The first week of September marked Lisette Joyaux's formal engagement to Jacques Duverneuil. It came about thanks to a vacation in the province of Beaulieu, not far from the French Rivera, where Jacques' mother and father (he now completely recovered from his ailment) brought the young couple along with Lisette's chaperone, Madame Sancercy.
There, Edgar Duvemeuil rented a quaint little villa with its own private ocean beach. The very first afternoon Lisette, along with her chaperone. decided to try the invigorating water. As a child, Lisette had swum in the creek near her home, but she had never before swum in the ocean. When Jacques saw her in a tight-fitting blue bathing suit, he was more in love with her than ever. Through the thin material of the suit, he noted the ripe development of her breasts and bottomglobes; he observed her milky thighs and calves and arms, her dimpled shoulders. Yes! He loved her more than ever!
As for Lisette, she, too, experienced strange feelings when her virginal eyes saw her handsome beau clad only in bathing trunks. She tried not to stare at his sinewy arms and legs, at his chest fringed with black hair that made him appear satyr-like and virile. Nevertheless, she felt a delicious tingle in her groin upon viewing Jacques thus attired for the beach.
Playfully, Lisette decided to prove to her lover how well she could swim. She waded into the ocean. Madame Sancercy, a little alarmed, called to her not to go out so far, but Lisette ignored the warning. And then suddenly she was seized with a cramp. She shrieked as she felt herself drawn under the waves. Fortunately Jacques had been watching: He dove into the water and using a powerful breast stroke, he managed to reach her before she went down for the third time. One arm around her waist, keeping her head up out of the water, he stroked his way back to shore while his parents and the chaperone waited in anguish to see the outcome of the daring rescue.
Lisette swallowed a good deal of seawater and Jacques, carefully laying her on her belly, began to pump it out of her lungs. At last the danger was over, and she moaned and raised her head. She found Jacques looking at her with an anxious gaze, revealing both desire and concern. He lifted her up in his arms and held her tightly to his damp chest, muttering thickly, "You little fool, you might have killed yourself! And I would have been lost without you, my beautiful Lisette!"
In his arms, trembling violently, the golden-haired young woman felt a marvelous sensation of wellbeing - of belonging. And once again the magic of the flesh unleashed within her a desire to encompass him. Their bodies merging as they did, her breasts flattened against his heaving chest, his arms pinning her round the waist, Lisette enfolded him with her pale arms and kissed him hard on the mouth, panting, "You've saved me, my beloved Jacques! Oh, I love you, I do, I do!"
And so at the end of September, Lisette Joyaux and Jacques Duverneuil were married at the Eglise Montfleury They departed that very evening for her little house in Normandy. There, in the huge double bed where she slept so long alone, she would have her nuptial night. There, near the mansion into whose mysteries she had inadvertently wandered, she would yield her maidenhead to her handsome devoted young husband...
It was Janine Ericourt who read the announcement of this marriage in the Paris Matin, and called it to the attention of her intimates. "She has betrayed us all," the svelte brunette declared. "She has become a traitor to her own sex. We must find a way to get her back and to punish her for renouncing the sweet tenderness we taught her to enjoy. We must make her our slave again so that she will not sacrifice herself and all her beauty to an odious, brutal man who will have no appreciation for her sensitivity!"
The rays of the full moon filtered in through the open windows of that cosy marital bedroom, as Lisette Duverneuil-for that was now her name-lay awaiting her husband's first demands upon her virginal body. In a sheer white silk gown trimmed with lace (an heirloom which Jacques' own mother had given her) the beautiful golden-haired virgin lay quivering with expectancy, her fists clenched, the muscles of her thighs rippling under the clinging, soft fabric of the thin veil that hid her milky-skinned glories from the profaning eyes of a man.. .the man who was now her husband. She thought briefly of the nearby house and of Janine and the others who had taught her the anguished delights a woman can feel in her secret flesh. And she wondered if, even though she loved Jacques dearly, she could be to him what a wife must be, bound in flesh while sharing the frantic and feverish ecstasies of passion. He came to her then silently, clambering into bed beside her, flinging aside the sheets, accustoming his eyes to the darkness of the room with its silvered rays, and he saw the two round sweet turrets of Lisette's heaving bosom, the delicate coral nipple buds pouting as they pressed against the thin night-gown.
"Oh, my darling Lisette, how I love you! How gentle I shall be with you, because I want you to love me, too," he exclaimed in a trembling hoarse voice. "May I kiss you where I wish? I wouldn't do anything that would distress you our first time, my beautiful one."
