Over the next few days, I tried to spend as much time as I could with Maurice while trying not to be found out.
Although I desired him very much, and I lost no time in getting undressed and in giving and receiving pleasure inside that little room, which had become the location for all our encounters, I also wished to know everything about him.
This was the malady I had been infected with: not only did I crave the pleasure that he could give me and desired to repay him by sucking, rubbing, licking, inserting, spreading and giving free passage, but I also wanted to possess his soul as much as his body.
Therefore, I asked him to tell me about his life. I desired to know whether he was born in this part of the country, for his accent betrayed a different origin, or how he came to live here; I wanted to know his connection with the two people upstairs; and I demanded he told me everything without reticence.
He was quite shy at the beginning. This surprised me because he was always very ready with his actions with me, and in his use of the dick, the finger, or the tongue, he behaved as happily and unconcerned of any criticism as I wished him to be, but when it came to his words, I knew not what held his tongue back.
'Whatever it is,' I told him, 'I can bear it. In fact, I believe there is nothing I couldn't accept because it pertains to you.'
So, with much coaxing over the next few days, between a shag and a serving of coq-au-vin, I learned the following story.
Hi name, as I said, was Maurice. He was born in Provence. Of this land, he still carried the accent, so much smoother and song-like than the angular Breton tongue I was familiar with.
His father was a farmer, and Maurice helped with the animals from a young age. He was in charge of the goats. He milked them; he made the cheeses; he sold their produces at the market. His many brothers and sisters were similarly employed, one busy with the turnips and another with the timber, and I believe Maurice would have grown up to be another simple peasant like the rest of his family, had it not been for Louise.
Louise was the daughter of a rich landowner.
Maurice and Louise were of the same age. They had seen each other many times, growing up. In church, at the market where he sold dairy and vegetables from the fields, and in the fields where he worked and where she enjoyed taking a stroll. But there was no confidence, and not a word ever passed between them.
She had dark hair and dark eyes. A true Southern beauty. She was slender. But what truly intrigued Maurice was her superb air: she was much aware of her station, of how people admired and envied her family, and of how much jealousy was in the eyes of the other girls when they looked at her and of how much desire was in the eyes of the boys.
Without ever speaking to her, he was aware of her presence: when he was selling his wares at the market, he sought her with his eyes; at church, he observed her as she walked out from the Sunday mass; and, whenever he saw her around town, he was always filled with great curiosity and desire.
But (and this would have come as unexpected news and would have surprised him greatly) it seems that Louise had also noticed Maurice. Although he was nothing but a farmer's son, he was strong and beautiful. His cheerful attitude ingratiated him with everyone he knew, and I have no doubt that a woman's feelings have no regard for their object's station in society.
One day when Maurice was eighteen, he was taking a bath in a river along with other boys he knew. Every summer, they erected a small dam with stones and pieces of lumber so that the river created a little pool, shaded by hazel, chestnut, olive, oak, and pine trees, where they could bathe.
Maurice and his friends were naked as they bathed. It was understood that this place was only for the men, and they had no reason to keep their modesty. They laughed with each other; they dived into the water, splashed each other, and, in a word, were being free and unconcerned.
Suddenly, Maurice saw Louise, half hidden behind some brambles. He was startled to notice that this girl he so admired was staring directly at him.
She didn't seem interested in the others. She was watching him with great intensity, and, when she too noticed that he had discovered her, she held her gaze steady.
Maurice felt much ashamed without knowing why. He quickly got dressed and left, still looking back towards the girl who hadn't moved from her hiding place and kept staring at him with her air of superiority and a smile on her lips.
Although at the time he was much disturbed by this event, the next morning he had already forgotten it.
Then, out of the blue, one morning the routine of the farm was disturbed when Louise and some of the girlfriends arrived at the farm. This was a small group, which would have reminded a less intimidated observer of a flock of hens, all colours and feathers, and little poses filled with self-importance. But none of Maurice's family members thought this. They were all fearful and embarrassed.
Upon the arrival of these young ladies, there was a great commotion.
Maurice's father seemed struck on the spot, babbling thank-yous and welcomes in a ceremonious, but ultimately ridiculous way.
The mother began running around looking for some wine to offer, chairs for them to sit; she slapped the kids who stood on the way, ordered the others to clean up, and made a great demonstration of being exceedingly honoured by this unexpected visit, in a more energetic, but ultimately equally inappropriate way.
The visitors were sniggering. Everything seemed uncouth and strange. The young children they saw were very dirty, the older girls poorly dressed, the men unable of fashionable conversation, each corner of the house that was being offered for them to sit in too drafty or too hot, too sunny or too dark.
All this was expressed as loudly and with as many bursts of laughter as possible, which flustered Maurice's mother even further, and rendered his father completely mute and utterly terrified: men of his kind equally resented and feared the rich and the powerful. They could talk at length about injustice and social revolt when they were preaching to friendly ears, until, faced with their opponent, they bowed very low, conscious of their own insignificance.
'What brings you here?' Maurice's mother asked.
