“Oh! Georges… oh… c’est mdchant… oh… pas devant ma patronne… not before her… Georges… in there… oh… mon amour…“ she murmured and yet her voice was suffused with a voluptuous thralldom that evinced her willingness to do all with her body that her mind might hesitate to conjecture! “Please… sweetheart… for me… for your Georges who loves you… and wants you terribly… say you will… sweet Marie beautiful Marie… whose body is the living statue of the goddess of love herself!” he entreated and his mouth waxed amorous upon her shoulder-hollow, her throat, her soft, sweet chin.
Blushing, her face averted, Marie approached her trembling fingers… toward… his crotch!
And there, encountering the zipper, which gave access to his loin-secret, which her flesh demanded knowledge of, she pulled it down, sighed passionately and, stepping closer to him, placing her left hand around his naked waist, introduced her right hand shamelessly into the gap of his trousers…
“Oh! Marie, you little sweetheart, you darling! How wonderfully gracious you are in love, my Marie!” he exclaimed hoarsely; and as he spoke, her fingers drew forth the already sturdy lancehead of his ram of carnal lust!
And now, looking at him with wide, humid eyes in which the light of passion was kindled and from which the shadow of sham~ and inhibition had long since fled, she approached her parted lips desiringly toward his mouth and her fingers writhed and dug into his naked back as he took that offering of her sweet, nectared lips… and her right hand now drew the full assertion of his penis from its hidden moorings and cupped in her enchanting, throbbingly warm palm the rigorous lance-tip of his male desire!
By this assertion, she might gauge his will with her self-sacrificed flesh; by this ramrod’s urgency and throbbing readiness, she knew the candor of his passionate desire for her body’s golden-tendriled shrine-and this was sincere and measurable and true, whereas all the pretense of Marcia was a sham-an unreal, fantastic dream of supercilious conceit and meaningless affectation! it was true that the Russian nobility flogged and mistreated their servants; but it was true then as it was now that often the servants were more worthy of love and more proficient in, it, than their titled, snobbish, perfumed and – ornately gowned mistresses!
Verily, Marie had forgotten, it seemed, her plaintive fear that her mistress might see for without caring, oblivious to all but her intense delight at caressing thus and being so caressed by the harbinger of passion which throbbed its captivity only temporarily in the warm confine of her dainty little hand, she darted her tongue between his eager lips and her left hand swept his back voluptuously, palpating and tracing the hollow of his spine, digging her nails into his flesh when a too menacing convulsion of his captive penis made her flesh tingle with the thrilling promise of his virile lust for her quim-shrine!
And he entwined his tongue with hers and their mouths drank the nectar of delirium together.
“Oh… I cannot wait to have you, Marie… I must… I need you now!” he groaned, loath to quit the amorous offering of her willing mouth.
She sank on her knees, overcome by this passionate demand and to prove her readiness to meet its sensual conditioning, bowed her golden head, her lustrous golden head and, kneeling, naked, save for sandals and flesh-hued sheaths that rose so exquisitely upon her rounded, white, firm thighs, cupped his penis in her palms and held it toward her seeking, moistened mouth.
And she bestowed a searing kiss upon the fiery head and pressed her tongue an instant upon the moistened slit of his turgid ramrod!
What was Marcia’s consternation now!
Her eyes almost protruding from their sockets, her throat constricted by a revulsing spasm, her body tense with the attack of this ordeal upon her vaunted arrogance, she watched, a sheathed statue of furious indignation, chagrin and deepest shame!
Marie’s tongue-tribute was too much for Georges to, bear.
Groaning aloud, trembling with unfulfilled lust, he, stooped, he grasped her under the armpits and dragged her swooning, shivering naked body to him; then, feverish with eagerness to have his way upon her flesh and punish her ecstatically for her delicious offense of prong-robbing-for it was all he could do to restrain his vigorous insemination from saturating her amorous mouth with ardent libation-he caught her up in his arms, one arm supporting her shoulders, the other under her silken-embraced knees and carried her toward the distant bedroom!
Marcia watched. She saw Marie’s white, rounded, naked arms clasp her lover’s neck in an access of abandon… she saw the masked stranger cross the threshold, lay Marie’s swooning body on the great nuptial bed-they would surely bar the door to her vision now! And spare her this final torture of crushed self-respect!
But no!
Heedless of the fact that the door yawned open, that Marcia might behold from where she stood,.pinioned and trembling and repulsed, Georges quickly doffed his trousers and his shoes and she beheld his bronzed, sinewy buttocks, his lean and well-proportioned legs…
Despite herself, she blushed.
She was to blush again and more than again!
For now, naked, eager, he clambered on the bed.
Marie lay, on her back, one lovely silken sheathed knee upraised, her head turned to one side, her hands quivering, in search of solace, on her heaving breasts!
He lay upon his side, facing her, slipping one arm under her shoulders and drew her to him, while with his right hand he stroked her side her breasts and shivering, satiny belly.
She turned… turned gladly, acquiescently, to him and joined her mouth with his, linking the white, palpitating chain of glorious, rounded, naked arms around his neck.
