“Precious possession?”
“Yes – myself, you dolt! You're so embittered by your punishment that you're ignoring my offer – I wish to give myself to you in love!”
Understanding and desire dawned in his eyes as he studied her uplifted face, glancing down her slender but well curved body. “Well, such a gift is to be cherished! I'm afraid you're right about my obsessive bitterness. Forgive me – uh -” He waited, indicating he needed to know her name.
“Iona,” she said softly.
“Iona,” he repeated. “Ignacio and Iona! They fit together very musically!”
“I know.” She rose, leading him behind the spreading shrubbery and settling herself upon the sandy loam, looking up submissively as he lowered himself beside her. Opening the top of her dress she bared her breasts, revealing two plump melons tipped with taut strawberry colored nipples. “Be gentle but take me completely.”
He began making tender love to her, kissing her mouth passionately as his hands played with the full breasts and she writhed responsively to the touch of his hands, moaning as one of them lifted her skirt – under which there was only bare flesh and a thicket of crisp hair surrounding the chubby mound of slitted delight – and creeping up the satiny smoothness of her rounded inner thigh, began caressing the lips of her mound, rubbing and stroking them apart. She gasped as the fingers found her sensitive clitoris.
“Oh, take me!” she whispered urgently.
Awkwardly divesting himself of his breeches, he freed the rigid penis which stood up throbbingly – the foreskin pulled down from the bulbous head and exposing a muscular column still mottled with livid scars – as it pulsed with excitement and readiness. Iona glanced down, seeing the stiffened shaft and her eyes widened in fascination.
“So that's what a man looks like! Why, it's a handsome thing indeed!” She struggled to a sitting position, reaching for the upright penis and closing a gentle fist about its column. “It's so hard, so strong and sure!”
“Suck it!” Ignacio's muttered plea was hardly audible as he twisted around, burying his own face between her thighs, snuggling upwards until his mouth was pressed to her velvety lips and closing over the delicate crevice, a tongue darting forth to insert itself between the moist walls of her gash and flickering in search of the clitoris. “Suck it while I suck you!”
Obediently she lowered her head, relaxing upon her side as she took the bulbous head gently into her mouth, letting it loll upon her tongue as she sensually nursed upon its pulsating hardness – feeling his mouth wetly working upon her organ as he nuzzled and sucked.
For a few moments they lay like that, each giving the other pleasure with their mouths diligently busy upon one another's private parts – until, with an abrupt increase in excitement and a flurry of motion, they surged into a simultaneous orgasm, grunting and sucking frenziedly as his hot juice spurted into her avid mouth and shocks of enjoyment contracted her cunt with each electrifying jab of his tongue.
They pulled apart when the violence of their mutual climax had passed, both panting rapidly and resting in labored silence.
“Th-that was m-marvelous pleasure!” she murmured, lying peacefully upon her back with half-closed eyes. “Feeling you discharge your fluid only made me more lustful, I fear! I hope we may do that bit of delightful ardor often, dear Ignacio!”
“We can,” he replied dreamily. “I'm very fond of that particular pleasure.”
After a moment or two, her hand crept down to his penis, toying with it idly until it gradually erected again, and when it was entirely hardened, he rolled over, positioning himself between her thighs and nursing greedily upon her plump melons while he made tiny stabs at her opened crotch with his aching rammer.
“Oh, put it in – put it in!” she begged, raising her behind to assist him. “Take me with all your strength, my love!”
“It will hurt a trifle.”
“I welcome the pain – if it means having you within my body, beloved Ignacio!”
He thrust the member into her wet and yielding entry in a steady plunging penetration that drew a sharp gasp of pain from her throat that was almost immediately followed by a moaning of contentment as he began moving the long hard instrument in and out to the head with slow powerful strokes that soon had the girl frantic with passion. She clung to him, her fingers scrabbling madly at his shoulders and her legs scissoring his waist, the heels of her bare feet drumming wildly upon his buttocks as he screwed relentlessly. She grunted urgently, squirming and lifting herself to each driving plunge of his prick as it stabbed deeply into her cunt – her legs quivering with the tension building up as orgasm approached.
Then his self-control dissolved and they launched into a madness of motion, both of them making animalistic sounds of gratification while their climaxes dimmed their senses and sent them into a grindingly brief spasm of savage movements which shortly ended in total exhaustion, leaving them sobbing for air as they limply slumped apart.
The familiarity of the act reminded me of the contest between the scheming Greek and Bullpole still in progress within the building, and my curiosity was revived – wondering just which man would indeed win the contest even though I tended to favor the clever Greek thanks to his insidiously careful plans to insure a superhuman endurance. Leaving the exhausted young lovers still lying wearily in the aftermath of their performance, I returned to the room where the contest was taking place.
It was still in progress.
The contestants definitely showed signs of increasing strain now, despite the grim pace that was still being maintained. I had fully expected to find Bullpole lagging considerably behind a Greek immune to exhaustion but, strangely enough, this was not the case. The Greek was undeniably flagging in his thrusts which now obviously lacked the drive and powerful surging effect of his initial motions; while Bullpole pounded along with an equal degree of determined consistency, albeit also indicating far less freshness and strength than his earlier performances had delivered.
Climaxing again within seconds of each other, Bullpole gestured for another girl – rolling free of the deflowered virgin into whom he had just deposited another charge of his juices, and breathing heavily while a tense-eyed brunette was led to his couch. He rolled between her trembling thighs with undisguised disinterest, his immense penis still erect as he pushed it unenthusiastically into her well-greased pit, ignoring her shrill cry of pain and the involuntary flinching of her impaled body as he resumed a ponderous thrusting calculated to bring him to an orgasm as swiftly and directly as possible, his grunting the result of physical effort rather than lustful enjoyment.
At the same time the Greek signaled for another replacement – having spasmed his juices into the motionless redhead beneath his pumping loins – and narrowly eyed his opponent as he rested, waiting for the pale, sad-eyed blonde who was forcibly led to the couch and positioned in readiness. He went between her plump thighs with an air of resignation, listlessly jamming his still-stiffened member into her lubricated hole and thrusting mechanically while she yipped in pain, threshing about uselessly as his truncheon stabbed in and out of her violated organ with a monotonous tempo.
Two more girls later, Bullpole called for a refreshment halt and both men rolled upon their backs with grateful sighs of relief while attendants hurriedly served wine and biscuits.
“I have always believed that we Spaniards were the most virile men on earth,” rumbled Bullpole yawning fulsomely, “but now I must confess that you Greeks are indeed our equal, judging from the endurance which you are exhibiting.”
“How generous, old friend,” panted the Greek. “Frankly, you have just expressed my own conviction on the subject, but in reverse – and it's rather dismaying to be educated to the fact that you are the living legend of virility that your far-flung reputation lauds you to be!”
But how you press that reputation to a thinness in order for it to survive. Without shame, I must admit I feel just a tinge of weariness beginning to flicker in my balls. This is a new sensation for me.”
“I, too, know the vague awareness of feeling spent – also unknown previously to me.”
Bullpole drank a pitcher of crimson wine without stopping until it was emptied, hurling it to the floor and belching loudly as he wiped his wine-stained mouth with the back of one of his huge hands. “Well, I always finish what I begin – no matter how demanding of myself or others. It's a cardinal rule of my very existence.”
“Greek honor requires precisely the same of me.” The Greek drained his pitcher, dropping it to the couch.
