The Inner Beast

Her body was still a bit tired, and a lot sore, but telling any of this to the Hessian was far from her mind. Her skin tingled at the touch of his fingers as they poked beneath the shift she’d just put on and pulled it down her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She was not shy about being naked in front of him; there was no reason to be. She’d have turned pirouettes while nude in front of him if he asked it of her.

His hands instantly cupped her naked breasts as he kissed her. He’d noticed last night how sensitive her nipples seemed to be, and this morning he was thankful that was so. Years ago he had owned a girl, an odalisque; she had been a gift of payment from some Sheik who had contracted the Hessian’s services for war in Egypt. Satra was a bellydancer; she danced the sword for her Hessian master in a costume made of linked gold coins and tangerine silks every night, and then performed such acts and abilities upon him that could only be learned outside of Europe. She was an exotic beauty, made more valuable by how responsive she was under his hands. Still, within only a year, he’d traded Satra for a strong jet, black Arabian stallion, Daredevil’s sire. He never loved Satra, and she was not paid to him to love him, but he‘d learned many things from her as he worked off his lusts. She’d showed him how to control his body’s need for release by drawing in and holding deep breaths, and how to initiate maidens to his size. Before Satra, he’d never known a woman who could be satisfied by contact with her breasts and nipples. At least, perhaps until now he had not.

His fingers rubbed around the girl’s pink areola, watching as the point in the center hardened and extended out. She moaned and swooned, leaning her naked body closer against his. The Hessian smiled, this may be possible. “I worry that I will hurt you further,” he whispered.

“It cannot be helped,” Cloella answered as she placed her hands over his at her breasts.
“You do not mean to, and it will not always be so. You will make me fit you.” She smiled.

Yes, he would do that! And his stiffening member again twitched at the image, but this was not the time to let himself chase that thought. Instead, he pinched both her nipples between his thick fingers, she cried out, falling against him. “If there is too much pain, there are other ways I can pleasure you.” He told her, for he was certain now she could reach her point by the work of his hands and mouth at her breasts, and nothing more.
Cloella’s body burned like it had last night, the soreness deep between her legs had turned to a new aching sensation, like she needed to be completed inside, and she wanted him above her, now! “No!” She nearly shouted in her desire, “I need to have you one with me, to have you claim me in that way!”

God, he was trying to be slower, more cautious, more gentle than he was the previous night, but when she talked to him like that he couldn’t control himself. Her hands undoing his belt and fumbling with the brass buttons at the side seams of his black pants didn’t help him to regain any of his poise.

“I want to see it!” She said in her heated urgency. Even in the dim and flickering candlelight of last night she could make out that he was remarkable. He was like holding a gun in her hands, heavy, smooth, wanting to fire. She wanted to see him reach his point, watch his erection tremor and pulsate as his stream of hot white semen left his strong body.

The Hessian tore off his tunic, letting her free him of his pants. He’d never had a woman who was so obsessed with his body. Last night it had been his broad chest that had attracted her attention; today it was something that pleased him so much more. His greatest fear, after hurting her, was that she would now be afraid of his large size, but she was just the opposite.

Both her hands wrapped around his length and still could not entirely enclose his full erection. He groaned, she was gently gripping him; she’d paid such close attention last night and knew his pressure points. “I cannot allow myself to be as brutal again.” He told her, but her fingers were rubbing up and down his bulky shaft, making him want to thrust into her hands.

“You were not brutal,” Cloella said sweetly, for she hadn’t felt at all that he’d been selfish or overly demanding. He was a big, strong warrior; she’d accepted that his style was fast, furious and hammering. She kissed his chest, searching out his nipple with the tip of her tongue, tracing it and then kissing it until she’d sucked it’s erect peak into her mouth. Her hands kept up their work, moving down to his large glans, rubbing across the cleft and down beneath it, outlining tiny circles on his frenulum until his broad chest heaved and his head dropped back, ice blue eyes closed. “I want to watch your seed escape your body,” she whispered, although if he’d thrown her onto the bed, parted her thighs and stuffed his beautiful long hard penis into her, she wouldn’t have been disappointed either. The sight of his full erection in daylight, added with his muscular naked body, had caused her thighs to dampen with her moisture. She moved her hands away from his pounding erection to touch him along his strong thighs, feeling the striations of their muscles. Such a wonderful and full erection jutting up from between those powerful thighs was enough to make her ready for his entrance. Still, she let her fingers trail upwards, his stomach trembling as her fingertips dragged through the definition lines of his strong abdominal wall, up his big pectoral muscles, careful of the bandage and his wound, smoothing her hands over the hulking deltoids and trapezious muscles of a master swordsman. His body was dazzling, strapping, capable. “Yes!” She moaned as if speaking out for her fulfilled fingers. “Hessian, you are a glorious beast!”

