She looked up at him with her deep, blue eyes half open. His penis was tingling, the feel of her mouth still around it needing to be replaced.
He slithered down behind her, lying along her back, and put his arms round her to fondle her breasts with their erect nipples. The coolness of her buttocks exaggerated the heat of his penis against them. He pressed his prick against the soft mounds of flesh, biting his lips.
With his hand he reached down and explored her thighs from behind, pushing his fingers between them until he found the long portals of ultra-smooth moisture. He began to caress her vagina once again, kneading the hard, erect clitoris.
Immediately she began to wriggle in the most abandoned way and to moan in a manner which made him impatient to plunge his prick hard in and give her something to moan about.
His prick was down there between her legs, brushing against his searching fingers. He needed only to jerk forward and it would be once again between those milky thighs, breaking in with a strong, skin-rending pressure which would set her atrembling.
He eased her over onto her face. She went just wherever his hands guided. She seemed quite lost to anything but his touch.
Quivering with anticipation he lowered himself onto the provocative pertness of her buttocks, feeling them warm, soft and giving under his loins. His penis waved between her thighs which she had opened. Now he couldn't wait. Every moment was torment.
Swaying back onto his knees, he pulled her up onto her knees in front of him. Her bottom reared up at him, her face was pressed into the bed within the framework of her arms.
There, like a great cleft moon, her behind was juicily presented to him. Her thighs were spread, the lines between her knees forming the base of a triangle, the point at her thigh junction where he could see the red, wet opening of her cunt, its apex. She was kneeling before him like a sacrificial offering. She was his to do with as he wished.
He placed himself behind her. He eased her lips open with his thumbs and ranged his prick against the opening. Then with an all-pervading tremor of sublime pleasure he surged into her.
Lucrezia, her lips working, her mind confused with desire, knelt before the Cardinal, with her bottom right up in the air under his eyes. She felt his thumbs against the lips of her vagina and she squirmed against them, contracting her channel in concentrated passion. She moaned again-and the moan became a cry as, with the force and relentlessness of a battering ram, his great rod which had recently been filling her mouth to the choking point, tore into her channel and raced up with great momentum into the depths of her belly. This time it was easier and less painful, but these thoughts didn't occur to her at the time. She was aware only of the slight pain, the nakedness of her bottom, her whole body and her desire to submit, to be used, raped, hurt even and to enjoy, to wallow in her enjoyment which transcended any other type of enjoyment she'd ever experienced.
She heard her father grunting behind the weight of his hips which pressed at her so hard that they edged her forward on the bed and made her push with her hands to keep her position.
His prick, which seemed enormous — she could still not believe that it could really disappear inside her — bludgeoned in and drew back and then thrust right up again.
On her waist his hands were cruel in the way they gripped her with such force. She felt his knees edging her knees apart. He seemed to want to embed himself deeper and deeper in her. It made the whole of her loins itch and flame. She was aware of the contraction and expansion inside her, the sensation that a regular wave of movement was getting faster and faster, deeper and deeper.
The Cardinal gritted his teeth as the tight sheath of flesh slipped back along his complementary dagger. Her channel was tight around his length, but his knob seemed to want to go farther, to be squeezed so tight that it hurt him.
He thrust in and out, up and up with a regular, strong flow from his hips. His stomach was fluttering, his thighs twitching. At the extremity of his inward stroke he gave an extra flick, feeling her buttocks give and spread under the weight of his loins, hearing her gasps and gulps. Every few strokes he would thrust his own hot organ right in and leave it there, tightly held in her body while he squirmed his hips against her cool buttocks, reveling in the brushing contact of their separate flesh.
He moved his hands from her waist, which, it seemed, he could almost span, tracing them over her back, the lean, firm flesh. He pressed her shoulders into the bed as he drove his prick into her passage. He saw her shoulders shake and quiver, her bottom sway and rotate against him.
His prick felt like a trail of gunpowder rushing towards its annihilation in explosion. He ran his hands under her belly clasping her to him as he spread her thighs still wider with his knees. He clasped the flesh of her belly in small, elastic handfuls. He lowered his own belly onto her bottom, holding her in a close abdominal embrace as he smashed his loins against her, splitting her vagina with his evergrowing intrusion.
Subject under him, a willing slave, Lucrezia felt his prick filling her whole body. It seemed to surge right in up to her breasts with every thrust. And every thrust brought an involuntary explosion of breath from between her lips. Her hot face twisted in torment against the bed. Her hips waved and squirmed beyond her control. It felt as if his organ was as big as her entire belly and her belly was smarting and tingling and leaping with flame. In the middle of this overall sensation was a central channel of piercing stimulation where he surged into her channel, filling and spreading it as it tried to clasp him firmly.
Lucrezia heard her own groans as if they came from some other throat. She felt as if she were being dredged, all her entrails being dragged down into that channel. With a confusion of wild words in her head, many of them unspoken exhortations to him to fuck her to the last, to destroy her with his prick, she felt a great warmth spreading inside. It was a feeling she hadn't had before, an inexorable advance of nothing which shook her body and made her feel that the end of her life was near. She tried to say something to her father, to ask him! something, but when she opened her mouth only] muffled exclamations came out.
And the inexorable sensation went on and on and her hips waved as if they had their own delirium and her belly was afire with a burning-like snow. Snow rushing in an avalanche which was lovely and terrible, unbearable and all-desirable, unending yet moving quickly to an end. She groaned and cried out in loud, grating cries. Her whole body was moving downwards to pass out between her legs. She gasped and weaved her hips and pressed back against her father's belly, wanting his prick, loving him, loving the sensation, frightened of it- and now it was there, everywhere, a great bubble which was bursting, bursting and… “Oh, my God! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooooh!” A great flowing through, an escape and a slow ebbing, ebbing slowly, slowly, back to normal which was not normal because it left a wash and a new feeling.
Cardinal Roderigo was inflamed with the sight and sound of Lucrezia's culmination. Her tortured face, pressing into the bed, remained in his mind even when it had calmed and the movement of her lips was nothing more than a muted recognition of the force of his continued penetration.
He felt a great outreaching for her, as if it were not enough to be screwing her here on the bed with all his power, as if he needed to destroy her to ensure a truly positive action.
His penis, hard and with the skin drawn back so tightly that it was often painful, pistoned into her, disappearing up to the very hairs of his belly which became wet and stringy from her liquid outpourings. His penis felt harder and more solid as the moments rushed dizzily past and his mouth opened and closed with furious wheezings. When he gripped her he crushed her tender flesh sadistically, reflecting the force of his grip with a renewed vigor of his thrust. With every forward motion which tightened his buttocks into hard, male globes he crashed against her behind pushing her forward, pulling a little cry from her. Within him he felt the curling up of the spring which would suddenly snap straight again at the point where it could curl no more. He wanted to push farther and farther into her body to some impossible point. Sensation gripped every hard, fleshy centimeter of his penis. His grip on her waist grew. He fixed his gaze on the little ring of her anus which he noticed now as she pushed her buttocks back at him. It was small and crinkly. He would have to have it someday soon. He watched it, the focal point of those revolving buttocks. He concentrated the whole force of his attention on its hairless contraction. The spring was winding up and up and up. He gritted his teeth. His eyes glazed over the little button. He moved his finger to it, prodded it, felt the cringing reaction. The spring was winding to breaking point. He felt he couldn't stand any more. He couldn't get any farther into her. It must come to an end now. He heard the murmurs of her breath. The anus was like an eye socket looking at him. He gasped, thrust forward in a long, hard stroke and then convulsed in a series of quick tremoring jerks as he spattered his fountain of sperm into the moist sheath which had held him so well.
