With this, he flung himself down on his back beside her, and, cupping her trembling chin in his scrawny hand, hissed, “Do you kneel over me and put your sweet red lips to my prick and draw forth the essence I have saved up so long for you, which was better destined for your adorable little cunt but which some demonaical force has balked.”
I was almost inclined to bite him a third time at such an insult, for I am not and never have been leagued with the Lord of Evil, even though it may be related by some misguided scholars that a plague of fleas was sent to pester Job as one of his many trials.
“Oh—M'sieu, I—I do not quite understand what it is you would have me do,” the tender maiden stammered, but I saw the telltale suffusion of her blushes spread to her dainty little ears and soft pulsing throat.
“Morbleu, but you cannot be such an innocent,” he growled. Then, pointing to his dwindled weapon, he explicitly commanded: “You will take my cock between your lips and suck me till my juices are drawn out. There, do you at last comprehend me, my pigeon?”
“Ohh! How—how can you ask me to perform such a vile task?” Laurette gasped.
“Because, you maddening creature, you must satisfy me one way or another tonight, and since ill chance prevents my thrusting my cock into your cunny, your mouth must substitute. Obey me, or I swear I shall have Hercule flog you smartly!”
“Ohh, heavens!” Laurette sobbed, “I am helpless, sir, I cannot resist such brute force. V—very well, then, I—I will try to obey you, but it will make me faint, I am sure!”
“Nonsense, it did not make Desiree faint,” he panted, and crawled over her, turning himself so that his loins were directly over her scarlet, tear-stained face, while he in turn faced the quaking, clenching columns of her milky round thighs and the adorable, golden thatched nook which they sequestered. Lowering himself, he brushed the tip of her dainty nose with the wrinkled, drooping head of his cock, and gasped, “Quickly, open your lips and pay homage to your husband!”
Laurette sighed woefully as she resigned herself. I could not read her virgin mind, and yet I was sure that she was weighing the relatively less odious compliance of performing fellatio on him as against the umbrage of submitting to the shattering of her maiden seal by his senile cock. At least in this way, she would cherish her virginity for her true lover, Pierre Larrieu, and still be faithful to him even as a bride of this elderly and detestable vintner.
So, keeping her eyes tightly closed, she reluctantly opened her rosy lips and absorbed the dwarfed meatus of her senile husband, who at once uttered a cry of ecstasy: “Ahhh, that is heavenly, my little pigeon! Now suck it gently and slowly, and entwine your soft fingers over my thighs—yes, that's it—ohh, I am in a seventh heaven of bliss incarnate! And you will discover, my white-skinned beauty, that in due time I shall be able to fuck your cunny as it merits, once you and I are intimately acquainted with each other, as true spouse and consort should always be!”
Her beautiful shapely thighs were tightly clutched together to deny him the least access, but Monsieur Claude Villers did not have any generous impulses in his honor of lust, and so he did not even try to caress her cunny with his fingers, much less gamahuch her as reward for her sweet oral ministrations. I liked him less and less with each passing moment, and I confess that the two bites I had taken granted me very little blood and less nourishment, he being dried-up and inconsequential as regards provender for me just as he was in bringing fruition to the loins of this sweet virgin who lay naked in her hose upon his lordly bed.
His groans and squirmings attested, however, to his approach to climax; I did not know whether gentle Laurette was sufficiently endowed by her female intuition to be aware of this imminent gush of viscous spunk, but I considered its emission into so fair an orifice far more than the senile patron deserved.
So, just as his rolling eyes and heaving chest and flanks demonstrated the very imminence of his little moment, I hopped from the pillow to the middle of his shaft and inflicted my third and sharpest bite, which caused him to utter a frenzied cry, roll off the startled naked girl, and, clapping both hands to his throbbing cock, drench his own bony fingers with the defiling spunk instead of jetting it into Laurette's still virgin mouth.
Defeated and undone, Monsieur Claude Villiers sulkily chose to find repose now, and lay beside the apprehensive maiden, who, however, had nothing more to fear from him this night. For presently his snores told her as they did me that she was still an untarnished bride. Yet her dulcet sighs and wrigglings for the rest of the night suggested that in her radiant dreams, Pierre Larrieu was accomplishing that which her own husband had not done.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After a week, Laurette's maidenhead was still intact. I was a witness to the two more futile attempts which Monsieur Claude Villiers essayed against the golden haired maiden's virtue. The first of these followed on the ensuing night after her marriage, and it took a comic turn very much like that which I have already described to my readers. The old fool had fortified himself with some powerful cognac after dinner, having bidden his bride await him in the nuptial chamber while he sat at his ease in his salon smoking a good cigar and sipping the fiery spirits. Just to make certain that he would be adequate this time, indeed, he actually opened his trousers and began to play with his dwindled organ so as to bring it to a state of competence before entering the bridal chamber.
Laurette had docilely disrobed and awaited him, meek as a sacrificial lamb, upon that great bed. This time, however, she had found a nightshift evidently worn by one or another of the patron's many pro tern mistresses which fitted her passably well. When he entered, he frowned to see that her white flesh was not at once displayed in all its gleaming beauty, for that would have been a further stimulant to his lustfulness. But, resolutely determined to breach the walls of the thus far impregnable castle of her chastity, he undressed himself and once again stood ludicrously bony-naked before the tender maiden. Once again he hastened to clamber upon her and to rub himself against her grudgingly-yielded loins. I waited nearby to determine whether again to make him fall short of the mark, but this time I did not need to. His excitement was so great in feeling the sweet silken-fronded friction of her cunny hairs against his throbbing yet still meager lance that he shot his bolt, spattering her round sweet belly, before he could even lodge the head of his tool between the pouting soft pink lips of her Venus.
So, once again his cock had recourse to her mouth, under threat of a sound flogging. And once again the farcical comedy went to its very end, with Laurette grimacing and closing her eyes and allowing her rosy lips to take hold of his detestable weapon. But work on it as she would, and her performance was somewhat longer this time because of his angry insistence, she could not succeed in making him reach the state of rigidity that was desired. He had to lie beside her and fall asleep and content himself with his scurrilous dreams.
The second attempt was made four days later, and this time the old fool gave her a stern order to await him naked as the day she was born upon the nuptial bed. When he entered, he carried with him some lengths of felt cord which he proceeded to wrap around her wrists and ankles and fix them to the bedposts, thereby spread-eagling her in the most vulnerable and lascivious way conceivable.
Laurette began to weep and to entreat him not to ravage her by force and against her will, for that way, she quavered, would lead to her detesting him and not at all respecting his husbandly status. But this appeal was lost on deaf ears as the patron greedily mounted the huge bed and knelt between poor Laurette's straining, yawning thighs. His hands this time lasciviously roved over her defenseless body, pinching her breasts and belly and hips and thighs till she squealed and squirmed. At least he managed a kind of half-potency and made haste to fling himself down upon her, his scrawny chest flattening her shuddering, milky bubbies and his thin dry lips stifling the cry that rose from her sweet, rosy mouth.