Chapter 2

The pretty little wench, Gwendolyn had never paused long enough to inquire after my name, but her mother the more logical Simone put the question to me shortly after rising the next morning.

I am certain that I roused her immediate suspicions when I took a little longer than expected to answer the simple question. In God's truth, I was not going to say my name was Mabel Murphy. At least, not while in possession of a nine inch cock. The only thing I could come up with was the name of the French diplomat. So I became Alfonse in that moment. When she asked my family name, I hesitated to reveal the fellow's credentials, so I merely said,

"Alfonse D'Paris, my dear Simone. My family has lived there for many generations."

Simone caught on fast and did not press me further. Closed mouthed strangers were the norm in 833AD. It was one of the first rules of survival with the myriad blood feuds that abounded in the strangest of places.

Gwendolyn was still abed and I could hear her snores even at the other end of the shack. Her mother looked at her and then up at me and I could tell she had mischief on her mind when she unfurled my pole from its resting place inside my breeches. It was a simple operation without a codpiece.

The wetness of Simone's ripe mouth was soothing and yet most exciting. She was missing a number of teeth on one side of her mouth and the absence created a soft spot on her gums that stroked my shaft with an unforgettable sensitivity driving me to shuddering distraction. I surmised this was the result of an accident or an injury as the remainder of her teeth seemed in fine and healthy condition.

The mature woman bobbed her head with a determined degree of purpose. I was surprised that she was cupping my ass cheeks with her hands and was forcibly spreading my cheeks open for exploratory probing with her long middle digit. This spirited stimulation of my prostate caused me to leak copious pre-cum into the attractive woman's mouth. It mixed frothily with her own saliva and I felt as if I was driving my cock into a pool of creamy female juice. My own juices were fast speeding to release.

Simone looked up at me with knowing eyes. She obviously was an expert at this game.

I put both of my hands on the back of her head taking hold of her lustrous black hair and pushed her to the base of shaft just as I spewed my load into her gagging throat. Her coughing woke her daughter and I heard Gwendolyn call out,

"Is everything all right?"

Simone was giggling behind her hand as she tried to mute her reaction to my bestowal of creamy cum into her gullet. Two lines of white cream dribbled down from the sides of her mouth and dripped with depraved sensuality from the tip of her slightly pointed chin. Unable to resist, I leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips and pushed my greedy tongue inside her skillful mouth. I could feel her heart beating fast and she trembled in my encircling arms like a young maiden on her first date.

It was a very welcoming household, but I had no hopes of finding true love here with either Simone or her lovely daughter Gwendolyn. They were both charming creatures, but I suspected they would denounce me in a trice if cornered into admitting base fornication with a strange male.

The directions Simone gave me were quite good and I departed mid-day for the thriving town of Lyon and the opportunity to view some of the French hierarchy at close range. Simone was kind enough to souvenir me with a clean shirt and breeches belonging to her deceased husband. Gwendolyn pressed a kerchief filled with cheese and bread into my hand and whispered,

"Watch out for those city girls. The say they want your cock but they are really after your money."

I pondered that this fact was true after more than a thousand years. It was a singular constant reinforcing the premise regardless of clime or place.

I laughed because I was without a single coin in my purse. In fact, I had no purse.

Once I had traversed a fairly wide stream, almost a river, it was downhill all the way to the little city. The traffic on the road was becoming more evident and several farm carts carrying produce and live animals were all headed into the central market.

It was difficult for me to comprehend all of the slurred dialects being spoken from the hinterlands but every now and then some school taught French entered my ears with a delicate flavor of civilized breeding. I saw a very dirty looking female perched on her rump on the back of a jouncing cart in front of me. She had sparkling eyes and a nubile air of repressed sensuality about her. Each bump in the road set her well-endowed breasts to jumble and quiver in erotic fashion. She hiked up her bodice and addressed me in a jocular manner.

"Got an eyeful of my pretty little pair, do you?"

I smiled because that is exactly what I was engaged in so doing.

"I compliment you on their fine construction, my dear. I hope your bottom is not too bruised from that hard seat you have taken."

The young girl giggled and turned her shapely rear end to me for my viewing.

"Would you like to inspect it up close and personal, my handsome stranger?"

This was an invitation I was quite prone to take up and approached closer to the damsel. She was quite comely despite the dirty clothes and the handicap of an unwashed face. Her hair was relatively clean and smelled of nutmeg or cinnamon seed.

"My name is Alfonse. Would you care to take a short respite under that shade tree and share my cheese and bread?"

The spirited young female jumped off the cart almost into my arms and followed me to the shade of the sturdy tree keeping watch over the main road into the city center. The grass was dry and the area was devoid of pesky insects normally found along the dusty road.

"They call me Nicolette. I am the daughter of Sir Hugh of Lyon but my dear departed mama was a lady of physical pleasure well renowned for her expertise in satisfying many partners in one night."

At first, I thought the girl was having verbal sport with me, but I discerned she was in deadly earnest when she made a motion with her hand that cast the thought of her forebears away from her like an unwelcome curse.

We gobbled down the delicious cheese and bread so thoughtfully provided by Gwendolyn. Nicolette produced a flask of some very tasty wine from the vineyards of southern France and it made the tasty treat slide down with very little difficulty. I took some water from the stream nearby and used a clean area of my shirt to wipe the streaks from Nicolette's pretty face. Her lips were ruby red and when she momentarily let her tongue emerge, I was taken with its sensual pointy shape and sense of flexibility.