The girls giggled, while Louise looked at the ceiling with an unconcerned air.
'We wanted to see where our cheese is made,' said one.
Maurice and his siblings had been rounded up by their parents and now stood there, awaiting orders. But no orders came. Cake was brought forward and sent back. Wine was poured and left untouched.
Maurice's parents, conscious of their inadequacy, were desperate to make an offer that would be accepted, but the visitors had no conscience, or no interest, of their duty to prove courteous and accept something, anything. But they didn't.
They sat there, not talking to anyone but each other. They then asked to see the property, which they found wanting in every possible way. These are the stables where the goats are kept? It's dirty. This is where the cheese is stored? It's smelly.
Maurice's mother was disconcerted by all these unforgivable flaws in the way she lived, and, what's more, she could see that these young ladies were completely right in their assessment. Tears came to her eyes, and she fought hard so that they wouldn't come. Instead, she smiled at these guests and asked for their forgiveness, and wouldn't they accept anything to eat?
Finally, they departed.
What did this visit mean?
The family talked about it at length. Was there any design on their land? And if so, why send these young women, instead of a surveyor, a lawyer, or an intermediary who could explain things in a sensible way?
This was a great mystery.
If Maurice suspected anything, he said nothing.
A few days later, he was in the stable shovelling hay, when, with the corner of his eye, he saw the burst of light as a small door opened on a back wall. He thought nothing of it, at first. It was probably one of his brothers, or his father. But then he was startled to look up and see Louise looking down at him.
'Yes?' he asked, straightening is collar and wiping his hands on his shirt.
Louise said nothing but, with the rudeness of someone who needs a great energy to win over their own shyness and forgets good manners, kissed him on the lips so hard it was nearly painful.
Maurice knew little of love, but his body seemed to possess a secret knowledge that, in that moment, revealed itself in an unexpected way. The boy stepped back, trying to hide the sudden erection that was bulging inside his trousers.
'Where are you going?' Lousie asked, and she grabbed him and kissed him again. 'Is there a place you can take me?'
Maurice didn't know what she meant by this, so he said:
'My mother is home, if you want to speak to her. My father is in the fields.'
The girl laughed:
'What do I want with those two?'
Then, she placed her hand on his groin.
'Miss,' he said, much ashamed, 'I didn't mean to… I'm so sorry… It went up on its own...'
She let him stutter through these excuses. His inexperience pleased her greatly. When he was finished, she said:
'That, down there, is exactly what I come for. Now, where can we go, where we won't be disturbed?'
Maurice indicated a small ladder that led to a space above the stables.
'That's fine,' she said.
So, he quickly went up and helped her climb the last few steps.
The rays of the day filtered through some gaps in the roof. It was dark, warm and cozy.
'I can still smell them,' Louise said with some disdain.
Maurice looked around, unsure of what she was referring to.
'The goats!' she said curtly. Then, she got closer to him: 'Oh, it's you… Never mind.'
She began to undress.
'So?' she asked him. 'You, too. Quick. Don't you like me?'
He stared at her naked body. It was slim and soft. The breasts were small and round with dark, puffy nipples that appeared engorged. Her dark hair, that she had loosened from a braid and now rested on her shoulders, was matched by black patches of fur on her crotch and under her armpits.
'Yes, I like you very much,' he said.
She put her dress down and lay on it. She was looking at Maurice with great desire. Then, slowly, she opened her legs.
'I'm ready. Why aren't you coming?'
Maurice was a timid young man and, despite many girls had shown interest in him in the past, he had never been intimate with anybody before.
Louise was impatient. Even though she was the same age as he was, she spoke with a superior tone:
'People like you should know these things. Some here, you stupid boy, I will show you this one time.'
She then instructed him to place his mouth between her thighs.
He looked at her, quite unsure of what to do now.
'Lick. Here. See this part?'
He stared at the part that Louise was showing, as she parted her labia with her fingers and, moving up, unhooded her clitoris. Then he did as she said. He moved his tongue up and down. He had no name for this new activity she was teaching him, and he had never before thought about doing such a thing to a lady. And yet, he was very aroused by it.
'No dirty fingers in here. Understood?'
That order wasn't necessary: Maurice was so intimidated by this creature, well washed and perfumed, that he was scared to touch her.
He licked, as she told him to go harder, faster, deeper, to indulge on this part, to slow down, to move to that bit. Her instructions soon became loud sighs, moans and cries rather than words. Maurice quickly learned which parts were more sensitive and kissed those parts as if he was kissing her mouth.
Then, she said:
'I'm done.'
And she got up and began to dress. She gave Maurice's dick a look, and, finding it still erect, added:
'You'll have to finish for yourself.'
He didn't dare. He got dressed and walked her downstairs.
Neither one spoke, even though there was so much he wanted to ask her and tell her.
She gave him one last look and left.
Was she going to come back or had this been a sudden moment of mania that had taken her? Maurice was so hopeful of her return, and so conscious of his inadequacy, that, over the next few days, he would sneak to the trough and give himself a good wash. She had found him too dirty and smelly, and, if she ever returned, he wanted to please her.
