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.
Chapter 12
I held Marion trembling and shuddering in my arms long after her first true spasm had passed. Her face was crimson, her nostrils uncontrollably flared and shrank, and the turbulent swelling of those beautiful bubbies showed unequivocally that this was perhaps the most sincere manifestation she had ever shown in the act of love, or so at least I could conjecture after what she had already disclosed concerning her frustrating marital experiences.
When I was certain she was quieted, I withdrew from her and hastened to my water closet to repair the wounds of the fray. I returned with a wet hand towel and knelt beside her and gallantly did her toilet for her, much to her sighing embarrassment. To my great delight, she showed no inclination to move from her sprawled and completely abandoned pose on my couch, and the enhancement of her olive-warm nakedness against the cushions and the dark upholstery of my couch of love was a most pleasant vista for my eyes.
“Whatever has become of me?” she murmured in a low, faint voice, passing a hand in front of her eyes, and
