I pitied Laurette with all my heart as I watched her timidly approach the grotesquely naked, grinning old vintner. As her rounded, milky arms hesitantly wound themselves about his withered neck, I caught sight of the glorious firm rondures of her virgin bosom, the soft coral darts of her sweet nipples. To think that such charms must be sacrificed upon so unworthy an altar was odious indeed; Monsieur Claude Villiers was old enough to be, not Laurette's father, but her grandfather. It was, this intended mating, somewhat akin to incest. And even as her milky teaties shudderingly pressed against his shrunken chest, his dwindled cock seemed to pay not the least tribute to such voluptuous young beauty.
“How soft and sweet you are, my beautiful pigeon,” he panted as his hands tremblingly roved over her bare, smooth satiny white back and thence to the succulent hemisphere of her enticing virgin backside, which I had already seen naked under the scourge of Pere Mourier. “You can't know how I've longed to see and feel your nakedness, Laurette! When the good father told me that you were taken with a seizure the night of the contest, I grieved in my dire loneliness. I felt such a loss that I very nearly summoned that bold jade, the Widow Desiree, to console me. So would I have done had I not been told by your good father confessor that he had only just that day engaged her as his own housekeeper.”
I liked this old man less and less after that bragging speech of his, which was in the worst possible taste. I comprehended his motive, however; he was fearful for his own lack of cocksmanship, and now, confronted by so voluptuous a beauty, was desirous of impressing on her innocent mind the belief that he was a vaunted lover to whose bedchamber would come the most passionate wenches in Languecuisse. I vowed to myself to protect Laurette's tender maidenhead to the utmost, so far as it was within my tiny powers.
“S—sir,” Laurette quavered, “please I—let me go this first night. I… I promise I will try my best to be a faithful wife to you, but I am so lonely and despondent at being separated from my dear parents that I cannot find it in my heart to grant you that which you desire of me.”
Monsieur Claude Villiers sniggered at this poetic and poignant declaration. His bony fingers had by now taken hold of the poutingly rounded hemispheres of Laurette's resilient, virgin backside, and he was in no way desirous of relinquishing his fair prize. “Nay, nay, my sweet pigeon, I will be both father and mother to you tonight. And somewhat more, eh, eh, eh!” Then, his face flushed and hardening with angry desire, he commended, “Now I wish to see you without your drawers on, my beauty! All that you possess is now mine, to see, to feel, to caress as I desire! Be quick now!”
Tears ran down Laurette's milky cheeks as she recoiled, her arms once again hiding her panting naked bosom. “Oh, sir, I know I must obey you, but will you not have pity on my unhappiness and at least blow out the candles? I—I will kiss you as sweetly as I can, and sleep beside you, but give me a few days to accustom myself to your wants of me, I beg you humbly!”
Such a supplication, needless to say, only inflamed the old lecher all the more. He seized her by a wrist and pulled her towards the huge, ornate bed, gasping, “You shall do more than sleep, my girl! You belong to me, every part of you, and I mean to enjoy my possession! I mean to fuck you gloriously this night!”
Thereupon, he flung her down onto the bed, and grabbing at the hem of her thin drawers, whisked them off as one would skin a rabbit, flung the offending garment to the floor, and beautiful milky skinned, golden haired Laurette was naked save for her hose and shoes. These last he too removed and then stood looking down at her, eyes shining pinpoints of infamous licentiousness, while the tender maiden, bursting into tears, clapped one soft hand over her virgin cunt hole and with the other arm did her best to hide the panting round turrets of her maiden teaties. “Ohh, have mercy, M'sieu Villiers,” she whimpered.
He clambered into bed beside her, and the sweet virgin promptly rolled onto one side to evade him, turning her beautifully sculptured, satiny back and luscious velvety bottom cheeks to him. Panting with lust, the patron cuddled up to her spoon-fashion, his right hand gliding up her thigh and over to the golden furred mound of her maiden cunny, which she tried to protect by clamping her soft trembling little palm over that diadem of chastity. Excited by the satiny feel of her warm, quivering naked flesh, the elderly reprobate began to rub his dwindled cock against the plump hemispheres of Laurette's shivering bare bottom. I saw Laurette's eyes close and a grimace of disgust contort her heartshaped, sweet face.