Every time he shoved manure, or every time he milked the goats, he thought that that activity was going to soil him, and, as soon as he had finished with it, he ran to clean and brush the scent off as best as he could.
But that hadn't been an isolated occasion, or a sudden moment of madness on Lousie's part. The girl must have been thinking of him too, and, unable to resist the urge to see him again, she returned after a few days.
He was in the fields, and it must have taken her a while to find him, all the while not wanting to be seen, which had thrown her into a rage.
'Here you are!' she huffed.
He was suddenly conscious of not having bathed since the morning.
'Come!' she ordered him.
When they were close to the house, she demanded where they kept the butter.
He pointed towards the house.
'Get some, then,' she said.
He guessed that she was quite hungry and was happy to be able to offer her some of their food, as simple at it might be. He presently returned with a loaf of bread and a piece of butter wrapped in some cloth.
She looked at what he had brought and laughed but said nothing. Instead, she dragged him to the little stable where they had met before.
They walked up the little step ladder. This time, she was first.
Finally, feeling safe, she took him in his arms and kissed him.
'I can't stop thinking of you. Why?'
He didn't know what to answer. He too had been thinking about her, and this had made him suffer greatly.
'I want you,' she whispered, now calmer and, for the first time, with a sweet tone in her voice.
She helped him undo his trousers and remove his shirt.
Then, it was his turn to help her.
When they were finally naked, they created a little mattress with their clothes.
'I can kiss you in that place,' he said.
She shook her head:
'I want you inside me.'
He was then surprised when she lay down on her stomach, as he had imagined her to welcome him in her arms.
She looked at him, and, seeing the look of surprise in his face, she laughed:
'I can't lose my virginity. Here,' she said, spreading her buttocks.
She instructed him to take some of that butter he had brought with him and to put some inside her anus to lubricate it.
He reddened. He had never heard of this act. And he now saw she had thought him a fool for getting bread with the butter.
He knelt behind her and with trembling fingers he began to circle around the tight sphincter. He gazed at the margins, that darker halo that colours the outer area of the anus and is in so stark a contrast with the milky-white skin of the butt cheeks.
Louise gave little laughs, as she found this area a little ticklish and the attention not at all unpleasant.
Maurice, emboldened by this, moved the tip of his index into that narrow passage, feeling the muscles resist at first, then, surprisingly, giving way. The inside was smooth and warm, and it produced a sort of sucking effect on his finger.
'Don't worry,' she said. 'I like what you're doing very much. Don't stop. Keep going.'
He then moved his finger further in. He added more butter, making the passage easier. Then, when Louise asked him to, he added a second finger.
'You need to prepare me,' she said, panting a little, and red in the face.
Now and then, Maurice looked down at his dick that was hard and very red, almost desperately so. He was then very glad when Louise said she wanted him to put it inside her ass.
'Just be gentle,' she said. 'I believe you have quite a sizeable tool.'
She looked a little nervous, and Maurice, even though he was very eager, asked her a few times if she was sure she wanted him in this way.
She was nervously running one hand back and forth on the length of her vulva.
Maurice was worried he might hurt her.
'Put it in, silly,' she said.
Then, unable to resist further, he lay on top of her and, guiding his dick into her ass, he pushed it in.
'Aaaah!' she whispered.
Lousie closed her eyes for a moment and breathed quickly.
'Are you well?' Maurice asked.
She waited a while before she answered, then he felt her push her ass towards him.
This was the first time Maurice had ever lain with a woman. He was full of confusion, but, all the while, he was rejoicing for he felt loved. He also felt a kind of pleasure that was greater than anything he had ever felt.
'Oh, miss, how I like it,' he said.
'Then fuck me!' she replied.
He began to move slowly in and out of her. He felt the warmth of her body underneath him. He smelled the perfume in her hair. And, when he began to touch her, he felt that she was not resisting him.
He felt her small and supple breasts. He caressed her slender sides, and he felt the firmness of her ass.
Louise kept both hands in her crotch that she was tormenting to aid her pleasure. She whispered tenderly to Maurice all the while:
'Oh, how I like it… It's so nice and big… I'm hot all over… Just take me… Harder now…'
Maurice was pushing harder now, as pleasure is selfish and knows no restraint. The harder he pushed, the more she seemed to like it.
Louise was not fully open and used to his size, and there was nothing limiting or dampening her pleasure. She was moaning softly, now and then sending a louder cry, or giving a word of encouragement if she desired more depth and force.
'I beg you…' she said, 'I beg you… Press that big cock all the way down… Aaaah! Like that, like that… Oh, my God! Yes, yes, yes…'
Maurice felt her squeeze him tightly. Then she gave a loud moan. This excided him so much that he felt a great tingling of his testicles and a great warmth surge from it spreading to his abdomen. Then, he felt the rush of his semen through his penis, and he ejaculated inside her.
His body was still sending waves of pleasure, so that he had to push his dick in a few times into Louise's asshole. Then, all was still.
The animals below were rustling through the hay, and Maurice and Louise were panting next to each other.