His head snapped up, his blood running in his veins like the strike of lightening now. How did she manage to always know what words to say to make him his most lecherous? He would have grabbed her, turned her around, bent her over and showed her what kind of beast he could be again, but she’d already dropped to her knees before him, her hands once again gripping his shaft. Yes, he would let her work him with her mouth again, he would let her see his climax; for it would wear down this current crazed lust, and then he would make love to her, and not fuck her as he had last night. He looked down at her, breathing heavily, reaching down and placing his big hand on her jaw line, his fingers pressing at the back of her head. “You intend to ravish me?”

Cloella smiled, running her fingers his entire length. “I do.”

The Hessian shivered at the sensation, as he sat down on the edge of the bed, drawing her closer in between his legs as he did. “Do as I tell you.” He spoke softly, but Cloella could see the lascivious luster in his eyes.

“Without hesitation!” she added. Yes! He would teach her what pleased him! She’d been clueless the night before when her instincts spurred her to take his member in her mouth, but now, she would know how he wanted this done.

He pressed against her lips with his thumb, parting her lips, opening her mouth and guiding her to his engorged glans. “Release the tension in your throat,” he whispered, for he would attempt to have her swallow however much of him she could. He held his erection in a direct line with her mouth, as the head of his stiffened penis was touching against his defined abdominal muscles. “Move as slowly as you like, we will conduct this delicately.”

She let him steer his big firm glans into her mouth, cradling her tongue around it, dropping her jaw more, breathing easily and trying to keep her throat relaxed as he had said to do. He kept guiding himself into her mouth, and her mouth onto his long shaft. She could feel his unending hardness pressing at the back of her throat; that was it, there was no more room, or was there? She struggled to keep her teeth guarded with her lips, but there was precious little room to move. He had stopped feeding himself to her, sensing she needed to rest and adjust. Instead, Cloella took the time to stretch the skin of her cheeks around him, and rub her tongue against the part of his shaft she could reach.
“Oh dear girl!” He moaned. She must not have been as tired, or feeling as awkward as he had anticipated, but why would he think she was so? “Let your body become lose,” he whispered, one hand pressing on her chin to open her mouth wider, and the other supporting her head as he carefully pushed the remaining few inches of his hard flesh passed her lips.

Cloella couldn’t help gagging, he’d pushed himself well into her throat, but once he was there, the reflex settled. The Hessian moaned and groaned in obvious pleasure, unable even to speak. He pounded against her full mouth and throat, she couldn’t breathe for he took even the room she needed to draw a breath. She tried to wait for further instructions, but had to move her head back to get air. As soon as he slid out of her throat, the Hessian groaned a deep groan, his long fingers grasping her long red hair up by its roots. It was all the instruction she needed, and she began to move her head, to bob it up and down, and sideways, the Hessian lost in his pleasure and reverting back to passionate German the whole time.

The Hessian had not felt the exquisiteness of being deep in a woman’s throat since before he’d given up their company. He was too large for most women who would even agree to give him oral pleasure to take too deeply. But the girl was an incredible, capable treasure, and full of surprises, for he felt her take him back into her throat, the tip of her nose hidden in the nest of coiled black wiry hair below his strong abdomen, and she began to rotate her head in long, slow complete circles, letting his long wide shaft and large glans slide around all over her mouth and throat. Her small hand caressed his big round testicles, cupping them, rubbing them between both her palms, her index finger deftly toying with the maddeningly sensitive spot of skin that lay behind them. His chest heaved rapidly, he panted through parted lips, sharp teeth biting at something unseen and his giant hands clenched into fists. God, he could take no more! How was a girl so recently deflowered able to do such things? He fell onto his back, the girl having to raise up onto her knees and follow him without missing a beat, and he thrust into her mouth again and again only to have her amaze his hypersensitive body by changing the direction of her lazy circles, changing the sensation and driving him to a fevered pitch of passion that he’d never before known. If he hadn’t remembered she’d asked to see his climax, he would not have stopped himself from pushing her face into his groin and letting himself come deep in her throat, for his organ swelled, thumped, prepared to burst.

