The Conquests of Samson: The Madam

Even if the madam moved him to a bedroom, he rarely would stay there for long. The alpha stud acted like he owned the place. His manner invariably offended the other patrons. Whorehouses were a proving ground for masculinity in the most primal, personal sense. Accordingly, most men did not enjoy the ego-popping sight of a naked, musclebound Adonis parading through the halls with two sluts slung over either shoulder and a third impaled on his giant cock as he searched for more girls to fuck. More often than not, he would invite the customer's companion to join him, leaving the jealous john in search of a refund. Some bordellos tried to confine him to the upper floor but just the deafening noise of his debauchery proved unsettling. Even the coldest courtesan had to feign a modicum of enthusiasm with a paying customer but the racket of multiple females enjoying real orgasms struck a humbling contrast to the sexual fumblings of an amateur amoroso.

Madame Astoria got a perverse thrill out of frustrating the rake's urge to pleasure her. He probably thought she would be an easy mark. Why would a legendary playboy have taken a mature woman with so many younger, prettier hussies at his beck and call? She heard the stories and, more likely than not, they were true. He was just as big as her girlfriends claimed. And so would be the price of seduction. An ordinary gigolo would just take a payment and leave. But Samson would not leave. Not until he screwed every girl employed in her establishment. Madame resented his cavalier attitude. No man would get the best of her!

After a solid hour of pounding her, Samson slowed his rut to converse with his lover. He had thawed quite a few frigid frauen in his time but madam had quite a tough pussy to crack.

"What's the problem, lady?" he whispered into her ear. "Don't you understand you're getting fucked by Samson?"

She looked away in contempt.

"Are you not into guys? I have a lot of girlfriends that would be happy to join us if you liked that kind of thing."

"What do you want?" she sneered finally.

"Like I told you, I just need a place to sleep tonight. I haven't slept in a bed for three days!"

"What else? You could have chosen a nicer establishment."

Actually, Samson did not have so many options. He burnt every other brothel in town. The rogue suddenly realized the source of her concern. He hadn't lied. All he wanted was a warm bed and a warm pussy at that moment.

"I just want you to let go," he murmured. "Don't be afraid. Sure, I could have taken any woman this afternoon but, right now, you arethat woman."

The Lothario's words just struck the perfect balance between tenderness and truth.

Madame accepted a tentative kiss on the lips, a privilege seldom granted to customers. Assured he could take liberties, Samson leaned down and started to french his voluptuous courtesan while not missing a single love beat in the process. Madame was so excited that she did not really kiss back but merely let her jaws hang open so that Samson could have his way with her gaping maw. Samson extended his tongue and pumped it in and out of her mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Jesus Christ!" she thought. The ladykiller must have had a nine-inch tongue. It was bigger than most cocks! Had he not been fucking her to cross-eyed oblivion with his huge dick already, she would have demanded cunnilingus on the spot.

There was complete silence in the bedroom as they kissed. The smell of sex hung over the bed as thick as fog. Madame lie frozen on her back, a cry of anguish and pleasure contorting the features of her face as the tension built in her loins. Every muscle in her body wound tight as Samson's massive cock hovered outside her pussy like a mighty anaconda of lust, poised to strike its prey. She lay open and prone underneath him, flesh goosepimpled and trembling. Waves of pleasure were washing over her and her mind floated in a sea of dizziness. The room spun in dark circles as the ladykiller plunged his rod back inside once more.

"No," she thought as she tried to hold back the flood. "Never!"

But she knew it was too late. It began small, like a tiny trickle, and the trickle became a flow, gushing through her body. The orgasm shook her like a long, slow volcanic eruption. It started as he slowly drove his spike between her thighs and continued in one long, excruciating climax as he sank deeper and deeper and deeper into her body. Her toes curled, her hips jerked into the air as she convulsed. Tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. Her head tipped back and her mouth stretched wide open until her gritting teeth were plain to see. She could feel his thundering prick deep in her bones.

