Marcus van Heller - The House of Borgia, book1

“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. 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.