Alain's Bedroom, The Salt Mill Tavern, Fifth And Main, Boylesten, England (1763)...
Soft warm flesh had been against equally bare flesh as Alain Remington found himself looking down into the emerald green eyes of the timid young peasant girl who had followed him to his room and into his bed on many a night following his most impressive of fisticuff bouts. His drunken lips crashed into the soft pink lips of the rather quiet and nimble lass beneath him as he found his way to thrusting his massive appendage into the moaning girl as she clung to him amid the darkness of his tavern room. They were alone as much as two ships lost at sea adrift via the waves of sensation and emotion alike as the older lad continued to infringe upon the peasant girl's long-stolen virtue. She happily accommodated him, wrapping her slender pale thighs along his own larger lean body as he towered above her grunting in the wake of the tight clenching around his huge cock and savoring the warmth he'd come to crave ever since becoming sexually active.
Cordelia's fingernails dug into the exposed flesh of his back as he thrust forward and back sliding more of his cock inside her. It was like a dance in which only they knew how to perform as their collective bodies began to jolt across the mattress as if of one accord. Alain hissed as his cock sawed in and out of the tight depths of the redhead peasant girl who had been his most favored bedwarmer. The bouncing of her round pale breasts and the intense heat from behind her gaze had made the need to fill her all the more profound as the older drunken lad continued to have his way with the willing girl.
She'd been as tight as Noreen when she'd been on the end of his cock and equally as eager despite her timid nature. Alain groaned as he felt her clenching walls amid his impressive cock squeezing him for all he was worth as he sought his pleasure in her young body and inquisitive nature respectively.
Unbeknownst to him he had taken plenty of virgins to bed when the three women of the manor and Noreen had been considered and each time they had become more or less obsessed with the sensation of riding his impressive cock until their hearts were content. Alain had been obliged to allow it given his desire to be inside them basking in their warmth and lulled by the sounds of their wanton moans filling his keen ears.
Cordelia had been no different aside from the pale pigmentation and the thick red hairs along her pelvis. The older lad was delighted in the contrast of their bodies hers being smaller and his being more along the lines of a lean athletic man when put against her thin childish frame. He had not known it, but she had often enjoyed the sound of his groans filling her ears and detailing his body's indulgence of pleasure that it gained from hers.
It was always a deep sharp gasp on his part that appeared to have been him choking on air and riding the waves of sensation when he'd been buried so deep inside her. She could feel him, the hard warmth drilling her middle as he thrust forward his lanky frame almost comical when given to expression and the tangle of limbs that had been their joined bodies were possible, quite a sight to anyone who might have witnessed them together.
Alain had taken to nibbling along the pale lass's neck taking in the scent of herbs and fresh earth from her flesh as she indulged in the taste of drink from his lips and mouth when they kissed. Cordelia had never known anyone like Alain Remington, the mysterious and troubled nobleman who had been so far away from the fancy parties and luxuries of home. She had not the faintest idea as to why he'd ventured to her neck of the woods, amid seedy brothels and foul piss-smelling taverns when he'd been capable of being so much more. Still, he'd been the only good thing in her otherwise miserable young life as it had been filled with hardship from the very beginning and the added bonus of not only being unwanted by her own parents, a harlot, and a sailor but the entirety of society as a whole due to her lack of status at birth.
The mind of the drunken lad had not been on the redhead despite her moaning beneath him and the softness of her warm body providing the much-needed distraction from his ails as she had beforehand, his heart thought broken in the wake of a most unfortunate revelation had still belonged to the lass Noreen McCrayson who had been set to marry his elder brother Casimir DuChaine.
His young heart though broken still ached for Noreen and his drunken mind was spinning with visions of their time together beneath the old grove and how she clung to him in much the same manner as the redhead below him when given to passion and driven by lust. The very image of Casimir of all people shoving his cock into the tight warmth that had always enveloped Alain's cock had caused the drunken lad a good deal of grief as unseemly tears trailed down the sallow pale cheeks of his face.
Cordelia had rightly assumed that he'd been moved by their union and clung to him in the wake of their lips crashing together. The redhead peasant girl was finding it rather difficult to not have feelings for the rather sensitive older lad and their apparent mutual connection in the wake of miserable circumstances had taken hold of them.
Alain grunted as he pressed his lips against the redhead girl's and felt the onset of his much-desired release as his body grew tense and he found himself barely able to keep his limp body upright for even a moment after filling the redhead's slick depths as he had during their previous encounters.
Cordelia moaned beneath him as the weight of the spent older lad's body seemingly crushed against her smaller form and she simply lay there basking in the sensation and closeness as her own release ripped through her and she found herself equally spent along with him. The cool of the night seemed to pass them by as the world went on outside the tavern room without them.