Her scream was breathless and absolute and loud as any scream Samson had ever summoned from a maiden. And before she had time to catch her breath another one hit her even harder. His iron grip of pleasure seized her body, her mind, and perhaps her very fate.

"Harder, Samson! Make me come!" she blurted out spontaneously. "It's free for you. Real men don't have to pay for it. Just keep fucking me, you son of a bitch!"

Another explosion began to build -- a huge one. And, this time, the fuse seemed to burn forever. The prelude just grew and grew until blood thudded her ears and the room began to spin. The climax felt different from anything she had ever known, growing so tremendous that it scared her. At first, Madame felt only the vague outline of it, a deep tremor that rattled her bones. But she knew that it would ravage her like a hurricane. Samson wanted just that. She knew it with grim certainty. The bodice-ripper wanted her total submission and nothing less would satisfy his rapacious lust.

Madame wanted to resist him but she also wanted to give in. As they continued to fuck, something in her body snapped, flinging off her last bind of inhibition. The tension in her groin seemed to melt, her legs relaxed and spread a little wider, her mouth softened slightly, her chest stopped fluttering and settled into a steady heaving. She felt herself open like a flower, a willing vessel for his masculine abundance.

The seasoned harlot let out a small gurgled moan as she felt the tiniest hint of that dreaded climax emerge like the tail of a leviathan skimming the surface of the sea. Madame dared not breathe. She never felt so vulnerable or helpless. Her emotions were in complete turmoil as his love python plunged deeper and deeper into her molten core. Through clouded eyes, the lustlorn lass gazed into his smoldering visage. He wore an evil grin, knowing full well she could not resist him.

The huge invader began to push against her cervix. Samson had not pressed the issue previously but now he wanted her womb. The conquest would be achieved by stealth. Because his love muscle stretched her sheathe almost twofold, it could register even the slightest vaginal twitch or spasm. His sex organ was also a sense organ, allowing him to probe female sexual response to a very precise degree. Even if a girl had found herself in the unimaginable situation of faking an orgasm with Samson, he would not have been fooled. The giant-cocked gigolo could detect gynecological phenomena unknown to even the woman herself. Accordingly, he felt a series of deep pelvic contractions that foreshadowed a monster cum. Samson knocked his knob against the door to her uterus, riding the rhythm of her contractions, synchronizing them with his little love shoves. The harmonization of movements caused the contractions to spread throughout her vaginal cavity. The sexual prodigy had decoded her body language and was now using it for his own ends.

"Nnn...Uhh" she grunted with clenched teeth. The love champion was about to win the marathon.

Her back was arched, her neck bent back so that her weight rested equally on her ass and on her head. Her breasts pointed upward and back, the ripe nipples hardening into thorns. Madame cupped her breasts and pinched the blood-charged spikes in astonishment. No man ever had stiffened her nipples like that.

The orgasm that was buried within her, beneath the countless layers of locks and safeguards in the most intimate part of her soul, began to emerge. She was passing the point of no return. The temptation of bliss led her to the abyss like a dark magnet. The closer she got, the harder she felt the pull.

"Oh.. my... God.... Please....You're killing me..."

"Please....."

"God..yes..it's so good..." she gasped between her teeth.

Her hips surged and rolled, fucking him back. Slowly, ever so slowly, her hands slid from her breasts, up, up past her lips, past her hair and stretched over her head, locking together in a show of submission. With a thrust strong enough to drive the air from her lungs, Samson connected with the very deepest part of her body and soul.

"Please.....YES! YES! OH MY GOD, YES!"

In one instant she made the decision. She wanted to get fucked with everything that was coming to her. She wanted to explode from the feeling. The muscles of her groin clamped down on his rod, crushing it with all her might, but Samson's hard, tumescent flesh was completely unyielding and the mighty sceptre forged ahead. He now occupied her womb.

"OH..FUCK ME! TAKE ME! FUCK..FUCK...PLEASE..." her voice was rising in pitch, ringing out like a bell.

