Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Goodheart and the Pagan Princess, an erotic novel by Dern Goode

   GOODHEART AND THE PAGAN PRINCESS

   by

   DERN GOODE

   Copyright (C) 2002 by Dern Goode

   CHAPTER FOUR

   A FAILED EXPERIMENT

   "Let us proceed," Mrs.  Dumfries said firmly.  "We must continue our
little experiment.  You, dear Philip, are our only hope."

   I bent to the task, realizing it would be a victory for the Lord as well
as myself if I could coax forth screams of impassioned delight from this
dear maiden.

   I drew my hand down along the curve of her belly and touched her pussy.
She reacted with a start that I initially thought to be the onset of that
long-awaited orgasm.

   "Do explain to me what is happening, my dear boy," said Mrs.  Dumfries,
"for the sake of my notes.  While I can experience her feelings
vicariously, I haven't a clue as to the sensations that are rippling
through your body."

   "She is wet," I explained.  "Her pussy is physically ready for the
thrust of my prick."

   "Oh, dear!" Mrs.  Dumfries cried.  "I fear I must remove my panties
before we proceed.  My drawers are dripping!  What a pity you can't share
the excitement I and the young man are feeling, Shana.  Yet, my poor cunt
will only get the feel of my own finger, while your hot pussy will
experience the full glory of that marvelous cock!"

   "Please," the girl sobbed, "record your rapturous delight for my
enjoyment later.  For now, I am feeling nothing at all."

   Their prattle began to wear on me.  Anxious to get on with the fuck, I
grasped the girl's fanny and pulled her down to my lap.  Shana's thighs
spread to straddle my naked knees, and my cock stretched upward, long and
thick, its purple, swollen head dancing jauntily between them.

   I rubbed my hand over the portals of her stretched twat and held it up
to show her the pearly cream her arousal had produced.

   "You see," I said encouragingly, "a perfectly normal reaction.  There is
nothing wrong with you."

   I dropped my hand again between her legs and began to ply my skills in
earnest.  I rubbed her intimately until I had her breathless.  She fell
against me, mashing her bosom to my chest and clinging tightly.

   "Go ahead, Shana," I whispered into her ear.  "Don't hold back; just let
yourself go--"

   She did, and the delicate warmth of feminine ejaculation wetted my palm.

   "Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs.  Dumfries.  "I fear I have soiled the
couch!  Surely you felt that, my dear?  That devilish young man is
certainly giving you a good time!  Even now, your body bears that blissful
blush of feminine fulfillment.  Why, I must confess that in my own married
life I have seldom experienced such intensity of delight.  It is simply not
the Christian thing for a woman to do.  But, of course, this case is
different.  We are only exorcising a demon, aren't we, my dears?"

   It was a demon, indeed!  I had at first considered the possibility that
the young maiden was simply pretending, perhaps feeling that her pious
shame would atone for her loss of innocence.

   But, now, I knew that to be wrong.  The evidence of her body was
overwhelming.  There was no doubt she had achieved an intense orgasm.  I
had been responsible for many women experiencing such delights, but not
once had I found one able to endure the pleasure without at least a whimper
of excitement.

   Shana's torment was particularly appalling because she could see her
desire being consummated physically, yet, without the release of her
longing.  It was a torture hatched by no less than the Devil himself!

   I resolved to fuck her and get rid of it.  Surely there would me no room
for a demon within her with my cock wedged in her pussy!

   I was angry, and as charged up as a bull in heat.

   I lifted the frail young lady in my arms and rained kisses on the hollow
of her throat.

   My mouth slid lower, and my lips closed around the tip of one breast.

   She arched upward, her body heating to a fever pitch as I carried her to
the sofa that had already been consecrated to the task at hand by the
juices of our hostess.

   Mrs.  Dumfries scurried out of the way, and I dropped Shana on the
cushions.  The preliminaries were over, the cuddling finished, and we were
all three without a stitch of clothing and ready to take advantage of the
moment.  I pressed her thighs apart and drove my prick into her tender cunt
all in the same motion.

   She gasped audibly from the force of my assault and shuddered beneath
me, her legs wrapping naturally around my waist as her taut lips settled
around the thickness of my cock.

   I began to move its thick head inside her, teasing her slowly, until our
mixed juices made the penetration easier, then I slammed forward.

   My godly intent disappeared; I simply wanted to fuck her.

   Her lips stretched to accommodate my meaty pole, her interior blazing
hot and melting around me as I pushed its inflamed head far up into her
belly and began stroking rhythmically.

   My breast filling with lust, I quickly broached the fine line between
gentlemanly and animalistic behavior.

   I rammed the entire length of my cock into her, slamming my balls
against her bottomcheeks, and began pounding the glistening pole into her
pussy faster and faster.

   Her body shook, but she held on, grasping me tightly with her legs,
gasping and grunting in passionless response to the pommeling her crotch
was taking.

   I can safely say that I had given her cunt as much pounding as a cunt
can bear.  But my poor cock was the loser in the battle and finally let go,
not entirely unexpectedly, and flooded her with sperm.

   "Can you feel that?" I cried without breaking the motion that kept
adding to the lusty torrent.

