seemed to be much easier and she was actually recapturing some of the earlier sensation which had flattened in her as soon as the pain came. Papa had been right after all. It would only hurt for a while. In fact, now, as it became easier with every thrust he made and she began to wriggle her loins and thighs against him, it seemed impossible that a few minutes before she'd been ready to die from anguish.
“It's all right, papa,” she whispered. “It — it doesn't hurt so much any more.”
Her words spurred Cardinal Roderigo on as if she had suddenly bitten the blunt end of his rod. There was a sweetness, a submission about the way she told him that made him feel strangely sadistic.
He pulled her thighs up at an even more acute angle with her belly and pushed home the last length of pulsating flesh. Lucrezia gasped, but a gasp which was three parts pleasure, one part shock.
The Cardinal's loins were aflame. His penis was heavy and prickling inside her. It felt ready to burst along its whole length. His belly was heaving in and out enough to give him a heart attack, his hands rifled her bottom, pinching it, grabbing it in paroxysms, digging at the anus which squirmed on his fingertips.
“Oh, Lucrezia! My darling!” he moaned.
“Papa, papa,” she answered tenderly through her regrowing passion.
His lips moved, but no sounds came out except his choking breath. It was coming. He rammed smack into her, burying his staff so deep that his hairy surrounds cracked against her vaginal lips with force and made her squeal. In his belly there was a churning, a churning that was pure essence of sensation. Everything paled, he felt dizzy. The heat and solid pricking fury of the sensation was everything, but for dazed impressions of this beautiful body, this beautiful daughter lying under him, giving him this ecstasy from her lovely passionate flesh.
In the depths of his chest a long-drawn, choking gasp slowly followed the course of the long-drawn, loin- convulsing drawing of his fluid. He called her name through his moaning. He leaned up from her except for his loins. He gripped her waist just above the hips and squeezed it with more and more force as the fluid rushed inside him, fought its way to his penis and with a last rush shattered out and up into her writhing channel, inundating it as he jerked uncontrollably, inundating it until it rolled slowly out of her vagina between her wide-flung legs in the wake of his collapsed penis and he let go of her waist and slipped exhaustedly down onto the warmth of her flesh. Red marks were left on the tender white flesh where his hands had gripped.
Lucrezia had been aware, through her own passion, of the groaning and writhing around her as if a thousand demons were suddenly raping her body from all sides. She felt the hot jets of sperm spurt inside her, with a twinge of pleasure. And then, a few seconds later, she felt fresh twinges of disappointment when her father sank limply onto her and the solidity was withdrawn from her vagina leaving a sudden cool rush of air and the shadow of solidity in its place.
Her vagina was hot and a piquant burning remained. She was sore, but not so sore that she wouldn't have invited further entry to assuage her desire. She sighed and tensed her thighs against the Cardinal's hips.
He seemed to come out of the heavily breathing state of coma he'd fallen into and he stroked her thighs without moving from his position astride her.
“You learn very fast, daughter,” he said. “I'm exhausted as a galley slave.”
In answer she wound her legs around his and rubbed her cheek against his chin.
He lay on her, inwardly chuckling now, knowing her unquenched desire. It was warm and highly pleasant having her provocative body as a cushion. The wound which had just allowed his sperm to flow from him would soon be cured and then he would be ready for fresh action.
Lucrezia unwound her tightly clamping legs after a few minutes and slithered them in underneath his. He felt her soft little belly squirm against the rotundity of his and then the live pressure of her well-covered hips.
“Did I not hurt you, my sweet?”
“Yes, papa — but it changed halfway and I began to feel that I wanted to die in such happiness.”
And she has yet to die in it, he thought, yet to feel the soporific spread of satisfaction from her father's punishing penetration.
He rolled off her, at last. His prick, hot and tender, had half-risen again. He glanced down at it below the bulge of his belly and then he took Lucrezia's hand and placed it on the hot length of flesh.
Lucrezia looked down at the organ which had began to expand in her hand. She held it gently as if it were a hand, wondering at its great heat.
