Halfway toward him she turned and went back to the door to look at the bolt, as if afraid she hadn't fastened it completely. Her ruse to show off her body was effective.
Innocent strained up in bed, his old penis throbbing at the sight of her oval buttocks which shadowed into gentle hollows as she walked. Seen from the back her waist seemed even slimmer in comparison with her hips, filled out as they were by those incomparable buttocks. What a rump! His fingers itched to hold it in his hands.
Lucrezia came toward the bed once more, quickly this time, and the Pope stretched out his arms toward her.
“We must make it as if we were completely given to the lusts of the flesh,” he said hoarsely. “If there is any self-consciousness about our lovemaking it will fail to satisfy and exorcise.”
She slipped into his arms and threw back her head as he began, feverishly, to kiss her breasts. He released her and grasped a breast in each hand, sucking the points as if they were trumpets, Lucrezia felt cold shivers slide convulsively down her spine. She abandoned herself to his lips which ran all over the top part of her body, sucking as if he wanted to draw blood from her skin.
She put her arms around his skinny body and pressed his head against her breasts. He Was quivering with excitement.
His hands began frantically to explore her body, moving down her back, smoothing her buttocks, gripping them, catching them in voluptuous handfuls of flesh; he ran his fingers along the warm ravine of cleavage between them, pressed the puckered flesh of her anus until she squirmed and whimpered; he stroked her thighs and sought her lips with his. His breath smelled of bad teeth and his tongue was rough. When she poked her fresh, little tongue back through his lips she felt spaces where some of his teeth were missing.
The Pope began to pant with a mixture of excitement and shortness of breath through his efforts. His heart was pounding unhealthily. But his penis was as stiff as a ramrod.
In a very short time his hands, which had savagely ravished her body, lingered over her most intimate parts with a dalliance which betrayed his utter sensuality, became insufficient instruments for his lustful satisfaction.
With each fistful of flesh he clenched-but-tucks, breasts, belly, her vaginal lips, his hands showed a wild catholicity-his hips strained up under the sheets and his penis pulsated like barrels of heated gunpowder.
With a shock, sudden and overwhelming as if cold water had been poured on his loins, the Pope felt Lucrezia's cool hands slip under the sheets and enclose the burning heat of his prick in their soothing balm. He shuddered from head to toes.
Her fingers soothed and caressed with what he would have remarked as practiced excellence had he not been so immersed in his own feelings and satisfaction. Then, gently, they began to rub up and down the stiff, brittle-seeming stem of flesh.
The Pope's lips moved the way they did when he prayed.
“For God's sake get into bed!” he managed to utter at last.
Lucrezia quickly slipped under the sheets, with his clawing hands helping her in.
His body was cold against hers-the body of an old bloodless man-an astonishing contrast overall with the heat of his penis, the one part of him truly alive.
She pressed the warm overflow of her flesh against the chilly skinniness, warming him, exciting him so that his hands jumped over her body, unable to keep still on her.
Innocent's lips shivered an accompaniment to his quivering body. He had seldom come across such a completely rounded, filled-out delight of womanliness and his hands could hardly take sufficient fill.
He squirmed as her hand moved off his penis, running down it, skimming over its base and teasing his testicles and the growing nucleus of heat between his old thighs.
Lucrezia, too, was squirming with delight as his fingers brushed her vagina and pierced into its moist outskirts. She rolled over on top of him, infusing his body with her soft warmth. She pressed down on him and rubbed her hips voluptuously against his prick which she felt rolling like a length of doughy bread between them, a length of hot, newly-baked bread.
His skinny old arms encircled her, pulling her at him, his hips pressed up against her, indenting her slight, sensual superfluity of flesh.
Gently, for several minutes they pressed together, with his hands holding her buttocks, his lips sucking her open mouth. And then she wriggled up a little on him until his prick waved wildly between her slightly opened thighs, cleaving up so that she could feel its upper side against her labia and against her buttocks.
She broke from his ardent kissing and levered herself toward an upright position, sitting across his loins, one thigh on either side of his body. She caught his rod in her hand, gave it a last squeeze, knelt up and placed it against the open mouth of her vagina.
The Pope raised his head from its horizontal position and let his eyes augment the pleasure of his bodily senses.
He watched her hold his penis toward her poised aperture, lower herself gently and then flop down on it with a gasp of pent-up breath. Immediately he felt an abandonment of his soul; it rushed down through his body to the head of his penis which was caught in the powerful contractions of her channel. It made the rest of his body, his mind, seem so much putty, so much lifeless clay. It was only down there at that one slim tube of living flesh that there was any reason for existence. The rest of him could have died if only that would go on living forever and ever amen, living and feeling, being squeezed in her slim channel which descended and rose on it, tightly, firmly, wetly, deliciously, forever and ever so that his lips began to mutter feverish, delirious obscenities.
Lucrezia plunged down on that stiff pike, feeling it tear up inside her as if a pikesman had made a fierce homeward thrust. Her breasts jumped with her plunges, her thighs sank lower and lower, her knees slithered farther away from his body on either side until the whole of her crotch was pressed against and around the base of his organ and the staff itself was totally contained inside her juicy tunnel.
From time to time she opened her closed eyes or brushed the hair from her face. Then she would see the Pope lying back, only his hips tensed, moving up at her in slight undulations as she descended. She would see his lips moving and his white strained face. And through her own stimulation which wetly inflamed her trounced passage she had the double satisfaction of knowing that things were going according to plan.
The Pope, too, opened his eyes ever so often and fixed her with his gaze. Then-and it took very little acting on her part-she would screw up her beautiful face in passion, to excite him, mutter obscenities herself and let her hair swing forward over her face in abandonment.
His body began to writhe and twist as his penis sank deeper and deeper into her moist, hot body. It was frail and bony and covered now with a thin film of perspiration.
He could feel the pounding of his heart. It seemed to fill his ears and his whole body. He was panting wildly, but having difficulty in breathing. But these discomforts seemed to add rather than detract from the pure exquisite quality of his sensation. The physical torture of his body whipped up his senses to a fine point of receptivity.
Through half-closed eyes he watched her full breasts leap and sway in their smooth, glossy skin; he felt her thighs warmly press into his loins as she came down, impaling herself on the rod which had impaled so many times before her and which, in spite of the Pope's weakness was still in a state of perfect workability — the only part of him which functioned as always.
He was getting more and more excited. A thrumming in his loins joined with a thrumming in his chest and ears.
Lucrezia pressed harder and harder on him, giving him no respite, drawing herself right up above him, so that only the knob of his organ remained nestled in the warm pink portals of her sex and then crashing down again so that she felt that spear of flesh soar up inside her with a movement which made her stomach turn over. At the end of the downward stroke she ground her crotch and buttocks against him, squirming on him for a few seconds until gasps burst from his lips.