Anonymous - The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 2

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.

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.

I believed then that Laurette was in the most terrible danger of all, but again I had reckoned without the intervention of demanding nature. So keen had been his anticipation of pillaging her treasure in this fettered and helpless condition that he again ejaculated his seed before it could reach inside her matrix. Just as the tip of his cock prodded between the tender lips of Laurette's virgin cunny, his eyes rolled in his head and his face turned a fiery red and this time his premature burst stickied her inner thighs and lower belly.

She was once again constrained to service him with her mouth, but the effort was again useless so far as rendering him potent again was concerned. Grumpily he flung himself down beside her without even bothering to release her bonds, and so fell asleep, ignoble and selfish wretch that he was.

During the interim between those two occasions when Monsieur Villiers sought to have sexual congress with his tender young bride, I made my way back to the little cottage of the Widow Bernard on one evening and to the rectory of Pere Mourier on another occasion. As it chanced, the fat French priest had been summoned to the parish of Jardineannot, about a dozen kilometers to the west, to perform the funeral service for a dear old friend. As a consequence Father Lawrence, telling his buxom landlady that he had been requested to substitute for Pere Mourier in the event that the villagers of Languecuisse might need spiritual consolation during the latter's absence, made a nocturnal visit to the little rectory. There he found the beautiful Amazonian housekeeper Desiree alone and ecstatically eager to give him another proof of her burning devotion. She prepared a tasty collation for him, even to a bottle of Pere Mourier's best wine, and the two of them ate and drank with gusto. When they had finished, he sighed with repletion and avowed that he would not be able to move for hours after so filling a repast.

The beautiful chestnut haired widow roguishly told him that she would not disturb him for all the world, yet his indolence need not impair their enjoying the pleasures of Cythera. As he leaned back in the straight-backed chair, Desiree divested herself of her skirt and this time of her drawers also, for she had not anticipated the delightful visit of the virile English ecclesiast. Next, lofting his cassock and lowering his drawers, she seated herself with her back to him, her legs straddling over his, and reaching between her boldly yawning thighs, took hold of his already prodigiously excited spear and drew it towards her furry niche. Her sighs and gasps of delight pronounced, to express her words, the unusually stimulating angle of incidence with which his cock rasped against the volutes of her inner channel, granting her indescribable pleasure. By dint of squirming about and arching gently and then lowering herself, she was able to bring them both to a simultaneous fruition of erotic rapture.

And when they had both rested from this delightful pursuit of carnal gratification, she led him into the bedroom of Pere Mourier, and there, Eve-naked as he was Adam-unclothed, did renew with fiery vigor and enthusiasm their fleshly union. I witnessed two exciting bouts, the first of which took place with Father Lawrence firmly mounted over his beautiful and passionate steed, whereas the second foray was accomplished with Desiree kneeling on all fours and the apparently tireless English holy man behind her and foraging his sturdy weapon deep within her cunny.

On the other occasion, Father Lawrence showed that he was not at all unmindful of the debt he owed the Widow Bernard for her tender hospitality. He crept into her bedchamber after she had gone to sleep, only to find her tossing and turning restlessly and murmuring incoherent words. Drawing off the thin sheets, for it was another warm night, he tickled the lips of her cunny and her clitoris as well till he wakened her. Thus exquisitely attended, she uttered a cry of joy and held out her arms to him. He possessed her lingeringly. Midway through their juncture, he obliged her to draw her knees up against her sumptuous bosom, and then, taking hold of the backs of her knees, directed himself deeply into her moist and quaking love-channel.