As well might have Bella appealed to the wind. A rapid succession of thrusts, a few pauses at intervals, more efforts, and Bella was impaled.
“Ah,” exclaimed the ravisher, turning in triumph to his coadjutor, while his eyes sparkled and his lewd mouth watered with the pleasure he was having. “Ah, this is luscious, indeed; how tight she is, and yet she has it all. I am up here to my balls.”
Mr Verbouc took a careful survey. Ambrose was right. Nothing but his two huge balls remained visible of his genitals, and they were pressing close up between Bella’s legs.
Meanwhile Bella felt the heat of the invader in her belly. She was sensible of the skinning and uncovering of the huge head within her, and instantly her lewdest emotions overtaking her, with a faint cry, she spent profusely.
Mr Verbouc was delighted.
“Push! Push!” said he, “she likes it now, give it her all push!”
Ambrose needed no such incentive, seizing Bella round the hips, he buried himself in her at each bound. The pleasure rose upon him fast; he drew back, until he withdrew his smoking penis, all except the nut, and then lunging forward, he emitted a low groan, and squirted a perfect deluge of hot fluid into Bella’s delicate body.
The girl felt the warm and trickling stuff shooting violently up her, and once more gave down her tribute. The great pushes which now came slopping into her vitals from the powerful stores of Father Ambrose, whose singular gift in this particular I have before explained, caused Bella the liveliest sensations, and she experienced the keenest pleasure during his discharge.
Scarcely had Ambrose withdrawn, than Mr Verbouc took possession of his niece, and commenced a slow and delicious enjoyment of her most secret charms. After an interval of fully twenty minutes, during which time the salacious Uncle revelled in pleasure to his heart’s content, he completed his gratification in a copious discharge, which Bella received with throbs of delight, such as no other than a thoroughly prurient mind could relish.
“I wonder,” said Mr Verbouc, after he had regained breath and refreshed himself with a large draught of rich wine. “I wonder how it is this dear child inspires me with such overwhelming rapture. In her arms I forget myself and all the world. The present intoxication of the moment carries me with it, and I enjoy I know not what of ecstasy.”
The observation, or reflection, call it what you will, of the Uncle, was partly addressed to the good Father, and, no doubt, was partially the result of interior workings of the spirits which involuntarily rose to the surface and formed themselves into words.
“I could tell you I think,” said Ambrose sententiously, “only perhaps, you would not follow my reasoning.”
“Explain, by all means,” replied Mr Verbouc. “I am all attention, and I should of all things like to hear your reason.”
“My reason, or rather, I should say, my reasons,” observed Father Ambrose, “are manifest when you are in possession of my hypothesis.”
Then, taking a pinch of snuff, a habit which the good man usually indulged before delivering himself of any weighty reflections, he continued:
“Sensual pleasure must always be proportional to the adaptability of the circumstances which are intended to produce it. And this is paradoxical, because the more we advance in sensuality, and the more voluptuous our tastes grow, the greater becomes the necessity that these circumstances should be themselves at variance. Do not misunderstand me; I will try to render myself more clear. Why does a man commit a rape when he is surrounded by women willing to afford him the use of their bodies? Simply because he is not content to be in accord with the opposite party to his enjoyment, and it is her very unwillingness which constitutes his pleasure. No doubt there are instances in which a man of brutal mind, and seeking only his own sensual relief, where it is not possible to find a willing object to his gratification, forces a woman, or a child, to his will, with no other object than his immediate relief of those instincts which madden him, but search the record of such crimes, and you will find that by far the greater are the result of deliberate design, planned and executed in the face of obvious and even lawful means of gratification.
The opposition to his proposed enjoyment serves to whet his lewd appetite, and the introduction of the feature of crime and violence add a zest to the matter which obtains a firm hold upon his mind. It is wrong, it is disallowed, therefore it is worth seeking, it becomes delicious. Again, what is the reason that a man of vigorous build, and capable of gratifying a fully developed woman, prefers a mere child of fourteen? I answer, because that very disparity affords him delight, gratifies the imagination, and constitutes that exact adaptability of circumstances of which I speak. In effect it is, of course, the imagination which is at work.
The law of contrast is constant in this as in all else. The distinction merely of the sexes is not of itself sufficient to the educated voluptuary there are needed further and special contrasts to perfect the idea he has conceived. The variations are infinite, but still the same law is traceable in all. Tall men prefer short women, fair men dark women, strong men select weak and tender women, and these women are fondest of vigorous and robust partners. Cupid’s darts are tipped with incompatibilities and feathered with the wildest incongruities; none but the inferior animals, the brutes themselves, will copulate indiscriminately with the opposite sex, and even these have their preferences and desires as irregular as those of mankind.
Who has not seen the unnatural conduct of a couple of street dogs, or laughed at the awkward efforts of some old cow, who driven to market with the common herd, vents her sensual instincts by mounting upon the back of her nearest neighbour?
Thus I respond to your invitation, and thus I give you my reasons for your preference for your niece, for the sweet but forbidden playmate, whose delicious tits I am now fondling.”
As Father Ambrose concluded, he looked for an instant upon the fair girl, and his great weapon rose to its utmost dimensions.
“Come, my forbidden fruit,” said he, “let me pluck you, let me revel in you to my heart’s content. This is my pleasure—my ecstasy—my delirious enjoyment. I will drown you in spunk, I will possess you in spite of the dictates of society—you are mine, come!”
Bella looked upon the ruddy and stiffened member of her confessor, she noted his excited gaze fixed upon her young body. She knew his intention, and prepared herself to gratify him.
Already had he frequently entered her tender belly and thrust the full length of that majestic penis into her small and sensible parts. Pain at the distension had now given way to pleasure, and young and elastic flesh opened to receive the column of gristle, with only just enough of uneasiness to make her careful in its reception.
The good man looked for a moment upon the tempting prospect before him, then advancing, he divided rosy lips of Bella’s slit, and pushed in the smooth gland of his great weapon: Bella received it with a shudder of mingled emotion.
Ambrose continued to penetrate until, after a few fierce thrusts, he buried his length in her tight young body, and she had him to the balls.
Then followed a series of pushes, of vigorous writhing on one part, and on spasmodic sobs and stifled cries upon the other. If the pleasures of the holy man were intense, those of his youthful playmate were equally ecstatic, and his stiff affair was already well lubricated with her discharge, when, with a groan of intense feeling he once more reached his consummation, and Bella felt a flood of spendings burn violently into her vitals.
“Ah, how you have inundated me, both of you,” said Bella, noticing as she spoke a large pool of spunk which covered her legs, and lay upon the sofa-cover between her things.