“What you have worked so hard to witness is near,” he gasped to her as he withdrew himself from her mouth and her mouth from him. He lay on his back, paralyzed by pleasure, as she remained kneeling between his strong legs, gripping him with her hands.
“Come!” she whispered eagerly, although the choice of her words again had nothing to do with logical thought. She felt the surge and bolts of energy running up and down and around his bloated penis, like a great storm was brewing within his beautiful organ. He was so stiff it pointed almost straight up, but curved elegantly back towards his body. She rubbed her hands up and down his thick shaft, leaning over his glans and placing her tongue against it, sliding the bottom of her tongue around the top of the smooth sticky head of his member, then the sides, and the top of her tongue across his wide frenulum, and then back up the opposite side of his glans to it’s top again with the underside of her tongue. She completed three of these revolutions at a hurried pace, trying to rush his ejaculation, for she couldn’t wait to see it. The Hessian thrust violently into her hands, were these the same strokes he’d driven himself into her with last night, she wondered, for watching him move so viciously only made her want him to do so to her again. His big glans was not only the size of a plum now, but also about the same color, and she watched as the cleft in it widened. She smiled.

His body seemed to hum and buzz with his release when it finally came, a huge blast of hot white liquid that baptized the girl’s fingers and his abdomen, with still more spurting upwards and then running back down like a glaze over his relaxing penis. His entire body suddenly fell weak, and he lay on his back gasping for air and letting his mind slowly regain control of his actions once again.

Cloella explored the sloppy white substance on her fingers. It reminded her of egg whites, slippery and slimy, yet with a bit more texture to it. It was not easy to visualize children created of such stuff. Some of it dried into a crust on her fingers, and she went to her water basin and washed her hands while the Hessian recuperated. He’d come with such power and force, no wonder he seemed so drained.

“I regret that I will need a few moments to rest,” he said to her from the bed. He’d rolled to his stomach, his head supported on his strong forearm as he gazed at her naked form, taking in the curve of each of her beautiful buttocks as she stood at the basin. His passion was spent, but he could still admire her body the way an artist did an ideal sculpture.
Cloella smiled, she could feel his eyes on her and she enjoyed it. “How is your wound?” She asked as she turned and walked towards him.

“Stop worrying about that and come here,” he grumbled reaching out and taking her by the hand and pulling her down beside him. “I have had many wounds, but of beautiful, and gifted, women I have had very few.”

Cloella shook her head, but smiled at his compliment. His broad strong back was spread out before her; he was so big and so robust and she loved it. She turned more towards him from where she was sitting beside him and placed both her hands upon his back, beginning to rub and soothe the thick muscles within it. She began at the base of his neck, pressing tiny circles with her thumbs into his bulky trapezious muscles, feeling his head drop lower onto the pillow as they relaxed, and then moving with all of her fingers to his deltoids, releasing the tension there as well before she moved down to his shoulder blades which were barely discernable due to all the muscle that covered them.

The Hessian groaned a satisfied but surprised approval, for it had been so long since he’d been afforded a back rub. “I have never known a woman such as you.” He said. “But then, I would not have bet that there were women like you.”

“You flatter me, sir,” Cloella smiled as her hands pressed and kneaded their way down his spine. She couldn’t help but wonder if the massage she was giving him may hasten his recovery, for touching his hard muscular body made her yearn to be filled to her capacity with his solid member. He was probably as long and as thick as her forearm, she figured, and therefore, he must have been superior to other men in that area. For if all men were endowed the way the Hessian was, but without his towering height and strong frame, how were regular men to walk? She couldn’t suppress the giggle that came to her at that thought.

“What amuses you?” He wondered, for he could feel that the pressure of her hands on his flesh had increased gradually as she became quiet with what he imagined were some type of lecherous thoughts. He wanted to know what they were.

“I was only thinking how…” but she stammered, giggled again, covered her blushing cheeks with one of her hands.

“How what?” He smiled, even more enthusiastic to know her thoughts. “As the only man you have ever known, I am pleased to be subjected to any inquiries you can bring yourself to make.”

“I thank you for such generosity, then,” Cloella said, but the smile would not leave her face, and it wouldn’t until she asked her question, and she knew it. “Your…” she began but stopped again, laughing some more, not able to bring herself to name what she meant to speak of, though she could think of several names for it. “…are all men so very…I mean to say, that you are so…” she stopped again, finding one of the words he’d said about her earlier. “…’gifted’!” she nearly shouted and then collapsed across his back laughing in bad-girlish glee.

The Hessian laughed too, no woman had ever wanted to discuss his body like this before and he enjoyed this openness. “Nein, other men are not as blessed with cock as I have been! You, mein Liebe, are undeniably ruined.”

