burns me there!” she panted as my forefinger now returned to frig her swollen love-button. Her knees rose further into the air, her stockinged heels digging restlessly at the couch, spurning it as once she had wished to spurn me in her vengeful and haughty mood. But now this spurning was of a different caliber, induced by the womanly pangs which now beset her vitals. Now she had been stripped to the moment of truth and it was approaching for her in the devastating and over-powering compulsion of all her carnal lusts! For assuredly she felt these, just as I, the male dominator, experienced the glory of my virile rut.
“I want to hear you say that, Marion, or I shall have recourse to the whip again,” I warned. Tell me you are ready to be fucked, my beauty. Ask me humbly and sweetly to fuck you, Marion!”
And with this, I gouged my forefinger between the inner lips and on into her tight, warm sheath, exactly as I meant to do with my fulminating prick.
Her hips weaved and jerked about, then her knees flung out, only to clamp shut again as she arched up her pelvic basin to the inroads of my fingers. It was as if she had given up the struggle and was now yielding up her body to its own volition, its own greedy and hungry quest for satisfaction. No longer could stately, haughty Marion boast of the veneer which had protected her and at once blighted her married life. Now she was melted into wanton flesh and throbbing sinews and nerves and hot veins and pulsing membranes that burned with a single furious fire… the fire of uninhibited lust!
“Aahh-oh, Jack-Oh my Lord-yes, ooohhh-don’t tickle me there any more, please-oh yes, f-fuck me instead, oh yes, please fuck me now!” at last my beautiful captive averred in a sobbing, husky voice!
I mounted onto the couch, lying on my left side towards her, slipping my left arm under her shoulders, and I pressed on her trembling lips the most passionate of kisses. Her lips opened under mine, and I delved my tongue in between them to take prompt and gracious advantage of her sweet, helpless invitation. A shudder seized her as my right hand boldly glided round her hip and under her firm juicy bottom, reveling in its warmth from the lashing and from the additional glow of her own smoldering womanly passions.
“Put your left arm around me, Marion,” I commanded, and was obeyed. “Now with your other hand feel for yourself to what a state you have brought my cock.”
“Oh, I could never do that-don’t make me do such a thing-oh, you wicked man to ask so much of a helpless woman! Aren’t you satisfied with this? You have shamed and disgraced me, defeated me, and I have begged you to do that to me which I never thought I would want any man to do again, after Harry-and still you are not satisfied?” she sobbed.
Now was the time for me to be harsh and relentless with my captive, if ever I wished to make her my love slave, and that was why I cynically retorted, “I can as easily strap you down on this couch with your bottom upturned to the whip if you continue to act like a spoiled and pampered child! Reach down your hand and take hold of my cock. You are going to guide it to your cunt, Marion. Yes, your cunt, my girl. Did your famous Harry ever use that word, Marion?”
“Ohh!” she gasped in an aghast tone, her eyes fixed on me in anguished appeal.
“What did he call it, then?” I asked, as I seized her hand and brought it down upon my stalwart prick.
“Oh, don’t make me tell you-Oh, please take me, have me but don’t shame me in this unendurable way, Jack!” Marion whimpered.
I forced her hand down upon my hard, rigid weapon. She tried to draw it away, but I held it in a vise of steel as I went on: “Grasp it Feel it. Put your fingers over it, and learn its dimensions. Squeeze it gently. It will soon be inside of you, my girl, and you must know its measure and girth so as to prepare yourself for it.”
Trembling, her slim long fingers gripped my bulging shaft and-oh what delicious pleasure was in that sweet touch of hers-doubtless the first time she had so held a man in all her life, even as wife and consort.
“I will not only use the whip on your bottom, I will use a feather in between the cheeks of that impertinent backside,” I threatened. “Speak. Tell me how he described that place I have been tickling. At once!”
I felt her fingers convulsively clutch against my prong as she forced herself to utter in a dying voice, “My-my p-pussy. Oh, Jack, now you know everything about me, you have all my dreadful secrets, and I am so ashamed!”
“Shame is exactly what turned you into a hateful jade, Marion,” I declaimed. “From this moment on I shall change all that. And now prepare yourself for fucking, my beauty. Go ahead, pass your fingers all over my cock and balls. Discover for yourself what is going into that tight, eager cunt of yours-for I know it is eager now. You cannot deny any longer your own desires, for your flesh betrays you, Marion.”
She put her hand over her eyes again, while with the other she docilely though hesitantly palpated my aching prong. I kissed her trembling lips and then the hollow at her throat, where I could feel the triphammer, pressing pulse in the feverish cadence of her life-rhythm. Her skin was moist and sweet as never before, and her naked body writhed and squirmed on the couch, and now the cantharides were doing their work along with her first honest affirmation of her sensual yearnings:
“Now prepare yourself for the sacrifice, Marion,” I told her. Then I mounted between her quivering stockinged legs, kneeling and lowering myself towards her, my prick bobbing like a cork on an angry sea as I commanded, “Take your hand and open up that sweet, inviting cunt of yours to welcome me!”
