The Belvedere.

Loss of Innocence, indeed.

“Open up the blanket to the warmth, sit forward, take advantage of it.” What he said made sense to her. “Though I know that must be hard to do in such strange company after what I did, and the way I am. I cannot undo that, no matter how much I would like to.”

Yes, a typical man. Apologize after the damage had been done. Reassure her with all of the usual words; lull her into a false sense of being safe, and then continue with the onslaught. It almost did not matter whether or not she believed what he was telling her. He could not have seen or touched any more of her than he already had. She could not be any more naked than she was, and neither could he. She was also not as warm as she would have liked to be, wrapped up in a damp blanket.

He persisted, never taking no, or her resistance as an answer. She gave in, under the gentle pressure from his hands, and opened the blanket from her, and then moved her legs, as he insisted she do. He was looking, all of the time, into her blushing face and nowhere else, fortunately.

She was still alive. She knew that now. Alive and in a different hell, and with a different devil than the one she had feared. One, much more gentle but likely to be no less damaging to her. She felt that she was blushing all over.

When he saw that she would relax more than she had, but with her still not entirely at ease with what he wanted, he stood back from her again, seeing that she would sit as he had left her, though she was not comfortable doing so.

He was then able to see better to their clothing and to bring more wood closer to the fire, conscious that she watched him as he moved about, as he would have liked to have been watching her. She noticed that he often looked at her, but never for long, so as not to alarm her again over what he could easily see of her. Did that part of his ever get any smaller? Or did it just keep growing?

He seemed worried for her.

He checked on their clothing to make sure it would not scorch, but remained turned away from her, and then made up the fire. Was he embarrassed by his own condition? Unlikely.

When he had done all that he could, to see to their ongoing comfort, he turned and came back to sit beside her. He had lost any concern over her seeing him the way he was. That was enough to make her nervous about his intentions. He was much bigger than on any statue. Could it have been her imagination playing tricks on her earlier when she had seen him even bigger?

She began to realize that his need for warmth was as great as hers, and now was no time to be like her father, and selfish, or paralyzed by fear. What would happen to her at this man’s hands would happen, had already happened, and there would be nothing she could do about it.

She opened up the blanket around his back, surprising him, and herself by that act. He smiled down upon her, thanked her, and then she felt his arm slide around her, touching her at her waist, and pulling her closer to him as they sat there together in front of the fire to take advantage of each other’s warmth, with their bare legs touching together. What a strange circumstance. Naked, but no longer as terrified or as shocked as she had been, she still did not know what to expect from him.

After some moments of being tense, and not sure that she had done the right thing, she realized that she must get over this distrust and her dread of… whatever she was dreading… and begin to relax.

It would not be so bad. Women the world over faced this every day, and participated, or there would never be any marriage, or children.

She began to shiver again. He turned to face her, raising his leg to the seat behind her so that she could lean back against his warm leg rather than against the cold marble. That action made the rest of him, his p***s, more obvious to her, and so close. There was no avoiding seeing that.

His aroused phallus was touching her at the side of her leg, as his arms went around her. She could also see him more clearly, as well as feel him against her. He pulled her closer into him again, one arm behind her and the other in front of her, under her breasts, but touching them with his forearm. His head rested against hers, with his warm breath flooding down over her breasts. It was exciting to feel that, just as it had been before, when he had been breathing into her…between her legs. No, she must not think like that, but her reputation…?

Reputation, be damned. It was too late for that. It had gone with her dress being removed, never mind what had happened after that.

That proud part of his was touching into her leg now, standing up from it and almost touching her breast too. Why did she always think of that, and need to know where it was, and what it was doing? She had never seen anything like this in real life before, not so large around, or so big, and it would not be ignored. No woman would ever be able to ignore that, and the threat it seemed to represent to her, though how, or in what way it was a threat she was not entirely sure. No, she knew.

Surely Adam and Eve had not faced such difficulties with each other, but had just… what? Embraced each other, coupled without hesitation, moral considerations, or restraint, to procreate, as was intimated in that biblical story? Or had they? She tried to remember her bible teachings. Morality had never been mentioned. She remembered nothing being written about that more earthy, lustful interaction between those two as they went at each other, but it must have happened many times, and probably as it would soon happen to her.

What had happened to her… the concern, the shyness and embarrassment… could be what Eve had experienced when she had first been with Adam, and that had not been wrong. Or had it? They had not been married. Thinking about it that way, gave her some small comfort.

He was so warm. She turned a little, into him, and snuggled into his chest as she put her arms around him, accidentally brushing that erect part of his by accident as she did so (yes, it had changed again and was more upright. She could see that) but quickly withdrew that hand and rested it upon her own leg. That was the safest place for it.

Should she apologize? No, she must not do that, though she could observe that phallus of his now without him seeing where she was looking. Why had she responded to him like this? Would he take it as a sign of forgiveness and encouragement? Where had she found the courage?

He had not expected that positive response from her, after the weakness he had shown with her.

Her mouth was dry, and she was in a momentary panic, but managed not to show it. What a strangely fascinating item standing up from his body. It had a pink, rounded head upon it, poking up from a tight sheath of skin, stretching it and leaving no more room to grow that she could see. How did it grow as large as it did? What caused it to do that and to pulsate as it did? She had so many questions that she could not ask.

She could not take her eyes from it.

She had heard others discussing the breeding of farm animals, and they had used that word; sheath, to describe the fleshy covering of that thing. There was a hole in the top of it. That was where he peed from, she knew that. It also moved from time to time as he seemed to tense, or relax, with the mushroom-like head seeming to swell and contract as he moved, as though it had a life of its own. Was it doing that in response to her? Or was it something he could not help doing? She almost laughed and had to close her eyes.

It was still touching at her leg and seemed to be in his way. She watched as he took hold of what seemed to be loose skin on that bag of his, his testicles, and lifted them clear of his body, and being trapped against her thigh. She found that they were no longer between them but were then resting more on top of her leg and were even more obvious. That seemed to be more comfortable for him. That other proud part was much-more obvious too, demanding attention, but from whom? Surely not from her?