Guy de Maupassant - The Colonel's Nieces

The people of the inn, sensing a windfall, did their best to make the travelers as comfortable as possible and, after a good dinner, taken with a bottle of wine, Florentine's spirits were soon re-animated. The evening flew by quickly, even more so than the ones at St. Gildas.

By nine o'clock they were sitting in front of the cozy fireplace, talking about a thousand different little things. First their conversation was innocent, but soon those little remarks and intimacies under which the little devil god Cupid hides became more and more pronounced. Florentine was very glad that her husband believed her to be in the care of Madame Briquart. Even though Gordon was a mere child, as she told herself, George might not have been entirely pleased with the set-up.

Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted them, “Sir, Madame, your room is ready. You can go upstairs now. The blankets are warm and the mattress is soft. Anyway, two young people like you won't be cold for long when you are together.”

The simple remark paralyzed Florentine and excited Gordon who, not losing his presence of mind, whispered in her ear, “Don't give us away. Don't be afraid, I am a gentleman.”

But these words did not quiet down Florentine's misgivings. “He is a mere child,” she kept telling herself. Nevertheless, she was not very convinced.

“If you tell him, he's going to throw us out in the cold,” Gordon warned her, “and that won't be funny at all!”

It was true. Florentine saw that she had no choice, and she followed the young man upstairs without further protest. When they arrived in the room, they looked at each other and began to laugh.

“Well… you get into the bed, and I spend the night in this chair.”

“Oh no… that is terribly uncomfortable and cold. I couldn't let you do that! Just get out of the room for a few minutes and then come back.”

Gordon left the room and was back within five minutes. He was flushed in the face and threw a bold and curious glance in the direction of the bed. Florentine lay there, her head resting on the pillow, her golden tresses flowing. The covers outlined her lovely body.

Gordon was shivering. Ideas, ideas that his mother had never given him, were bubbling around in his head.

“No,” he said to himself, “no, I will not do that. She is under my protection and I cannot make use of this opportunity. And yet…”

He sat down upon the best chair and watched Florentine like a faithful dog. Within ten minutes his teeth were chattering and, despite his agitation, he was cold as an icicle.

Florentine felt sorry for him. “My God, my little Gordon,” she said, “you are very brave, but you will catch your death on that chair. Honi soit qui mal y pense… come over here and sleep next to me. Completely dressed, of course,” she added hastily.

When he heard those sweet words, Cherub thought he would faint.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” asked Madame Vaudrez.

“I'm frozen.”

“Go get a warm water bottle, and come warm yourself up.”

It didn't take long to find one, and with chaste precautions the young man slid it under Florentine's feet. He shivered voluptuously, but, buttoning up his coat, he stretched out rigidly next to his companion. She began to laugh.

“What do you think my husband would say if he saw us?”

“He would probably not like it,” said the boy who, despite the miserable cold outside, was beginning to get pretty warm.

Neither one of them could sleep and they began to talk again. Suddenly, Gordon could no longer contain himself. He embraced Florentine and told her. “I cannot resist any longer, I think I am in love with you.”

“Oho, my little baby, what's getting into your mind?” Florentine asked, trying to be lighthearted.

“You call me a little baby, but it is a little baby who loves to go back to his mother's breast.”

“Really? And what about my husband?”

Poor Cherub. Huge beads of perspiration appeared upon his forehead and his beautifully formed nostrils flared like those of a snorting bull. Florentine was so beautiful, and Gordon was a newcomer. But there are things which one knows instinctively, because his charming neighbor called out suddenly:

“Good God, Gordon, stop it! You are tickling me!”

But he did not stop.

“What do you think you are doing!”

“It means I adore you!”

“And what does that prove?”

“I would like you to be the first person I make love to.”

“Your virginity? You are offering it to me? That's sweet of you. But… haven't you ever…? Oh, come on, tell me about your little affairs!”

“No, no… I swear. I have never touched a woman like I touch you. Either my mother, or one of my tutors is always there.”

“Oh, what a horrible situation. Now that you have told me this, I cannot keep you any longer in my arms. It's your own fault that you have to freeze. But we must be good. What you have in mind is terribly evil, Gordon. I am a married woman! It's… it's terrible!”

“Oh, no! It's very nice, and I love you!”

“Scoundrel! Go away!”

Florentine tried to push him out of the bed, but she must have made the wrong calculation, because instead of on the floor, Gordon wound up in the middle of the bed.

“Oh, you rascal… stop monkeying around! Gordon, get out of the bed!”

Actually, Florentine was surprised when Gordon instantly obeyed. He got up and quietly began to unbutton his pants. Suddenly, Florentine let out a little cry of surprise. “Stop… stop it, I tell you… Baby, I am really beginning to get mad. Your virginity, you say… really, the idea is very amusing, and if I were not a decent woman, we could… but I love my husband. Come on… don't… oh, you little devil… stop it! Don't… don't tickle me… you are tickling me! I'll tell your mother!”

But Gordon continued to tickle her, and the pleasant stimulation made the young woman giggle nervously. Soon her giggling turned into a stifled sigh.

Cherub took full advantage of her changing mood and Florentine was incapable of refusing the offering he made her. She had to admit to herself that she no longer just permitted Gordon his little games, but that she was fully cooperating. And she also did not fail to notice a remarkable difference between this feeling of passion and the one she was used to. Her resistance lessened and the happy Gordon received full pardon.

A first time… a second… a third…

even a fourth! Suddenly, in a flash, Florentine understood. Little Baby was not offering at the doorstep. His fourth climax was as strong as the first, and Florentine could feel the hot liquid squirt deep inside her belly. It was so entirely different from her husband's feeble drippings that she suddenly realized she would never have any children by George.

She thought, “In this world, faith is our only salvation. I'll conserve that of my husband and do my best to make him a happy father, even if it has to be without his participation.”

And, to give joy to her dearly beloved husband, Florentine overwhelmed the boy with her attention. Gordon showed himself extremely prodigal and the night, and that next day, and the night that followed were very well employed.

The snowfall had stopped. The train could get through to Paris, and Gordon, according to his mother's instructions, delivered the young wife at her aunt's home. The perfect gentleman.

Thereupon, Florentine went with her aunt to Charmettes, where she rejoined her husband.

Six months later the doctor told Monsieur Vaudrez, who was concerned about his wife's health, “Don't worry, my dear friend. Another three months, and the final crisis will produce a beautiful baby.”

“Doctor, do you really think so?”

“I not only think so… I am certain of it. The vacation I prescribed for you did you a lot of good, my friend. You are still a very healthy man. I wish you a boy.”