   "Certainly," she said, catching her breath.  "The channel between my
legs feels warm and sticky, and the irritating motion of your thing inside
me that was so vivid only moments ago has become blurred in your sloppy
outpouring--oh!  And now the feeling is fading.  You are dying within me .
. .  "

   "Oh, dear," said Mrs.  Dumfries, watching me remove myself from the
passionless girl.  I was drenched with perspiration and my spent prick had
lost its pride, shriveling up in my lap, as wet and messy as a greasy coil
of sausage.  "You have failed us.  I fear our noble experiment has turned
into nothing more than a debauchery."

   Tears came to the woman's eyes.  "You see, as I watched you mount that
dear child's thighs, I had so hoped you could release her from her curse.
Now I realize there is no hope.  Her bondage is fully as great as my own."

   I stared at her incredulously.  "You, too, have encountered a wooden
idol?"

   "A wooden idol?  Hardly, my dear sir.  I speak of the bondage shared by
all respectable married woman--the curse of fidelity.  A burden, I must
confess, that only became apparent to me when I saw you disrobe."

   I turned my full attention to the woman for the first time.  She sat
naked on the floor with her thighs spread in a most unladylike manner.

   My vision glazed, and I no longer saw her as the frumpy wife of my
professor, but as a woman in the full bloom of her maturity, a rose waiting
to be plucked.  Her matronly charms were ample and would enfold a lover
with a plush, cushiony warmness.  Her waist was wide, but had a shapely,
inward curve, and was balanced nicely by a pair of huge tits that hung down
with protuberant dark cones like fat handles at the ends.  A thick, dark,
womanly bush covered the swell of the mound between the hams of her thighs,
but the split was so swollen with arousal that the pink cleft was visible.

   The sight brought renewed life to my loins, and my cock began to
lengthen and fill, recovering fully from its dismal failure.

   I took my staff in hand, bringing it back to piercing hardness with a
couple of quick strokes, and dropped to my knees on the floor.  "With your
kind permission, Madam, I will show you just how feeble are those bonds
that hold you."

   Her eyes widened as she realized my intention.  "Oh, dear!  My
husband--"

   "--will be indebted to me for your pleasant disposition for days to
come."

   I pushed her back gently and applied my prick to the mouth of her hairy
twat.  Then I shoved it home.  Although her cunt was not as tight as that
of the young, almond-skinned girl, it was warm and welcoming and full of
life.

   "You see, dear lady," I said, "your hated bonds are entirely
self-imposed.  Like the fruitless steward, you have husbanded your talents
foolishly when you should have been bestowing them generously.  Passion
grows with use, as did the loaves and the fishes in the hands of our dear
Saviour.  Women thrive on variety, and it rejuvenates their spirits."

   Exploratory strokes of my stiff cock in her warm, mushy hole punctuated
my words.

   "Your husband will most certainly appreciate your renewed enthusiasm for
marital enjoyment upon your return to his bed."

   "Such powerful imagery," she said, shuddering beneath me, "and such
persuasive logic!  I have never heard such a clear, convincing
interpretation of the scriptures.  What a fine minister you will make."

   "Yes," I answered humbly.  "I am looking forward to shepherding a flock
and salvaging the poor, lost lambs."

   Her hands gripped the carpet, holding her position as the thrust of my
prick tried to move her along the floor.  Her eyes rolled with each hard
jab and the mass of her breasts began to shift rhythmically, the fat points
of her nipples drawing huge circles in the air.

   "You are tearing me apart," she grunted, "so deliciously inside.  Until
now...  only my husband . . .  alas, I fear half the length of my cunt has
remained virgin all these years--oh, my . . .  "

   The delicate clasp of her cunt walls tightened around my prick, and she
lapsed into the throes of orgasm.

   The events of the afternoon having again brought my own passion to the
bursting point, I erupted once more and spewed a full load of my cream into
her cunt.

   "Oh dear," she tittered, helpless beneath me as the warm stickiness
overflowed the gaping mouth of her sex and trickled between her legs to
soil the floor.  "This room is going to smell like a brothel!"

   "Never fear, Madam," I replied.  "I'm sure the odor will be foreign to
your husband."

   "Yes, but my other guests.  In some of their minds, I suspect, there
will be no doubt as to what has occurred here."

   "In the minds of those individuals, your reputation will be enhanced, I
am sure," I pointed out.

   She tittered, pleased at that idea.

   Panting, I rolled away from the warmth of the woman with the last drops
of my passion still oozing from my prick.  I looked from the happy, glowing
face of my hostess to the pitiful, sobbing countenance of the young lady
who cuddled herself tightly on the sofa watching us.  I had satisfied one
and failed the other.

   I filled with a godly anger, and my bile rose.  "Before you ladies and
the good Lord above," I stated firmly, "I make this solemn oath: I shall
not rest until I have obtained that cursed idol and released this dear
maiden here from its diabolical curse!"

  
___________________________________________________________________________
___________________

   Chapter Five at
/files/Authors/Dern_Goode/paganprincess/chapter05.txt

   Index at
/files/Authors/Dern_Goode/paganprincess/index.txt

   Your comments are appreciated.  Contact the author at
/files/Authors/Dern_Goode/www/contact.html