Pierre Tour - Up in Heaven

Then, he knelt; the overpowering urge to worship at her shrine commanded it. Had she not knelt to him?

And she had purity-the gift supreme-to bring him, yet she knelt to him so he could master her.

His hands stroked the belly, the life-giving goblet where flowered the seed essence of the male, thence to the silk softness of the lower abdomen, and then his fingers knew the silk growth of her down, of her virgin's pudescence, suave and soft and gentle. Thence to the evasion of the loins, their hollowing-and there found the apex, there the gate, there the fount of her sweet quim-virginity-and his With his palms, he pressed against soft rounded knees, lovely bare knees that quivered with virginal modesty. Never had Marcia shown herself thus to a man and it was the proof of her love that she thus yielded so magnificently.

Thence he felt her round, sweet, firm young calves and his palms traveled up them to reach the fronts of her lower thigh and then his mouth sought that which his body yearned for.

The silken down, thick and sweetly fragrant, of her virgin cunt. Her head fell back, one hand rising to her heaving bosom, her legs slightly parted for him, her eyes closed. She too knew the breathless wonder of surrender in the void of darkness that was soon to be brilliantly illuminated with the glow of passion. His lips brushed the tendrils, soft curly ringlets, glossy and crisp at the adorable center like fresh young lettuce, which furnished intangible proof that she was truly a virgin-if proof be needed.

His tongue crept forth to flicker lightly at the fullest center; then, as if tantalizing her, to depart to the outer fringes of that thicketed tangle, and then again into the very heart of her quim-down, beneath and beyond it, to titillate the petals of her virgin cunt-hole, soft, full velvet petal waiting to be wakened and disposed of at his pleasure.

Deep, deep, deep into the celestial niche his tongue plied; then she delicately retreated. A sigh as faint as the zephyr emanated from her lips.

He rose, pulsating with furious ardor, took her in his arms, and his mouth, slowly prolonging the moment of meeting, fused with hers as her naked velvety rounded arms linked round his shoulder. He delighted in her tallness that her body might press him from hip to thigh and sweet belly and breast and meet him readily in complete unison.

His organ prodded her naked belly, knew the silken torment of her cunt and she moaned so softly, “Yes, yes, now, oh-take me quickly-here — I'm burning for you. Take me-Max, my lover — here, do not wait-take your Marcia, she wants you so terribly-and here-not on the bed-here — darling.”

Her hands stroked his back and side with insistent adulation.

He gathered her up in his arms and bore her to the lush low divan, richly upholstered and embroidered, soft as eiderdown, and laid her on it as on an altar.

Then he knelt upon it beside her, and his hand passed swiftly over her bare thighs, her belly and bosom, till at last a finger delicately probed in her slit to learn, yes-blissful secret-her love-hole was ready, the juices distilled by Venus as lubrication to his entry had been provided.

“Oh-Max-Max-quickly-oh hurry my lover,” she breathed throatily, arching up beautiful dimpled ivory knees, yawning the gateway to her pussy's paradise.

Gently his hands placed her legs as he desired. Her head fell back, her hands clenched her panting ripe bosom gourds that throbbed with smouldering ardors.

Bending his head down, kissing that virgin cunt, he tasted its perfume while his lips were seeking beneath the curly ringlets the petulant soft velvet, moist and palpitating, of her maiden pussy-haven.

A low gasp of ecstasy was rent from her and he knew her wanton joy. Gently he mounted, laying himself blade foremost upon that altar of flesh and felicity, upon the virgin.

Now, her hands were drawing his head down that her lips might fiercely bite and sting him with exultant kisses. Her legs yawning and then her knees arched and enfolded him, clasping hard as he found himself upon her ready for the encounter, his penis thrust at the lovely foliage of her slit, his mouth crushing and being crushed in a wild exultance of passion.

Then he pressed through the furry garden to the lips of her quim. They parted for him, readily; she uttered a soft choking plaint and his organ descended into the chasm of her virginity onward. Oh what mad delight was that warm and narrow velvet-lined channel whose course finitely set his will and pleasure.

Deep, until half his penis was buried, she disengaged her mouth to murmur, “Lover, forgive your girl-”

“Why? O my sweet Marcia, why?”

“I–I-didn't want you to have the bother of a maidenhead. Oh Max-believe me, I'm virgin, yes, but the doctor saw to it you'd not have need to check your pleasure-take me-hard-I'm all yours, all prepared. Use me-I'm your flesh, your desire now. I want it-all, all you gave the others, only more. Oh-I'm dying for you Max-Max- fuck your virgin wife, your naked Marcia-your wanton virgin. Oh, she wants to be a bitch tonight — till you die of joy with her. Take me, fuck meoh don't spare me, give me more than you ever gave them, darling.”

With a cry of ecstasy, he thrust to his hilt and bladed her pulsating, tightly grooved cunt-hole to his balls, and her legs cast themselves violently around him, like a tigress upon him-her prey- and her arms locked-her mouth pinning-with flaming kisses and tongue-thrustings to hold and capture him tunelessly.

He felt her sink down into the soft divan, felt his body in complete fusion with her, knew the maddening sting of naked, throbbing woman-flesh merging now with his own, incapable of distinguishing one from the other.

He lay, imbedded, with his full blade sheathed in her tight warm nipping scabbard and never was a cock more graciously housed.

Their tongues lashed like whips, engendering suffering too great to be endured by one-both must share it.

Then, by sharing, the torment became the greater ecstasy. How agile, nimble, firm, and resilient were her naked thighs, which yawned for him to lie between. The firm pressure, heady and intoxicating, of her round velvety naked calves locked his. How like strong vines of the dark mystic jungle were her bare firm arms, pinioning him to crush down those round hillocks of her breasts, which heaved ardently beneath him, their hardened buds scraping his skin with the intimations of her desire.

Their mouths were sealed, their tongues rimmed and furled incessantly, gliding along teeth and gums and lips. He felt her vaginal sheath contract fiercely, he knew the moment was at hand, and with slow, deliberate calculation that was physical, not cerebral, he drew back from her and she crept up on him, arching up as if reluctant to disperse that mighty scimitar from her throbbing cunt.

Then, with the knowledge that he had reached the rim of her cunt-chasm, he suspended himself, his body shuddered, and with a mad swift lunge, impaled her to the root.

“Ahhh-ohh-Max-ohhh-Max-it's so heavenly-ohhh-fuck your Marcia-hard-take her like a naked slave-your bitch-have her-oh I die of my joy. Crush me, my liege lord-my sovereign-ohhh bruise me trample me-it yearns to be yours in subjugation-now-ohhh-pierce me with your lust, my lord-ahhhhh!” she cried.

Her fingers worked feverishly, digging, prodding, prying, and pinching his armpits, neck, and cheeks, his back and sides, near his anus. His calves were rasped by the fierce excitement of her writhing calves and naked female flesh burned him as for the first maddening glorious time.

For a lingering moment, tasting her pussy's pulsations, he remained to his balls inside her vaginal cavern; then slowly drew back, scraping the side of the delicate tissued sheath. She moaned and flinched, arching up her writhing warm ivory belly, to beg him to return. Then supporting himself on his elbows and arching up from her, he began to frig-titillate and rasp-scrape the very surfaces of her outer cunt petals.