He thrust his right leg between her thighs; nor did she dissuade him, but her head sank back, allowing his mouth to drink its fill of her moist, amorous ambrosia… wishing him to take that other hidden nectar which had its mystic source in the shivering confines of her abandoned pussytemple!
His right hand guided his penis toward her pouting slit…
Marcia saw his buttocks contract and writhe and heard Marie groan with a feverish ecstasy.
Now, with a surge against and into her, he implanted his shaft into her tempestously yielding cuntchasm.
And, rolling her upon her back, following her, glued and welded to her, he mounted her, rider upon amorous and panting, willing, swooning steed.
Her arms clasped him to her passionately; she arched her body up to meet his downward thrust of impalement and Marcia saw his sinewy posterior writhe again as with a tremendous thrust Georges imbedded his all of cockhood into the acceptant haven of Marie’s golden-downed quimfurrow!
Her left leg straddled over his right and thus she distended her grotto of delight onto his lancelust; his left-leg pinioned over her right; this cleavage was intensely lubricious, for it proved that both partners yearned for complete cunt and prick communion-to enjoy the maddening torture-bliss of deep imbedding and anguished self impalement!
His hands clipped her fragrant armpits, downed so sweetly with the golden shadow of her woman-hair… his lips crushed hers and tongues played a thrilling duet of excitation.
Sighs… moans… incoherent words of passion emanated from the nuptial chamber. Marcia had closed her eyes, but her ears she could not close to the lecherous onomatopoeia of carnal worship of the male and female in divine rut fulfillment!
The bed became rumpled… Marie writhed like a serpent, pressing her lover closer, closer against her, flattening her breasts against his panting chest, turning her head from side to side; and he, restless and hungry for her lips, refused to quit his lips from hers, following her every movement with greedy savoring.
Not alone in delight was the frictioning communion of rasping prong against the walls of willing cunt; the grinding lubricity of female pubic hair against male was equally maddening to the lovers and Marie writhed her loins so furiously against her lover’s crotch that he must endow himself with all his power of restraint to keep from ending too soon this entrancing bout of fornicating bliss!
Marcia closed her eyes again, overcome by the turbulent spectacle of lust unleashed.
But this did not render her immune to what was taking place, to what was humiliating her beyond a degree she had conceived possible.
For suddenly she heard Marie’s sweet voice- throbbing, acutely nuanced with the tone of frenzied desire-call out, “Oh… Georges! Oh darling… give it to me … hard… oh… take all of me… I want to be yours ooooh… yes… darling… that’s it deeper… all the way… don’t spare me ram and have me … punish me… oooohahhhh… Georges!”
Marcia, compelled by the agitation of that sensually harmonious appeal, opened her eyes once more: it was as if a power within her psyche compelled her to this witnessing of emotional communion which she had denied herself all these arrogant years.
And she beheld a lascivious pantomime!
Unable to endure the torment-bliss which rasped her velvety cuntwalls, maddened by the mounting excess of rending, cumulative lechery which absorbed her being, Marie had thrown both her legs about her lover, raising them up and knitting her silken-kissed chiseled calves over his writhing, heaving buttocks, thus pinioning her ravisher to her self-martyred loins with the same intense submission whereby her arms tightened around his neck.
The naked body of the masked man loomed over that delectable, contorted body of the blond maid, welding, adhering to it carnally.
Disheveled by her furious tossings, the golden chignon had come undone and on the pillow Marcia could see the lustrous silken wealth spread caressingly, erotically.
Georges’ hands now cupped Marie’s firm, juttingly rounded breasts, pressing his fingers tensely into the heaving, velvety flesh of those wonderful globes; his mouth sucked hers dry with longing, his tongue pirouetting amorously against her humid mouthwalls and with deep, burrowing strokes, he granted her her request.
Her golden head turned this way and that; her calves clasped and unclasped over his contracting bottom with a fierce and restless agitation; she seemed to lift herself up from the sheets to hurl her shrine of cuntdom against the weapon which greedily and masterfully buried itself to the testicles within that sanctified and sensual temple of delight.
And Marcia groaned with horror at the release of lust incarnate and all her puritanical loathing for the male and hatred for Marie welled up so bitterly that her eyes moistened with tears of self-pity for her dйchйance.
His left hand still cupping and molding and erotically flattening her delicious breast, the masked lover now stealthily descended his right hand and moved it between their bellies, that he might attain the zenith-threshold of her cunt’s quimdomery!
He withdrew slowly and Marie shudderingly rose up with him, longing in her quim reaction to hold fast to all the turgid inches of his male assertion that he bestowed upon her… this motion allowed a space. his hand groped inward and found the gateway which yawned to engorge its sweet cuntself of sturdy manroot his forefinger probed… suavely… expertly…
“Ahh… ohoooh… Georges… how good that is… oh… don’t show me any pity … ram me hard… ram me to death, my lover! Ohhahhh… Georges… mon amour… mon trйsor… quel vigeurt Oh Georges, Georges… I… I… am going to give up… ohahhhhhh… take all of it oh… harder!”