The Three Princesses Read Online Free PDF Page A

back. She felt divine around his cock, silken and smooth and wet and heavenly, not as tight as her throat but in some manner better, matching him perfectly, receiving each thrust with pleasure. Still he held onto his control. Each thrust was measured, rough, to the base of his cock, and then slowly back out, slowly, drawing forth his glistening member, until his head was just encased by her delicate lips and then he'd pause, as if hesitating, and then drive it home again, her whole body shaking, her breasts rocking, her head turning from one side to the other, moaning, groaning, gasping as he drove her mad.
    He would not relent, did not want to relent, but she felt too perfect. His own desire was mounting, his own need. That fire was burning once more in his cock, in its root deep within him, and he gripped her tighter around the hips in an attempt to control himself, burying his fingers cruelly in her flesh as he did so. She laughed, and he saw that she liked the pain, the sting of his grip, and this only pushed him farther. Again and again he rammed his veined cock deep into her, and again and again he slowly pulled free. Circe held her breasts, kneading the nipples, and a thin sheen of sweat appeared over her smooth skin. Sweat was burning across the Woodsman's forehead now, stinging as it ran into his eyes, running down his back and over his chest. Deeper and deeper, pounding now, rhythmic and potent, over and over again into her he slid, until she began to let out cries of pleasure, of need, losing her sense of self, her control. Again and again, faster and harder he went into her, until at last he was pulling out as fast as he was ramming home, slipping his hands down and around to grasp her round ass cheeks and leaning back and pulling her against him.
    Over and over he fucked her until he felt a violent wall of red and blackness rising up beneath his eyes, till his cries were joined with hers, the bed shaking and jumping and her legs tightening around him. He felt her convulse beneath him, great rolling clenches of her pussy around his dick, and he knew in some far off corner of his mind that she was coming, coming so hard she was crying out endlessly, and he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop, continued to fuck her and each thrust drove her orgasm to greater heights, redoubled their intensity and made her writhe all the more.
    He felt his orgasm approaching like an avalanche, a force of nature, and in that moment he saw his wife, her face, how she would look as she would come, how her eyes would flutter closed and she would gasp and claw at his shoulders, and with a great roar he exploded deep within Circe, pulling her so tight against himself that he felt melded to her, locked forever in that one eternal moment that rolled on and on as he jerked and spasmed within her depths, unleashing jet after jet of cum into her, feeling overcome, overwhelmed, agonized. He cried out, was held frozen at the peak, the trembling apex of his being, and then fell forward as if felled by his own ax and collapsed next to Circe's gasping body.
    The Woodsman lay there, face pressed into the sheets, shuddering and gasping for breath, Circe's legs still wrapped around him, his cock still buried deep within her. He felt her arms around him, her lips on his neck, but he was oblivious to her touch, shivering and fevered as his orgasm tolled through his being like the ringing of a great bell. He was lost, walking alone through dark woods, feverish and adrift, and it was only with great effort and Circe's caresses that he came back to himself, from searching for the shade of his wife between those shadowy trees.
    Finally he rolled over, slipping free from Circe's pussy as he did so, to lie on his back and gaze up at the ceiling. Circe lay beside him, running her hand over her body, touching her breasts, her nipples, moving her fingers down her stomach to caress her thigh, and finally she sat up, her golden hair sliding free from beneath the