She’d shrieked with delightful laughter when he’d said the word ‘cock’, for she had come so close to saying it herself. She liked the sound of the word with his accent wrapped around it, and that brought another thought to her mind. She sat up again, continuing the back rub she’d began giving him, but couldn’t help smirking at what she knew she was about to say. “So, Hessian…is it your Teutonic roots that have ‘blessed’ you with such a ‘cock’?”

His muscles tensed with the surprise of the word that left her mouth, but he wasn’t dismayed. Would she ever cease to amaze him? He looked at her with great amusement, he loved that she would step down from the pedestal of piety women were taught to stand upon. “You are a very bad girl!” He growled with mock disgust as she giggled and beamed. This play was starting to make his desire creep up again. “And nein, mein country is Deutschland, not Cock-land!” He laughed. “Where I am from is not a factor.”
Cloella laughed until tears were at the corners of her eyes. Eventually her sides ached, and she stopped to draw in a breath and sober herself, leaning down and kissing his shoulder then resting her cheek upon it. She loved him like she never knew she could love anyone and the thought made her sigh and smile. “Where are you from?” She asked, but then quickly added “And I prohibit you to say ‘from Hell’!”

He rolled to his back, taking her in his arms. “You are learning,” he sighed. He hadn’t spoken of his home or family history in nearly two decades. He wouldn’t have now if this girl weren’t so vital to him. “I was born the eldest, but illegitimate, son of Baron Grafen von Spiegel of Desenberg in Kassel.”

“Illegitimate? I am so sorry.” Why had she asked? She should have known better, perhaps this was why he seemed to hate his name so thoroughly. Still, the Hessian didn’t seem angered.

“Nein, do not be, it was not your doing,” but he seemed to be far away, remembering something Cloella began wishing she hadn’t induced him to. “I am the child of the Baron and his mistress, whom he had put to death for treachery when I was three. By that time, I had two younger half brothers, Karl and Bernd, and I was raised with them, but never quite as equal to them despite being their eldest brother. But we were children; brothers, we were friends. The Baron schooled us in all manor of military tactics and weaponry, myself taking to it and learning it much faster than my two siblings. At ten and six years I was sent away to the army, my brothers were sent to University, but my father, who was also a general, had taken a keener interest in myself, his illegitimate son, than in his other two legal heirs. Each time I returned home from a campaign, the Baron would order me to tell tales of the battles I had fought, and he would turn to my brothers and ask why they were not such men as me. Or, he would engage me to fence with him, never pleased until one of us retreated with blood dripping from some wound. All the while he would berate my brothers for not being as strong as I was, for not being as war-like, and then berate me for not being his legal heir. He made no secret of the fine horses he would reward me with upon my homecomings, and many times I was to later learn that the animal I had newly received had been taken away from Karl or Bernd. In the very presence of my brothers the Baron would say to me ‘you are the only worthy son I have, and though these two may have a legal right to anything I leave to you, that they could possibly ever fight you and take anything from you is ridiculous!’ My brothers knew this was so, I was bigger, I was stronger and I was deadlier with broadsword, rapier, ax, foil or musket.” The Hessian paused; he could still here the Baron’s voice. “It was not so long after the Baron’s death and Desenberg was left to me that my brothers decided I was to be removed, by an assassin they had hired. I had of course known to expect something, for I was nearly twenty plus two years, no longer a child, and the Baron had seen to it that my brothers and I were no longer friends.” He paused again, looking down at the girl, for he’d felt her tremble as he spoke.

“You don’t have to continue,” she whispered, for she didn’t want to make him feel the obvious pain again. Why oh why had she asked him such a thoughtless thing?
“Nein, I have told you very little of myself. You are worth my trust, and you are worth knowing the story of the man you share your bed with.” He wanted to tell her this; he needed her to know this. No one knew this; he’d dumped it along with his name, although this story was how the Hessian hellion was born. The girl was quiet, waiting now for him to continue. He would skip the most horrible parts for her sake; there were still some things she did not have to know. “The assassin failed, obviously, but shortly following that attempt on my life, I was informed by letter that my battalion was marching into Alsace, France and that I was to join them at once. However, the assassination attempt had only been a decoy, to fool me into thinking the threat had passed. I fell for it, and what I found in Alsace was not my battalion, but a company of French mercenaries, paid by my brothers to captured me, and then lock me away in an oubliette, where I remained for the next eight years. Their mistake was in not killing me.”

