“It's not possible,” he whispered back.
“Yes it is. Nobody'll ever notice with the jogging of the horse-it'll look natural. I can lean forward on the horse's neck as if I'm asleep.”
Giuffredo was silent for a moment. He wanted to try it now to the point of desperation. He could never forgive himself if he lost this opportunity.
“But my clothes.”
“Slit them with your knife,” Lucrezia replied immediately. “You can change them as soon as we arrive and throw them away. “Nobody'll see in the dark.”
Giuffredo's heart was pounding with excitement. It was all incredible. He couldn't think it out. There was something which would make it dangerous. It was dangerous. Riding through the night on the back of a horse in the midst of a crowd of men-at-arms!
But Lucrezia had suggested it and she sounded as if there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Her confidence was infectious. They were in it together and he was so wild with a frightened excitement now that he couldn't keep his loins still.
“Hurry!” Lucrezia whispered.
Giuffredo glanced around at the dim riding figures. Their lanterns illuminated them in little tents of light. He and his sister were in the central shadow. Besides, everybody was concentrating on the road.
Carefully he took his small, jeweled dagger from his belt. He held it in his hand and glanced around again. Then with a quick movement he inserted the tip in the stitches of the cloth and slid the knife downwards, between him and Lucrezia. He was very careful. He felt the flat of the blade, cold against the heat of his genitals. He withdrew it, shoved it back into his belt. His belly was frozen with nervous tension. Now he couldn't bear to look around him, sure that someone had noticed. But when at last he did, he laughed nervously at his own stupid imagination. It was unlikely that anyone would have been able to see clearly enough to know what he was doing even had they looked.
He sat against Lucrezia, who was still squirming on the saddle. His stomach was so churned up that he felt unable to move. And then she did it for him. He felt her fingers, cool and as foreign and strange as the knife blade, pull apart her skirt.
His organ shot out rigidly at her, short, but stubby in its adolescence. He felt as if he wanted to piss. He couldn't bear her touch. But there was nothing to be done. He couldn't pull back his loins more than a few centimeters and her fingers followed relentlessly.
He gasped aloud and tried to smother the noise in a cough. Her fingers stroked and then her hand closed around the fleshy branch and squeezed gently, and then harder.
Her hand went under his organ and in through the slit and he winced as it caressed his testicles. He felt he would die of the sensation.
“Oh, God-now,” Lucrezia murmured. He felt her two bottom cheeks come back against his naked pin of flesh. Flesh against flesh! The thought as much as the sensation nearly made him swoon. His hand tightened on the reins, the other tightened on her stomach.
Lucrezia lay forward on the horse's neck, breathing hard against its mane. This position presented him with a half-full access to her genital region, while her skirt was still sufficiently long to cover them both.
Giuffredo felt suddenly very hopeless and incompetent. He wished the first time didn't have to be on a horse in full canter. But his prick was seething and it seemed that only the unknown thing would give a natural outlet to his feelings.
He pushed his penis against her, felt it nosing on the flesh of her buttocks, felt it rubbing into the rift between them and his chest was thumping all through with excitement.
Gently and then more firmly he pushed against her. He wasn't sure where he was or how to find out. The pressure of his organ against her flesh was enough to make him cough with stifled passion, but he couldn't seem to find the spot.
Lucrezia in her forward position would have made her movement too conspicuous by reaching back to guide him, and their position would have meant a dangerous disarrangement of her skirt, so she lay still, waiting for him to find the place.
Giuffredo edged his prick between the rift right down at its base near the saddle. He had to find the hole. He wanted desperately to find it. He pushed harder. His penis was pricking furiously and it felt suddenly moist. The horse cantered on and the echoes of the others surrounded them in the dimness.
He seemed unable to find the hole. He bit his lips in excitement and frustration. There was no feeling except a great, building pressure — and then suddenly Lucrezia gave a jerk which she controlled immediately and he felt a grip around the tip of his penis which filled him with a fresh wave of sensation. It gripped him like a claw and he tried to push straight in in his mad delight that he was fucking a woman that the unbelieved-in, impossible, was happening-actually happening.
Oh, that claw! Such an excruciating grip! He pushed and Lucrezia jerked and he heard her stifled gasp. Even in his desire he was frightened enough to look guiltily around. The horses cantered on, jogging up and down, gathering speed a little-a bustle of noise.
Giuffredo edged in farther, sliding forward on the saddle, jogging up into Lucrezia as the horse jogged, drawing out a little with the descent.
The hole was very tight. It was pulling back his foreskin with a bruising force which was painful and delightful at the same time. He occasionally heard a murmur from his sister. But she was controlling herself fairly well and pushing her bottom back onto him.
Lucrezia was in an agony of mixed pain and an excited desire to debase herself.
Lying along the horse, with her head so far from her extended bottom where she could feel Giuffredo's finger of flesh stiffly pruning, she had early realized that he was unwittingly probing her anus. She had been about to swing upright and back to tell him when something about the blunt exploration had stopped her. The point screwing there, not yet in the hole, but pushing hard into the cleft of entry made her strain as if she were emptying her bowels. It was a not unpleasant sensation and she suddenly wondered what it would be like to be screwed in her ass. She felt, too, a desire for a completely new sensation and there was something so wicked-seeming about the idea that she quickly resolved to let Giuffredo continue.
She even helped him by stretching back her behind and straining in an attempt to open the tiny posterior slit for him.
His prick was neither as big as his father's nor yet Cesare's, but when the first penetration came it gave her a nauseous shock of pain. She tried not to cry out and hid her face in the horse's thick mane.
From then on it was shock after shock becoming gradually less of a shock but always with the possibility of a relapse into an unexpected pain.
Her return was inflamed with pain which gave way to a sensation of being turned inside out, naked and debased but pervertedly thrilling. She tried not to wiggle and gasp, but she couldn't even be bothered to look up to see if anyone had noticed them.
His penetration, which became easier and easier, began actually to have an erotic effect on her normal sexual organ. She began to get more and more excited. It became more and more difficult to control both movement and sound. She was thankful that the canter of the horse hid her jogging to a considerable extent, making it seem quite natural.
Her anus felt as if it was a wide and deep hole, a gaping chasm into which Giuffredo was plunging his whole body in ravishment. Somehow she wanted more, even though she knew she could take little more. He seemed to be right up in her bowels. She thought of her inner tubes, wondered exactly where he was in them, felt the excitement growing in her vagina, knew she was going to come and pressed her head furiously into the horse's sweating neck and gasped out her fulfillment.