Samson started drilling her, grinding his powerful hips against her completely open body. The orgasm that she feared, the one she was building towards, racing towards, rose like a tremendous steaming mountain rising out of the foaming sea.

"DEEPER! Grrrg.....Oh GOD...Nnnt...DEEPER!" she screamed.

Samson felt his lower body strain pleasurably. The master lover had restrained himself for over an hour but now he could indulge himself. He shoved every last bit of his colossal prick into her incredibly stretched pussy and clutched the bedposts to brace himself for the coming deluge. Soon, the manbeast began to shake and shudder with a ferocious intensity. Chills and thrills of unimaginable strength were coursing up and down his clenched body.

"Samson is coming!" he yelled as his love cannon blasted an incredibly long, thick cord of spunk into her inner depths. Madame shuddered in response with another earthshaking orgasm. She had never had a man shoot his load so deep into her body. His discharge was enormous and soon she felt the overflow leak out of her pussy. Yet Samson's had only begun to come. His climax became stronger with each blast of cockseed, his grunts louder, his sperm hotter, his dick bigger. And when his crescendo finally drew to a close, instead of deflating, his tool became even harder than before.

"You didn't think I had finished with you, my dear," he whispered with a devilish grin.

Seconds later, Madame was getting reamed again. Samson was pounding her into the bed, leaning forward so their bodies moved together in one undulating wave. Another cataclysmic orgasm loomed above her, overshadowing light and day. She realized with shock that the last climax had only been the second of many. The best was yet to come. As she saw the magnitude of its true proportions, she was gripped with an urge to step back, to flee from the moment, to exist in any moment but the one she was in.

"Please GOD STOPFM....MRFNNT....MRRFNNT!!!" she screamed but the rogue cut off her whining by curling his fingers into her mouth. Madame tried to bite down on them but it was too late. She knew she was going over the edge.

"MMMFFT!!!!!" she cried, as he drove his club inside her.

"MMMFFFT!!!!!" she cried again into his fingers as he withdrew and thrust forward once more.

It was going to happen and she couldn't stop it. She felt her body imploding, sucking in vast amounts of energy. Every particle of her being compressed into a tiny dot as his cock relentlessly pumped in and out of her with unbelievable speed. At the very peak, when her entire being was teetering over the edge, Samson gave a savage roar and unleashed a powerful bolt of spunk that struck her G-spot dead center.

Madame began to shake ominously. A second later, she screamed with every muscle of her body, exhaling everything, pushing out everything, oozing sweat, come, and tears. In that moment, she stopped seeing, stopped thinking, stopped everything. She stayed like that, her body seized in agonized joy, for an eternity. Then her body went limp. Her eyes were open but they had gone completely blank.

When Madame finally came to, she just stared up at him in awe. Like all the ladies claimed, Samson was like no other. She never knew a man who fucked with such intensity, passion and conviction. He had loved her as she had never been loved before.

Madame broke into tears of joy and gratitude. She almost had forgotten how it felt to be a woman. But Samson did not try to comfort her with words. It was not a time for talk. Instead, he fucked her for another hour until she rolled off of him in total exhaustion. The wenchmaster might have continued but he made his point, 37 times to be exact.

Madame stayed by his side for a long time. He was her lover, not a customer to be sent away. She caressed his gigantic muscles and dandled his limp yet heavy organ in deep fascination, kissing it reverently and licking away every drop of sperm with her tongue. Samson's organ began to grow once more and, within seconds, it leapt straight into the air as engorged and erect as a cock could get.

Madame grasped the base of his shaft with the both hands and slid down his pole with ease. Having mounted him, she swiftly rode him to another violent climax and screamed out his name at the top of her lungs. But Samson did not answer. He had dozed off. Despite Madame's inspiring performance, he had not slept for several days and not even a screaming wench could keep him awake forever. Fortunately, he usually fell asleep with an erection in the company of a lady, and many of those ladies happily availed themselves of his tumescent condition. The rogue snored loudly with a big grin on his face, dreaming of all the women he planned to fuck in Amstelland that week.