“Your teeth?” Cloella asked, for she recalled him mentioning the French prison before.

“Yes, along with so much more that I chiseled away while caged in that filthy hellhole pit.” He paused again, for his eight years in the black pit had been what made him into the beast he was, the one he so outwardly enjoyed being, but found himself so often regretting when he held the girl in his arms. “What is so very strange is that I scarcely remember escaping from prison though I’d nurtured the plan for years and years. I just know that I did, and I left a trail of blood in my wake all the way back to Desenberg, where I killed my brothers, their families, their servants, and then left, became the mercenary I am today, and never returned to Kassel, or Deutschland again.” He had expected silence to fill the room, and when the girl drew back from him, he was certain that he’d stunned her.

“I will not allow you to go on blaming yourself entirely.” She stated, looking down into his eyes, caressing his cheek.

Again she surprised him. “What I blame myself for is not your burden.” There wasn’t even a look of dread, or tears in her eyes. Instead, he saw what he swore was a mix of anger, compassion and, was that love? He sat up closer to her, as if to get a better look.
Cloella shook her head. “Whatever causes you such pain causes me pain as well,” she said as his body drew close to hers, and he stared into her eyes. Her heartbeat sped up as her eyes locked with his ice blue orbs. She knew his secrets now, and knew that she would never call him by his name, and that he would never call her by her name. He was the lost Baron of Desenberg, and a hellish creature to everyone else, but to her, he was her Hessian. “I love you!” The words barely made it through her lips before he crushed her to him and kissed her.

The Hessian trembled as the words bathed him. He rolled her beneath him, his body suddenly ready to become one with hers, to be the lover to her he could not control himself to be before. He did not desire a fast and furious release now; his only desire was to be inside the girl, but not just one with her body, but one with her soul. He clasped her tightly to him, kissing her mouth, neck, shoulders, and breasts wildly. “You are what I thought I would never find, or never want, or never deserve!” The words he spoke were more accurately the mumbles of intense emotions that took him over. “There is but one fleck of golden goodness in my blackened soul, and it is governed by you! I will never falter in your service, I will never leave you, I will…” but his breathlessness forced him to pause.

“You would…” Cloella was moved to tears. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? “You would…die for me?” She of course hadn’t wanted to even think of that happening, but he certainly seemed to be chasing words of that magnitude, and it was unbelievable that any man could be moved to do such by a poor, fallen from grace, supposed witch.

Something sobered the Hessian, but he was not alarmed by what she had asked. He held her face with both his large hands, his eyes locking with hers again. “No, I would kill for you! There is more depth and dedication in the act!”

Cloella stared back at him for what seemed like hours, letting his words fall over her and seeing how right he was. To be so completely in someone else’s power that you would take the life of another for them was so much more momentous than dying for them. A warm rush of desire and love swept over her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, not having to wait for his tongue to join hers in her mouth, and his body to melt into hers.

They never broke their kiss as the Hessian rolled them to their side, the girl’s legs clinched around his hips. His new erection nudged her hot, moist pink folds; she was also ready to be one with him. He removed one hand from the embrace he held her in and passed it down between their bodies, taking his large penis in his grasp and gently rubbing the dense, full glans around and around her swelling clitoris in a slow circling motion. He heard her and felt her moan, pressing her sweetness against what he offered as he took her lower lip between both of his to gently tongue and suck it. Her hard nipples scraped his broad chest and her nails were again scraping his back in passionate anticipation as she squeezed her legs around him. He would not tease her.

“You will tell me if there is pain?” He asked in whisper, but Cloella knew it wasn’t really a question.

“You would never hurt me.” She answered, and moved her hand down between their bodies, covering his hand with hers, and urging him to unite them.

He’d chosen this position because it did not allow him to thrust deeply, but instead kept them face-to-face and embracing each other tightly. What he truly desired was to be as close to the girl as he could be and nothing more. She wrapped her arms back around his neck and kissed him again, he felt one of her stiff pink nipples touch his, and her heart pounded against his own. Spurred on by a sudden fusion of love and lust, he pushed himself into her, gently, yet hurriedly, and as deep as he could.

Cloella jumped and jolted against him, there was a sudden sharp pain that quickly faded as her body adjusted. He was already driving into her with short, slow, intense thrusts, opening her up more and more as they continued to kiss and hold one another. He was so different from the previous night, for he was utterly tender with her now, loving her. She imagined he not only punctured her still tight sex, but that he also punctured her adoring heart.

