Pierre Tour - Up in Heaven

“Ohhhh-it's hard-so hard-and hot-it throbs. My little pussy-hole is afraid-but really wants it-oh so bad. Pierce me through and through till it comes out in my quimmy. Ahhh- ohh I can feel it going in, honey-ohhhhhh Max — ahhhhhhhh-ahahahahahahahah. God, ohhhh, slowly, so I can feel every bit of it-ahhh, darling — ah-my god-oh, my lover-my bottom-hole is being drawn apart-it will surely split-I want it to-do it to me hard-now, is it all in-?”

“Not yet-oh my darling-is it really nice for my girl-my naked lovely little girl?”

“Ohhhhhhh-ever so nice-ah-ram it to the balls-ahhh-yes, yes, now, now bottom-fuck me hard and fast-ohhh tear me to pieces-hard- love me-ram me and bugger my bottom-hole- hard-ohhhh-Max-Max-ahhhh-so goodit's so very goooood-you'll never-never knowahhhhh-darrrrlingggggg-aaahhhhhh.”

He had meant to guide her gently and slowly into the mystic cult dear to the Greeks, but her writhing twists and vibrant moans, her sweet libidinous phrases had undone him, and now halfway in he sank his nails into her naked buttocks and jutted himself violently onwards. He felt his prick decimate her and widen her tight, hot, churning honey-hole channel. He pierced her to his very balls; he felt the wild maddening contractions of her ass-hole, tense against his root; he felt it demand all his balsam and he began to groan, sobbing in delirious bliss to bottom-fuck her with furious erratic stabs.

Palms pressed now on the floor, head flinging from side to side, hair rumpled, waves falling over her face, eyes wild with ecstasy, mouth twisted and agape, the naked beauty shuddered, quaked, feeling herself the receptacle of Tut. Marcia felt the thrill, as all women with the intrinsic slave complex yearn to feel-yes, even the most proud, the most intelligent.

“Ahhhhh, oh-god-oh god-oh Max-make me come too-frig my little button-ohhh-frig my clitoris-oh, my little rump-my tickler wants to be frigged-oh bottom-fuck and frig your Marcia hard,” she cried hysterically. His left forefinger slipped between her yawning, quaking thighs-found in the yawning cavern of her moist and quivering cunt-the lodestone of her life, the clitoris, and sped it back and forth. Her cries, her grateful prayers of ecstasy bewitched him. His rammings in and out of her quaking honey-hole grew fiercer, till at last, with a mutually echoing cry of delirium, they attained a mutual climax and sank to the floor, rolling to lie beside each other.

Their lips met, his left hand substituting for his prick under her bottom, his forefinger probing into that lovely tight, warm crevice and his other hand stroking breasts and pussy, their tongues flickering, while she with both of her white hands plied his diminished organ and sack with gentle persuasive titillations.

“Now-a last glass of champagne-a last cigarette-and then darling take me to bed with you and use me all night long, just as you like-as a living cushion, a footstool, as whore and slave, a hole to your cock. Wherever you wish to pierce me, take me-” she begged.

They rose, weak with yearning and half-assuagement, drunk with each other but not yet sated- far from sated!

They sat on the loveseat, panting and trembling with pleasure, and they savored the bubbling dry wine, the aroma of good tobacco-piquant stimulants to flesh urgencies.

Then, very gently, he began to kiss her breasts and nuzzle the crests and buds with his palms while she took his penis and tickled and caressed it everywhere with a fingertip, capriciously, yet with a wonderful science-a science the virgin had adapted from her imagination for blissful union with the male she adored. And in another half hour they were again trembling with the trouble- the sweet trouble of ardor anew.

Arm in arm, they walked to the great bedroom where the canopied bed awaited their trysting.

“Oh-” she whispered, turning to him in the shadows, her face shadowed with ecstatic presentiments and anticipation. “Oh, I'm so happy with you-the way you first took me-my all-for now-my body stings with love for you-I'm so wide awake and eager to satisfy you. Oh, are you tired of me-yet-do I presume too much of my lover — my strong, sweet lover?”

He stopped her, turned her, pressed her body against his, his hands molding, kneading her firm buttocks, and his tongue furled with hers while one hand slipped to her pussy and loved it. And hoarsely he said, “Tired? I've got enough to show you how I love you! Now to bed, you greedy wench-and you'll get your due!”

“Oh, darling, you're so masterful-never-never demand less of me, please, in our married life and we'll be real sweethearts to the end,” she murmured, sealing it with a fierce kiss.

He then lifted her in his arms and she let her arms dangle. Her head fell back, her dark brown mane floating, and he bent and sucked her nipples, delighting in their flinty hardness.

“Shall I turn on the light?”

“Oh, no-in the dark now-I want to be all those women-yes, your new Irma, Gilda-Clarisse-yes, and Lois too, and that Gertrude-and that charming prudish, though so sweet, Madeline — yes and Erna-oh, most of all the wicked little Erna, the scamp who gave you such a wonderful long party. Treat me like her, do everything, everything.”

Then he maneuvered her to all fours and possessed her dog-fashion, pinching her nipples, squeezing and cupping her breasts until she attained a frenzied orgasm. After a cigarette, they cuddled together, talking in soft murmurs broken by the sounds of kisses, till one last time they fell on each other, but this time she atop and writhing and grinding her nakedness until the last of his juices were hers, forever, on this magic carpet that was the beginning of their marriage.