Chapter 14

Frank, to his surprise, liked Yvette's parents. He was a descendant of a Count who had been beheaded during the French Revolution. Napoleon III restored his grandfather to his old lands. His father inherited his family's title and privileges back. His name was Jacque Sousmaire. His wife, Flora, was exactly like her daughter plus twenty years.

Yvette and Flora treated each other as sisters rather mother/daughter. They got along famously. Jacque didn't seem like the type who woud marry a woman like Flora. Although wealthy, Flora spent his money like there was no tomorrow. She had a huge appetite for the latest fashions in Paris which caused her to make a monthly journey to the city.

Frank and Yvette arrived late in the evening. She knew her parents liked going to bed when it turned dark and wake up with the rooster schreeching for everyone to rise. Yvette just took the pillow and pulled it over her ears to drown out the noise. Frank noticed the silk thin sleeping gown she wore. Her nipple was exposed to him as she tried to recapture the dream that she was enjoying when that nasty fowl brought her back to the real world.

"Stop that!" she snapped, her hand blindly swinging at him.

"Great breakfast," he kept on nibbling and licking away.

"I'll give you breakfast... ," she turned away from him. Try as she could, Yvette could not keep him from his persistence to maul her nipple with his mouth. " ... now stop that!" she growled another warning.

"Yum, yum, yum, yum," Frank noised out as each contact with his tongue irritated her further. Yvette managed to push his face away and sit up. He grabbed her. 'She really smells nice', he thought, burying his face in her ass. Her perfume plus her moisture mixed to give out an odor that was too much for him to resist.

Frank threw her back roughly and landed between her legs. His erection nestled right between her legs. "How convenient," he whispered, trying to catch his breath.

"How convienent indeed," she fought him nastily. "I don't feel like it now."

"I do," he held her wrists to restrain her long nails from raking across the skin of this back.

"I don't," she said angrily through gritted teeth.

His cock was at her opening as she tried scooting backwards away from him. He kept going forward. Yvette ran out of room as her head, neck and shoulders were against the bedboard. "Get off of me," she snarled.

"Too late," he laughed as his penis plunged all the way in.

"I'll get you for this," she warned. She tried to bring a knee to his balls but was unable to. She fought against his penetrations but little by little his manhood wore her down. Her breathing became heavy. Her arms wrapped about his neck as she gave in to his raping her. She relaxed and put her long legs about the back of his thighs. She found his rythym and went with it. She couldn't believe how quickly she had gone from rape to being made love to.

"I'm taking a bath ... ALONE!" she said, walking to the bathroom with his cum oozing down her legs. She saw wet spots on her wrinkled silk gown. "I'll never forget this," she stated, closing and locking the bathroom door. The smell of his semen gave her pleasant odors to her nose. She always loved the smell of a man after he expelled into her. Frank was no different. And because he was her husband made it even moreso. However she was not about to tell him that ... at least not until they returned to Paris.

When Yvette appeared in her tennis outfit, all clean and looking so pure and not the fact that an hour ago she was being taken against her will. She was still pissed at Frank for that but acted sweetly. Kissing her husband on the lips, her mother on her cheek, and her father a big kiss and a nip on his earlobe.

"Good morning all," she said, grabbing a plate and going down the line of steaming lids holding all kinds of small service bowls. She picked out one piece of bacon, one egg benedict, and some toast. She poured herself a glass or orange juice and found a spot next to Frank. She managed to kick his shin painfully with her pointed shoe.

"I didn't hear you two get in," Jacque stated, barely looking up from the newspaper which told of Lenin arriving in Moscow. He was now under house arrest but for his protection.

"She attacked me as soon as I woke up," Frank stated, rubbing where she kicked him. Only a shoe in the balls was more painful than in the shin. He felt as if she had skinned his leg from ankle to knee.

"Flora did that to me all the time," Jacque laughed. If his precious daughter wasn't married to this man, they'd be dueling with sabers this morning. But now that he had seen her wedding certificate, anything she did from now on was all right with him.