Reenact this scene

“I think I can help you, Alison.” I try to remain calm, so she doesn’t see the lust I am feeling. “But you have to trust me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is as hushed and serious as mine.

“Let’s go back to that confused fantasy you had, back when you first read about Ursula and her handmaidens.” I move slowly, like a hunter stalking a timid doe, aware that anything could startle her and ruin the moment. When I am laying alongside her I rest my hand on top of hers and gently press her fingers into the gap between her parted thighs. “When you lay in bed back then, and imagined you were fighting to save your virtue, did you usually imagine you were Ursula, or some nameless maiden that history has forgotten?”

“She is just a young girl like I was, an innocent who knows nothing about men.” I can feel Alison’s hips start to move again as I take her back to the familiar memory.

“What about the Hun who she was given to?” I murmur into her ear, “was he young like the teenaged boys you saw at the pool, or was he an old man like me?”

“You’re not old, Mr. P.” Alison protests weakly, “but the warrior wasn’t a boy. He was an experienced man, strong and powerful … and merciless.”

“As you lay there in bed,” I ask even as my hand leaves hers and starts exploring upward, “what did you think about? I want you to describe every nasty thought, even the most intimate.”

“Please, Mr. P.” Alison pleads, “it’s so embarrassing.”

“I know, Angel.” I reassure her, “but I’m a merciless, powerful man, so you have to do as I command.” The effect is exactly what I hoped for as she gasps loudly and her legs clamp together. By now, I’ve reached her breasts and when my hand cups her flesh she arches her back pressing her hard nipple into my palm.

“I try to fight … I know that if my legs are spread open that he’ll defile me … I fight so hard, but he's doesn't stop ...” Alison eyes are closed again, and both her hands are covering her mons as her hips buck under them. “He’s so strong … he’s on top of me, pinning me to the furs of his tent …” I roll on top of her pressing her into the mattress with my weight and Alison’s voice becomes even more fevered. “I’m begging him, but he just laughs … Oh God … I tell him I'm a virgin ... that no man has ever been with me ...” Her legs are clenched tightly together and I can feel her hands working at her sex hard and fast between her pelvis and me.

“Does he **** your legs apart?” I prompt her. My cock is pressed against her belly and is as hard as I can ever remember.

“Sometimes,” Alison gasps weakly, “but sometimes he doesn’t even have to.” Her whole body shudders as she confesses. “The pagan warrior commands me to open for him, Oh God, I’m so weak and he’s so strong …” her whole body is quivering, and I can feel the frantic pace of her fingers as she jills her pussy. “He tells me to spread them … and I do.”

“Spread them,” I growl deep in my throat, “spread your pretty legs so I can fuck you.” With a whimper Alison’s legs spread under me and I sink between her smooth thighs. It is a little awkward getting my cock into her because of her fingers, but once the head of my cock past her labia and the wiggling fingers, the extra stimulation they provide make the sensation even better.

“Yes,” Alison moans when she feels my girth pushing open her tight passage, “yes just like that. I let him take whatever he wants from my pure, untouched body … he’s tearing me open … and I let him.” I know that this is no virgin, but the way she’s responding to my manhood sinking slowly deeper into her makes me almost forget. This is the tightest pussy I’ve felt wrapped around my cock since before Fran and I were married and it’s not hard to imagine that I am that ancient warrior claiming my prize as she twitches under me.

“Oh please,” Alison is jerking under me, “It’s so big … so hard … can’t stop you … can’t stop you … you’re making me … oh!? … Ohh! … Aiigghh!” I feel her juices flood around my cock, hot and slick and her whole body tightens in an unmistakable climax.”