Guy de Maupassant: The Colonel's Nieces

“Yes,” murmured a scarcely audible voice.

“And you promise me to be courageous? You see, darling, the first attempt at making love… ah… usually turns out to be quite a struggle.” The old lecher could barely keep from shouting with joy. “The… ah… door to paradise is closed, and I have to, though with reluctance, force my entry.” George thought he would come at the mere thought, and he did not want a repetition of what had happened that afternoon in the carriage.

Florentine mumbled something, but George did not listen. He lifted his young wife from the sofa and carried her into the other room and placed her upon the huge bed which awaited them.

He took off the rest of his clothes and with-a victorious leap stretched out next to her, his hairy legs alongside her soft, hairless ones. He reached over and caressed her soft, lightly moist belly with one hand, her breast with the other and with his lips caressed her ear. Finally, he climbed on top of her and with trembling hands attempted to separate his wife's luscious white thighs. She kept them tightly pressed together, either out of fright or because of lack of skill. Finally he succeeded in prying the reluctant thighs apart, bringing into full view the golden fleece with its half-hidden rosy lips. He told himself, “The hour of victory is at hand.”

George Vaudrez was still remarkably virile for his age, especially when his many debaucheries were taken into consideration. He could keep it up and hard for a long time. Many men his of his age would be absolutely incapable of remaining in this long state of excitation without suffering permanent damage to their hearts. But this time it was not just any bout in the bedroom-it was a decisive battle, and he discovered to his dismay that more was needed than just a great desire.

The foreplay and the explanations had taken considerable time, and the husband discovered with horror that his tool of conquest began to show signs of tiring. In short, his prick was slowly shrinking and instead of a proud erection, it showed a dangerous tendency to dangle. His victorious mood changed into one of utter helplessness which once and for all took the last vestige of an erection out of his once so virile sign of manhood. It was now totally impossible to penetrate the fortress, just after he had finally succeeded in getting it at his mercy.

“Oh, Lord, how stupid of me,” he thought. “Why on earth didn't I take that fortifying potion Albert offered me.”

“You are going about it all wrong,” his well-meaning friend had warned him.

“Good God, yes! I was wrong. Fortunately, Florentine is as innocent as a new-born babe. I'll have to trick her.”

He valiantly kept up his rubbing motions on his wife's honey-pot. Suddenly he felt the tiny tickler stand up and swell. Stifled sighs escaped from Florentine's lips. She was winding on the mattress like a snake. George kept rubbing his shriveled limp prick over his wife's treasure. But it was to no avail. He had lost all ability, and Florentine was about to reach a climax. Immediate measures were necessary. George grabbed her tickler firmly between thumb and forefinger, rolling it furiously, making little up and down motions. He felt a few tiny twitches in his tired loins, and a little drop of semen slowly leaked upon his wife's golden fleece. At the same time, Florentine arched her back, went into a spasm and uttered a loud cry. George had put his tiny sacrifice on the doorstep of her altar.

Though she was still a virgin, Florentine was no longer innocent, for she had just experienced her first sensations of carnal love.

George was furious. He was conquered by a virgin! He looked sadly down upon his wife who was half unconscious on the bed and he waited and prayed for Cupid to help him in his predicament. While waiting, he fell soundly asleep until morning.

Florentine was rather weakened by those first stirrings of love and she, too, slept soundly till the next morning. She awakened with a smile, and was bold enough to press a loving kiss upon her husband's forehead.

Marriage, after all, was not the terrible thing it was made out to be. She had rather sweet memories of her wedding night.

George did not feel completely up to par after the battle of the previous night and he had not sufficiently recovered to attempt a new bout. He preferred to use the same ruse and responding to his wife's caresses, he repeated the same little scene of the wedding night. Florentine's young body was pressed coaxingly � against him, her thighs were opened wide and his fingers became entangled in the soft fleece of her golden pussy. He lingered at the spender of pleasures and began to rub the little devil which was hidden in its red velvet grotto. The tickler began to throb slightly, Florentine arched her back, her hips began to rotate and the rosy tips of her marble-white young breasts began to jut firmly against his searching lips. He was about to penetrate the moist sanctuary when the same thing happened again. His half-erect prick grew limp, and George realized the difficulties that were awaiting him if he expected to win the final battle. It had become a matter of do or die, and George was willing to postpone the latter alternative, even if it meant to incur the ridicule of his friends.

Florentine was no longer a novice. She clearly liked her husband's ministrations and was eager to experience the same sensations of the previous night. Fortunately, the poor thing had no inkling that this not supposed to be done with a husband's fingers! She moved in perfect rhythm and was rewarded by a spasm of prolonged intensity which was more delicious than the one she had experienced the previous night.

“Tomorrow,” George told himself, “I'll take that potion, and finish this ridiculous fumbling once and for all. I've got to win! Albert may make fun of me as much as he wants, but Goddamn it! I have to fuck my wife or life isn't worth living. No more foreplay. On top of her and hump, as soon as I get my potion. I'll send my valet to Paris right after breakfast and he'd better be back with the bottle before nightfall.”

After breakfast they decided to pick up Julia and Aunt Briquart, who had promised to visit Charmettes and stay for dinner.

The carriage returned at about two that afternoon with Madame Briquart and all. To them it seemed that Florentine had been gone for ages, and they could hardly wait to see her.

Both ladies were very curious and wing to find out the details of the wedding night. The aunt was thinking about her own horrifying experiences of bygone years, and Julia was making wild guesses, pieced together from the forbidden books she had managed to read.

Both were very apprehensive, and feared for poor little Florentine. They wanted to know how the girl had withstood the crisis. Therefore, both were slightly disappointed when the young bride greeted them with a big smile, her eyes radiant. The aunt, who could so vividly remember her own wedding night, and Julia, who had read some astounding things, had expected tears and fainting spells, even though George's age had been a guarantee against the worst they had expected.

But Florentine looked radiant. Her cheeks were rosy, but her husband displayed dark rings under his eyes-which was not unusual — and he looked somewhat worn out.

Madame Briquart was quick to notice these details and it made her think. “Well, well, well.” she thought, “could it be that old George has more in him than I had anticipated?”

George fussed over his two guests, trying to make them as comfortable as possible. It was quite clear to the two women that he tried his best to avoid having them alone with his wife, but there is an old proverb which says that neither God nor the devil can prevent a woman from doing what she wants, and George was saddled with three of them! What could he do? The inevitable had to happen. He was forced to do what he had been trying so desperately to avoid. There were certain things he had to take care of, because his young wife was too inexperienced in running the household and, if there was going to be any dinner at all, George had to go out and make the arrangements with the servants.