She groaned and turned her face to one side, but all the same, her sweet, trembling hand did as bidden. Oh wonder of delight, to watch this transformation in a virago who had become a passionate and submissive slave in so short a span!
Guiding my cock with my right hand, I approached it to the pink, twitching, moist aperture and let the broad head of my spear engage itself just inside the lobby of her exquisite cunt Then, tightening my grip under her shoulders with my left arm, I slowly lowered myself. As she felt my pride press between the inner lips of her citadel, Marion uttered a sobbing groan: “Oh, Jack! Oh my Lord! Jack, Jack!” and then suddenly, miraculously, her bare arms enfolded me as if to bring me down upon her. Her eyes closed, her head flung back, her nostrils flaring and shrinking wildly, my sister-in-law to be thus symbolically gave up the final vestige of her resistance and welcomed the man she had sworn to defame and degrade and destroy!
I slowly felt myself sink to the very balls inside that narrow sheath, and words cannot depict the thousand and one raptures I felt in gouging along that heavenly channel of Venus. My left hand passed under her bottom, to support as well as steer her, to inculcate in her the meaning of the thousand subtle signs by which a man informs his lover of his pace, his gait, his cadence in the sweet art of fucking. Her fingertips pressed harshly into my back, and this too was an additional joy to me. For it was as if she had been reborn and was awaiting tensely and vibrantly the moment of voracious passion to which her beauty entitled her, to which her long-denied ardent personality had shaped her, only to be warped by the lusterless and selfish initiation of a doltish husband.
Slowly I drew myself back to the very brink of her cunt, and a long gasp evinced her pleasure in this maneuver. My lips on hers, my tongue delving repeatedly along the roof and the gums of her mouth, I savored her sweet nectar, while my prick foraged with long slow digs to the very ell-length of my weapon and then back to the quaking portals that guarded the way into her mature matrix.
“Am I hurting you now, Marion?” I demanded.
“Ohhh-ohh-Jack-n-no oh Lord-is this possible? Oh, I am trembling all over, I am going to faint away-it’s unbearable-oh Jack-oh please-oh-oh-oh!”
Now both my hands slipped down to the velvety warm cheeks of her bottom and, gripping them solidly, I began to quicken my pace within her agitated, squirming cunt; with long skewering thrusts, I furrowed her, and her body began to jerk and twist and arch under my repeated prongings. Now, to my utter bliss, she was kissing me of her own accord, and her fingers were digging into my bare shoulders and gouging the skin in her agitated enervation, in her longing to meet me more than half way along the road of rut!
To feel her naked bubbies flatten against my heaving chest, to feel our bodies clash in a sweet conflict which was a thousand-fold distant from that conflict which she had promised me upon her visit, to feel best of all the damping, tightening, constricting pressures of her vaginal wall against my embedding prick was to taste the most bounteous rapture of which man is capable on this ephemeral earth.
I ground my teeth to hold back my frenzied, bubbling spunk, so that I could bring her with me to that apex of amorous ecstasy. Now each time my prick delved down to the hilt inside of her, Marion uttered a little whimpering sigh and clutched me all the tighter, and now her legs came into play as she wound her stockinged calves tightly against my sinewy legs and gave herself up totally to the abandonment of all her former prudery.
How her bottomcheeks clenched and flexed and jerked against my digging fingers! Her eyes were hugely dilated, glazed and unseeing as they stared into my looming face, and her mouth attacked mine now with a voracity which could not have been believed an hour or so ago.
I quickened the stabbing momentum of my thrusts, feeling myself almost upon the brink of explosive fury. I felt her bottom jerk and bound and arch as she met me, plying me with her velvety flesh, digging herself against me to take every inch into her very depths.
And then suddenly, with a wild cry, Marion twisted her face to one side, her nails pitilessly digging into my armpits, and a loud shriek clamorously burst from her; I felt her body heave and buck against mine as, with a final savage fury, I drew myself back and thrust myself to the hilt, and then felt my prick vibrate with the hot lashing vigor of my seed into her warm, tight sheath.
As she felt that hot gismic tribute burst against the tender flesh of her womb, Marion uttered another loud cry and pressed her lips to mine as she lifted herself to absorb all of me.
And then it was over, and she lay moaning and gasping, with me atop her, my limpening prick still burrowed in her quaking cunt. The moment of truth had come for Marion. She was beyond dissembling now; all her body vibrated and shook with the tempestuous elemental fury that had overpowered her and made her mine.