The Hessian pushed his leg up against her hamstrings, so that he could penetrate her a bit deeper, but did not roll her to her back. He felt so much more than just her wet, downy heat, for he swore their souls twisted and interlocked. His heart tingled with the feeling of an intimacy he would never have guessed he wanted to know. His eyes were closed as they kissed and kissed, skin rubbing and pressing passionately against skin; he could not see her beauty with his eyes, but he could feel it. She was kindhearted, honest, trusting, caring, magnanimous, supportive and sacrificing; all the things he had cast out of his being like demons. Yes, he would kill for her, he would pledge his soul to her. God, he must feel more of her!

Cloella felt him draw back from their tight, warm embrace, supporting himself on one elbow and interlocking the fingers of that hand with hers as he kept her leg in place over his hip with the other hand. He still lay between her legs, still on his side, as was she, but Cloella’s upper body was now twisted somewhat away from him as he thrust more deeply within her. He pressed her pelvis into his and held her there with his big hand on her buttocks as he continued to slowly pump into her, rotating his hips against hers rhythmically. Cloella lay back moaning as she enjoyed these new, deeper sensations, for not only had he slipped further within her, but every tender pink crease, her vulva, labia, clitoris, was pressed against the Hessian’s groin; the contact was incredible.
The Hessian moaned too at the feeling of the wet seal of her inner folds against his skin. He looked down at the girl, she was absolutely pleasured by his actions, laying back, letting him make love to her. Her body began to quiver and her teeth to gently chatter, he knew she was close and dropped his head down to her lovely breasts, kissing and sucking her nipple into his mouth, pinching it between pursed lips as his tongue stabbed at the pink point.

Cloella rubbed her vulva against his groin until her body flashed cold and then hot, she gasped for breath as the strain built up in her body, and she climaxed with a surrendering shriek of enchantment as her tiny body hugged his savagely hard, huge rod.

The Hessian rolled to his back as her convulsions faded and her body slumped tiredly. He sat up again with her in his lap, taking her weak form in his arms and kissing her and hugging her as she recovered. He didn’t thrust, he couldn’t from this position, but he just held her close, feeling himself inside her and letting the sensation of her warm soft body caressing his throbbing penis carry him. Knowing that he’d pleased this beautiful girl that he loved so entirely sent familiar quivers up and down his shaft. It wouldn’t be long.

“You are so gentle,” Cloella said almost sleepily, for it was hard to believe he was the same man that had fucked her the night before.

The Hessian shifted, laying her down on her back, her legs spread wide around him as he supported himself with his elbows on either side of her shoulders, bringing his body lower to hers to kiss her again. “Because I am captivated,” he whispered as he began to thrust into her with a bit more force, but still not roughly.

“You do not have to be so refined,” she said to him, reaching up and stroking the muscles of his chest with her soft fingertips. Though she enjoyed what he was doing she was afraid he was not taking as much pleasure in their coupling, for he was not making any of the pleasurable sounds or even mumbling passionately in German. He’d pleased her, he’d given of himself, but now she wanted to do the same for him. “Take what you need from me.”

He kissed her, thrusting into her deeply and then holding the position. “This is what I need from you.” He whispered as he moved both his massive hands beneath her buttocks, lifting her onto his thighs and pulling her onto him, sliding his full length within her. “Let me be your lover, not your conqueror.”

He knelt between her wide spread legs, supporting her hips against his, only Cloella’s shoulders and dizzy head remained on the bed as he thrust into her gaining in strength and intensity but his manners were unremitting. She could feel his strength and power without being pummeled by it as before, and his bulky organ was now brushing up against the spongy spot on the upper wall of her vagina. It swelled above his driving erection, making her arch her back, shoving her breasts upwards as he took her complete weight, holding her pelvis still with his strong arms and thrusting into her with more force and power. He was bulging inside of her, pounding, and now she could hear his mother language quivering from his mouth.

The Hessian pulled her into his thrusts now, urgent for his second release, his body was sore with the expectancy. The girl quaked in his arms too; he wanted nothing more than to meet her in her climax. The room was filled with gasps, groans, frantic cries of mixed German and English that neither could clearly make out from the other. Two bodies tensed, twisted, fought for release, begged for climax, and then exploded into one another.

The smoke and dust of passion settled in one another’s reviving brains; they came to, finding each other staring into the other’s eyes. A perfect peace hung between them that neither dared to ruin with words. He loved her, and she felt it. She loved him, and he felt it. They kissed, almost as if for the first time, wrapping one another in their arms, and letting their spent bodies find rest.