Half-fainting with emotion, terrified and yet eager to know the ultimate of human bonding, Lisette faintly whispered, "Oh, yes, my adored husband!"
He wore his drawers to bed, so that her chaste eyes might not be startled at the sight of his virile manhood, which now swelled and throbbed in frantic eagerness. Forcing himself to use the utmost self-control, he caressed her hips with gentle hands, kissing her soft mouth until it became moist and yielding, until Lisette kissed him back with growing verve.
Only then, when he felt she was becoming attuned to his desires and to her own, did he crouch on his knees and gently lift the hems of her night-gown to expose those round resilient thighs and to see, at last, the conch shell of her virgin love-nest, protected by its thicket of dark golden curls. Lisette, overcome with emotion and with the sweet shame of virginity's last moments, hid her scarlet face in the crook of one sleek arm and turned away so as not to see what he was about to do to her.
Her flat belly with its little navel-niche, led to the love-core of her maiden cunthole. Agonised with desire and with wonder at this gift of beauty which was his, Jacques Duverneuil bent his head, and his fingers grasped and spread the upper columns of Lisette's beautiful naked thighs. He then put his mouth to that tempting center and saluted it with a long and tender kiss, interrupted only by the quick flicking of his tongue.
What intuition led him to this act, he did not know; but for Lisette it was a transference of sorts, in that a male for the first time performed upon her the intimate homage, which until this moment, only others of her own sex had accorded. She moaned aloud, her head turning back and forth upon the pillow, and unconsciously she groped for the back of his head, to press him closer, to urge him to continue his delicate ministrations.
Jacques was overjoyed that Lisette permitted so libidinous a caress, an intimacy many a husband never dared attempt, even after a decade of union. His lips nuzzled the moist pink petals of her virgin cunt, and then, at last, daringly his tongue found the nodule of her erect clitoris, the key to all her deepest emotions.
Arching her hips, widening her thighs, her eyes closed, her nostrils flaring and shrinking, her lips parted in a smile of anguished bliss, Lisette Duverneuil implored by her body's maneuvers a continuation of this sweet homage. His tongue furled back and forth upon her delicate button of delight, flattening it down into its protective cowl of love-flesh. Lisette's body vibrated like .a lyre being plucked by a master artist; her bosom rose and fell with violent rhythm, the muscles of her legs jerked and shivered nervously. She felt herself drawn to the crux, and, almost swooning, she cried out thickly, feverishly: "Oh yes, oh my beloved, it's good, oh love me, my darling husband!"
Jacques straightened and stretched out above her. His hands cupping her heaving breasts, he lowered himself upon her. His aching cock entered the wet petals of her lovespot which lay open beneath him, ready to surrender to his entrance. He pressed himself gently but determinedly up to the virgin barrier, and then, setting his teeth, thrust home his sword. Lisette uttered a cry of pain at the first twinge of maiden loss, but then nature reclaimed her emotions and taught her what she must do to abet her male initiator. Her arms and legs locked round Jacques' wiry naked body, as she felt him delve to the very length of his rod.
The first shock of this penetration dispersed, her now-wakened loins clamoured for fulfilment. His lips fused to hers, silencing her moans and cries, and his hands reached under her to grasp the silky-satiny cheeks of her behind as he began the eternal, timeless rhythm of coitus. With the utmost mastery, he held himself back as he lingeringly stroked her, in and out rhythmically, letting her vaginal tract feel the dimensions of his blade as the clenching channel accommodated him. Lisette's eyes rolled, her nostrils exhaling gusts of tumultuous breath as she felt herself inescapably drawn towards new heights of passion. And then, the pain fled and her body was permeated with his gentle mastery and all her senses bade her capitulate to his lovemaking. In a joyous frenzy of desire in which there was neither shame nor recrimination nor fear, Lisette moved with him, adapting her naked loins and belly to the demands of his thrusting cock. She absorbed him, housed him, and he could feel the enclaspment of her love-canal encompass his delving organ. With a cry of joy and triumph, he felt himself burst within her; and at the first lash of ardent male essence in her womb, Lisette's body stiffened and she felt herself melt and her love-liqueurs flowed to meet his own seething libation.
Thus her wedding night was transfigured into one of eager and responding passion, and Jacques Duverneuil believed himself to be the most fortunate of men, just as Lisette thought herself the most blessed and loved of all women.
Neither of them knew that at this very hour the Lesbian conspirators were scheming to enslave Lisette once again, planning to make her renounce for all time such ecstasies as she just shared on her blissful wedding bed.
