“I'll make her scream for mercy,” he boasted.

“Mind she doesn't make you scream for mercy,” the Cardinal muttered more to himself than to his son.

“Off you go now,” he urged. “I have some work to do.”

He watched them run off in the direction of the pool, Lucrezia leading, her buttocks straining against the shift as she moved, laughing over her shoulder at Cesare, who followed, smiling, superior in the knowledge that he could overtake her as he wished.

The Cardinal waited for several minutes before he followed them slowly through the grounds, stepping quietly toward the pool.

The pool was surrounded by a covered walk with a single entrance at one end. The Cardinal pushed his way gently through the trees and bushes bolstering the trelliswork. He crouched and peered through the rose-twined woodwork to where the clear, blue pool glittered in the sunlight.

Cesare was immersed in the pool, keeping to its edge, obviously still embarrassed at his sister's presence. She, however, was standing on the marble surround brazenly drawing her shift over her head.

Cardinal Roderigo's eyes became transfixed. She threw the shift down on a wooden seat and stretched, looking down invitingly at Cesare. The curves of her body were generous, her waist tight and slim, breasts opening out like an enormous flower above, hips vying with breasts for roundness and maturity below. The sun, which turned her golden hair almost silver, made her pink flesh shine with an almost luminous whiteness. The large red nipples stood out astonishingly dark against the white background and the down at the solid triangle between her thighs was another quick flash of silver.

If I had been more thoughtful, Cardinal Roderigo told himself, I would have got rid of her nanny and her maids and enjoyed the sight of her womanly body often before.

Lucrezia was walking along the edge of the pool away from Cesare, staring up into the sun, opening her arms to it like a lover. Her buttocks bulged under the slimness of her waist, stretching one against the other as she moved, her legs tautened, hard and slim and then relaxed as each swept forward with her step.

Cardinal Roderigo was hot all over, and sweating between his thighs. His eyes gloated over the fullness of her body, the movement in it as she moved, little eddies of shadow, ripples of half-'formed muscle. He watched her parading for Cesare's benefit as if she were an experienced harlot and he was amazed. The little bitch really needed it good and hard and deep enough to make her tremble from her toes to her golden plaits.

Cesare, too, watched her every movement. His own nakedness had suddenly made him aware of hers-as a woman, not as his sister. He clung to the edge of the pool whose water was so clear that if he moved out into the middle she'd be able to see him just as he could now see her.

Lucrezia turned and walked back toward Cesare.

“Isn't it lovely not to have any clothes on?” she called out. “I feel like a nymph.”

“Hurry up and come in,” Cesare answered gruffly. “The water's warm.”

“Why do you sound so cross?” she pouted. And with a quick movement she swept her little foot down into the water beside him and shot a spout of water into his eyes. Cesare gasped, released his hold on the side and plunged out into the center of the pool. The shock of the attack robbed him of his embarrassment. “I'll get you for that,” he called, laughing. You'll get her anyway, the Cardinal chuckled to himself. He was envying his son the view he must have had of Lucrezia's soft, little vagina as she stretched her foot down to splash him. “I don't care. I'm not afraid of you,” she cried, laughing too. And with that she gave a neat little dive down into the pool, out of sight of both father and son.

Leaning forward, the better to see, Cardinal Roderigo heard his son shout and saw him begin to flail his arms as he disappeared under the water. In another second Lucrezia shot to the surface and broke into peals of laughter at her skill in ducking her brother from underneath.

Cesare came to the surface, furious now at the impudence of the trick. He began to race toward his retreating sister.

“I'm going to spank you as father said,” he cried. “And then I may kill you as well.”

Shrieking insults, Lucrezia turned her back on him and swam with all her strength to the edge of the pool. She reached up, gripped the edge and hauled herself out, lying along the marble and wriggling herself out of the water. Cardinal Roderigo could feel the painful pressure of his rigid penis against his clothes as he devoured the back view of her wriggling escape. Her buttocks stretched out, her thighs pushed and flailed in the air. He could see the slim walls of flesh between her legs. She would be the most beautiful, the most voluptuous woman in Italy in a very short time.

Cesare reached the pool's edge and grabbed at one of his sister's feet, but all he succeeded in doing was getting a hearty kick in the shoulder as she swung clear, climbed to her feet and began to run.

Her father's eyes followed lustfully. Her buttocks swayed like helpless jellies as she fled; her breasts sprang up and flopped back within their small range of movement. She laughed as she ran and glanced over her shoulder to where Cesare had quickly pulled himself up to the marble surround and was getting to his feet. Her eyes took in the water-cooled limpness of his organ, the dark hair around it. She wondered fleetingly what it was like to touch that thing which performed the functions of which she'd read vague descriptions in some of the best literature of the times. Then Cesare was on his feet and running dangerously fast after her and she turned her head frontwards again, racing breathlessly around the pool's perimeter.

Cardinal Roderigo drew back a little as her rippling, trembling figure turned the end of the bath and came towards him. He looked back at his son and was proud of him. Slim, strong body. He could have been eighteen or nineteen and his penis was a good specimen, a worthy initiator for Lucrezia,

Cesare was overhauling his sister with ease. She glanced back again and began to laugh with that breathless hysteria of someone in desperation.

She was practically opposite the point where her father was hidden in the mass of foliage when Cesare caught her. She turned away from the pool onto the soft bank of grass next to the inside trelliswork, trying to dodge, to double back. But it was too late, Cesare's muscular young arms had fastened, one around her neck, the other across her breasts, and all she could do was kick and struggle and laugh and pant helplessly.

The battle between their fine young bodies, his lean, muscular, hers ripe, voluptuous, took place about six feet from the unseen Cardinal, who moved forward again, so unlikely were they to see him in the concentration of their struggle.

“Now I shall spank you,” Cesare shouted, flinging her down on the grass, falling with her.

“Oh Cesare, how rude and brutish,” his sister laughed.

Cardinal Roderigo looked down at her close, fleshful body so near to him and felt a fierce gripping in his rod, so that he longed to burst through the flimsy trellis and the roses and sink himself into the soothing well of relief she promised. He watched their struggle on the ground. Cesare had forced her down on her belly and she had caught one arm and held it firmly gripped under her breasts. He had twined one leg around hers while he raised the other hand and gave her the first sharp-sounding slap across her rearing buttocks.

The Cardinal watched the hand descend, saw her squirm and cry out, half laughing, half startled, saw the pink mark on the white mounds as the hand rose again.

Lucrezia struggled again, desperately, and managed to throw Cesare's leg off her. The Cardinal grinned avidly as he saw that his son's penis had stiffened out, was cleaving the air alongside his daughter's buttock.

Cesare was flushed; he looked a little confused. He noticed, too, that Lucrezia was trembling.

With a sharp movement of his strong arms, Cesare gripped her shoulders, holding her flat on the ground, only her legs kicking wildly in the air. Again he lifted his hand and it lashed down across her behind, and again. His erection had expanded to the limit of its capacity as he half lay, half knelt beside his sister and administered punishment to her darkly blushing bottom.

Watching closely the Cardinal saw Lucrezia's mouth open, was aware that she was pressing her body into the grass as she smarted under her spanking.

“Oh, Cesare!” she gasped out at last.

Her brother eased up, wondering at last if perhaps he hadn't been too harsh. Lucrezia stayed still, her shoulders trembling, her face against the fresh grass.

Cesare lay down alongside her, concerned, and tried to turn her over.

“I didn't hurt you really, did I?” he asked.

Lucrezia turned over at this, edging half under him. She smiled.

“You didn't hurt me at all,” she said.

Вы читаете The House of Borgia, book1
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