“You are angering me, girl, with your obstinacy,” he warned. “Take care that I do not give you a sound thrashing to teach you your duties to your husband!”
“Oh, have pity, sir,” Laurette stammered, huddling herself with all her muscular exertion and frantically preventing his groping fingers from reaching the sacrosanct niche of her maiden cunt hole. “You—you must give me time to know what you wish of me—ohh, do not force me implore you, if you wish me to have the least affection for you!”
But the friction of her voluptuous, naked bottom against his emaciated weapon had wrought a veritable miracle; Monsieur Claude Villiers was now in a state of tolerable erection. His cock was not much longer than five inches, and the long, thin head seemed to droop slightly, yet I could see by the spasmodic jerkings of his gnarled balls that he was in a fair condition of erotic excitement.
As she showed no sign of turning towards him, but continued to huddle herself in almost a foetal pose, one arm pressed over her tumultuously swelling titties, the other little hand clamped tightly over the plump mound of her cunt, the patron cast compassion to the four winds and with an angry imprecation, seized her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her onto her back. Then, feverishly panting with exertion, he flung himself down over her, kneeing apart her palpitating thighs and rubbing the drooping head of his meatus against the furry, golden ringlets which now provided her sole defense against his intended rape. Laurette, with a cry of alarm, tried to push at him with her soft little hands, but she was at an obvious disadvantage because he had managed to fit himself into her saddle.
It was time for me to lend my aid to this beleaguered virgin. Watching my chance, I hopped from the counterpane—he had not even bothered to turn down the sheets in his inopportune fury for the conquest of her sweet maiden cunt hole—and nimbly leaped between their bodies just as poor Laurette managed to wriggle slightly out from under her elderly ravisher. I crawled onto his left testicle, and applied my proboscis. He uttered a shrill cry of pain, for I had bitten deeply, and rolled off the sobbing, naked maiden, rubbing his hurt; I, of course, foreseeing this, had already left him for a place of greater safety.
My intervention had come at an excellent moment; already his cock was flaccid and completely drooping between his shriveled, bony thighs. He glared at Laurette, who shrank back on the great bed, her blue eyes blinded by tears, as if it were entirely her fault that he was put temporarily hors de concours.
“V'entre-Saint-Gris!” he swore malevolently, still rubbing his throbbing testicle, “I am out of patience with your silly tears and chaste airs, my pigeon! Do you wish me to summon my overseer Hercule and apply the switch to your impertinent backside and then hold you down while I take my rights?”
“Oh, no, no, sir, do not treat me so cruelly! I am all alone in the world and so ashamed! Oh, be kind, M'sieu Villiers,” she whimpered.
“I have but to reach my hand to the bellrope beside the bed,” he warned, gesturing to it with his free hand, “and I will do so this moment unless you submit yourself docilely.” He made a gesture towards it, and Laurette uttered a woebegone cry: “Oh, stop! I—I will submit!”
“That's better,” he growled, his chest heaving with the effect of this heated struggle for the jewel of that soft, golden thatched jewel which hid between Laurette's milky, rounded thighs. “Then pillow your head on your soft arms, my pigeon, spread your thighs lovingly, and prepare to receive me!”
Closing her eyes and turning her face to one side, poor little Laurette reluctantly obeyed. Licking his lips again, the vile old lecher crawled upon her trembling milky-skinned nakedness; ugh, it was like seeing some bloodsucking leech profane a lily! His bony fingers set to work pinching and prodding her shuddering bare bubbies, and his thin dry lips nuzzled the valley between those round proud young globes, whilst he rasped his dormant cock against the furry fronds of her maiden mount in an effort to restore himself to that happy if accidental vigor with which he had begun the seance.
His mouth now besieged the soft coral pap of one beautiful, shuddering teatie and sucked it, as if hoping that by this means he might draw nourishment enow to fortify his puerile virility. Great tears edged from under Laurette's eyelids at this desecration.
Now his bony fingers reached under Laurette's squirming backside and gouged the milky succulent young flesh as he hastened his obscene grinding of limpened cock against the silky pussy fur of his virginal bride in a frantic effort to become adequate for her defloration. The charming girl had turned her face to one side, and the cords of her soft round neck were taut and standing out against the milky-white skin as evidence of her pathetic
