Lena Alvaro gasped as the dwarf began the long and licentious quest of the young Neal Court's wife's anal passage. She had stripped herself of her own clothing and was sitting in a soft-cushioned chair, her lovely tanned legs parted and letting the black softness of her pubic hair and the forbidden slit of her vaginal tract be bared to all to see… and touch… and abuse. But the two men were busy with Mrs. Sharon Court at the moment, and the eroticism of the scene was too much for the older woman to stand. She had arrived at the stage where her heavy breathing indicated she most sorely needed a release of her own building tensions.
She inserted her own finger into her rubbery, elastic cunt opening, pressing continually inward until her whole hand pressed flat against her pubic mound, and then she began to massage her pink-rimmed channel in circular motions, pressing and expanding her spongy pussy to make ready for a second finger. She groaned and writhed, nearly perpendicular in the chair now as she rolled her erect clitoral bud tightly between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand.
She had recuperative powers that were unbelievable, and this black-haired wife had nymphomaniacal qualities of insatiable quantities. Mark smiled as he looked at Lena Alvaro's contorted face and watched her mouth open and close in mounting ecstasy. She never ceased to amaze him.
"My dear Lena," he said, moaning in between the words and never skipping so much as a fraction of a beat as he fucked the lovely virgin mouth of the young blonde housewife below, "My dear, use… use my… collection… of dildoes, if you desire!"
Lena Alvaro's eyes glittered. "Where are they?"
"The cabinet… beside you! Oh, suck my cock, you hot little bitch!" The last words were directed to the ever-increasing mouthings of Sharon, and he was soon lost once more in the heaven of her lips and tongue.
Lena removed her finger and with trembling, wet hand opened the Spanish credenza beside her chair. Yes! There, nestled on the top shelf, was the wooden Phallos Temple from Japan. She removed it and studied the Oriental work of erotic art. Under the slanted roof painted to resemble the female cunt, were seven daikons, painted effigies of the penis. Lena shook as if stung with yellow fever at the salacious sight, and then she reached out and selected one, a smooth object of the finest polished wood, its natural grain running the length of its shaft. It was shaped something like a blunted scimitar, one end fashioned to be a handle, the other the perfect replica of a large, erect cock and head.
No one knows how old the artificial phallus is clay penii have been found in ancient, prehistoric cities, and the Bible refers to gold and silver images with which the women of Jerusalem committed their whoredoms. The Roman God, Priapus, was a symbol of life and was a crude representation of the male member, and upon the wooden rigidity of the God Mutunus Tutunus the virginal bride sacrificed her hymen before joining her groom in the bridal bed.
In India, the God Siva is always shown with an erection, and the poems of Herondas of Cos tell of women visiting the shop of Cerdon who had other uses for leather than making sandals. The Greeks carved penii from horn and wood, and in time the word, "olisboi", was given to such items. In Japan, where they are sold openly in stores, it is called a daikon; in France, it's known as a godemiche; in English, dildo; in Italy, diletto.
But whatever name is given to the carved ornamented, plain or fancy image of the penis, the instrument has given countless women all over the earth and all though the centuries happiness.
It gave Lena Alvaro happiness.
She whimpered, squirmed, gasped. Faster and faster her hand pumped the daikon with frothing madness deep, deep in her hungry cunt. She screamed and convulsed, her whole belly a sheath to the wooden piston. She stared down at the way her pubic hair moved and her pink vulva grasped at the round sword. The pleasure zones of her female flesh were alive and throbbing, and her hips beat the chair cushion as they worked steadily, insatiably.
Meanwhile, the hunched-back dwarf held himself back from thrusting his huge penis into the tight ring of the blonde lovely's tight little anus. He purposely tortured himself for the moment when he would bury his throbbing cock far up between her soft white moons as they swayed gently and defeated before him. She was repulsed by him and he wanted to break her more than anything else in the world, just as he had broken other women. He wanted to feel her squirm and then cry out her need for him, and that would be the ultimate conquest; a proud, beautiful blonde bitch who was horrified by his deformities suddenly turning into an animal and loosing all control of herself, forgetting where she was, who she was, wanting, consciously his overgrown, grotesque cock to fuck her until she couldn't move. The thought raced through his loins like an electric shock.
For a few torturing moments he ground his thick cock around in the narrow white crevice of her buttocks, pressing the soft, quivering cheeks of flesh around it, enclosing his member like a glove upon a finger. Then he leaned forward and once more planted wet, warm kisses with his twisted lips along the standing ridges of her spine, feeling her tense and shiver and groan slightly around the pumping cock in her mouth.
Then Wafto moved his loins up close behind her and placed his thumbs on either side of the resilient cheeks and pressed out gently. With the natural cunning of a predator, the dwarf knew that she had passed the first stage of physical submission by violence and now the conquest of her mind and spirit must be done by tenderness. Indeed, his unexpected change from pain and brutality to caressing and tenderness caught her off guard in spite of her resistance. Sharon had geared her shocked, nearly benumbed mind to the fighting of the alien, repulsive invasion; but she was not prepared for pleasure. She was not prepared for the rising desire his touch would bring.
Her buttocks clenched together against the pressure he was exerting with his thumbs, and he eased off slightly, still keeping up a constant easy tension until the straining muscles of her inner thighs slowly tired and relaxed, bit by bit. His triumphantly grinning face was crouched on the same level with the thin pink folds of her vagina and as he watched, eyes gleaming, as the soft, hairlined lips slowly parted before the imperceptible outward pull of his hands. He saw the slight moisture forming and glistening on the soft insides of her thighs, and with the easing of shock and the fatigue of resistance the cheeks of her buttocks spread wider and wider apart.
The dwarf servant moved his face forward, careful not to shake the sudden trust building in the defenseless woman kneeling before him. His face was a scant inch from the soft blonde pubic hair covering the tender resilient flanges of her vagina, and the animal female odor was one of the sweetest perfume that drifted enticingly out of her cavern, better than even it had been the previous night. He swallowed deeply as her secret passage flowered open to his gaze and the soft inner flesh came into tantalizing view. It was coral and smooth and wet…
He blew softly into her…
Sharon jerked forward from the unexpected warm, feather-like touch of air on her cunt, and Mark Marlowe thrust upward again, impaling her mouth deeper on his fleshy shaft until she felt as if it would choke her to death. Her concentration on his penis was short-lived as she felt the dwarf push his wet lips teasingly against the wetness of her open vaginal slit. She squirmed slightly and he tightened his hands on her buttocks so that she couldn't move away, and then with one quick rush of his snake-like tongue, he thrust forward between her warm, fleshy vaginal folds.