“Caress it, my love-particularly the knob,” the Cardinal said, pressing his thighs one against the other.
His daughter obeyed, drawing her fingers gently, as if afraid, over the smooth, white skin from its hairy base to the fiery red knob at its extremity.
Cardinal Roderigo felt an explosion from him as if passion had broken out from a small cell, shattering the walls, and was now pervading the corridors, the antechambers of his entire body. He flexed his hips against the side of her thigh. He crossed one ankle behind the other, turning his body into an arch with the foremost point his penis. His heart began to gather speed in its pounding once again.
Lucrezia gained courage-or curiosity as the Cardinal became more and more impassioned. She allowed her fingers to slip away from the rigid, fleshy stem to fondle the hairy balls below. They, too, were hot and hairily smooth and she gathered them in her hand, weighing them gently in her palm, wondering at the strange makeup of man. The very feel of his genitals excited her, too, making her wet and exposed-feeling between her legs so that she closed her thighs and grazed them together achingly.
The Cardinal began to undulate his legs, breathing noisily through his hairy nostrils. He leaned his head over onto her, laying it against her breasts, brushing his smooth cheek from one to the other, sucking a nipple, descending the hill into the valley, climbing the opposite hill and kissing that other nipple which shot out like a flag on a mountain top.
Lucrezia felt overcome with a desire to kiss his whole body in return. She swayed over and lay her head on his chest as he relaxed backwards before her gentle pressure. She kissed his hairy chest, loving his breasts with her mouth. He placed his hand on her soft head and pushed her gently downwards. She let herself be pushed, let her head move down him, her lips moistly blazing a trail down his hairy flesh as they passed.
Her hand still held his prick which reached forth for the ceiling, trying to grow like Jack's beanstalk. As her lips crossed his lower belly, his muscles tautened, his prick became a shrieking urge. He wanted to bury it in her-in that soft, learning mouth which was moving toward it. He caught her head by the hair, roughly, so that she gasped and pushed her face down the last few inches which separated it from his prick.
She got the idea immediately and he felt her lips, tantalizingly light and feathery, running up the stem of flesh. He cringed within himself, gritting his teeth.
He held his breath for what seemed an asphyxiating length of time and then he let it out in a long, gasping sigh as the mouth closed softly, like a vagina, over his radiant knob.
From what seemed a great height above him on the bed, he could hear her lips gently sucking. There seemed to be no correspondence between the noise which inflamed his ears and the actual pulling of her lips on his prick which sent chill after chill coursing through his body.
He had released her head as the mouth clamped over his penis, but now, wanting to plunge his rod farther into the tightness of sensation, he reached down again and forced her blonde head down against the rearing pikestaff. He felt his solid heat shoot forward, grazing her teeth. She gave a choking, muffled cry. He undulated his hips with the fury of a whirlpool and heaved them up at her face. He looked down at her slim, flushed face and the distended lips pulling on his prick which had been half swallowed in her mouth. The sight added to the sensation and his eyes narrowed, his lips broke apart, his hand tightened on her soft, fine hair.
In her mouth, his prick seemed to be thickening and thickening every second. His hand moved hard and violently over her head, pulling on those golden plaits, pressing the head with convulsive fingers. He wanted to bury his prick in her throat-but somehow the mouth and throat were not enough; the sensation was not consistent along the length of his rod.
He watched her sucking, her cheeks hollowing, her eyes closing and opening in her passion. Her slim, sleek back, white and without a blemish was presented to him, blooming abruptly into the luxury of her lips and soft, full buttocks that invited caresses, invited the pressure of another body.
He watched her buttocks. They slithered whitely one against the other, an outward sign of her inner excitement. They were smooth, lovely convexes of flesh. He longed to reach out and touch them but he couldn't reach. He longed to press his loins against them, to feel their convexity in all its voluptuousness crushed against the elastic roundness of his own belly and loins.
He pulled her head sharply from his loins, j Her mouth came off his raging prick with a I sharp sucking noise.
