Bertrice Small - The Innocent

What was happening? Elf felt her heart begin to beat faster. The hidden spot between her legs that he was even now taunting was growing tight, and it felt as if it might burst. She gasped for air as a wave of heat washed over her, and then suddenly she seemed to explode with intense feeling. "Ranulf!" she cried his name as she felt the finger leave its place, and push slowly into her. Her lithe body arched against him. The finger was gentle, but a distinct invasion.

Her little jewel had responded quickly to him, Ranulf thought, well pleased. Her body had released a flow of her juices, and his finger was sliding easily into her tight sheath. She winced when it touched her maidenhead, which was tightly lodged, but she did not struggle or beg him to stop. He moved the long finger back and forth within her love channel, and she began to whimper. "Are you ready to be a woman, Eleanore?" he asked her, looking deep into her silvery eyes.

"Yes!" she nodded. Relief! She wanted relief from this burning, overwhelming feeling that was threatening to kill her. Instinctively she knew that only Ranulf could offer her that surcease.

"You are dainty, and I am large," he told her. "I could crush you with my size. We must be extremely careful this first time." He lifted her from his lap, and laid her upon their bed. Then he knelt before her, leaning back upon his haunches.

Elf’s eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and shock as she viewed her husband’s manhood for the first time. This was no boy’s lance, but the full-grown weapon of a man. "You cannot put that in me," she gasped. "It is too big! You will kill me with it!"

"Nay, petite, it will fit nicely, I promise you," he said. "Now, open yourself to me, Eleanore, and trust me not to harm you."

Reluctantly she spread herself before him. Taking her gently by the ankles, he drew her forward until his manhood met her nether lips. He rubbed himself up and down her slit until it began to pout, and give off a moistness of its very own. The head of his lance slipped between those humid lips. He drew her even closer, and she felt him beginning to delve into her love channel. Elf shuddered, not from fear, but rather from anticipation of what was to come.

He felt the head of his manhood penetrate her gently, entering her, moving slowly forward. It was all he could do not to violate her and take his own pleasure, so great was his lust for her now. "When I press deep, petite, wrap your legs about me," he instructed her in a tight voice. He began to push forward into her, and to his delight her slender legs folded themselves about him. She was tight. She was hot and, oh, so very wet! He groaned with the pleasure of her. Her body filled his senses, setting his head awhirl.

Elf gasped as his thick and lengthy manhood thrust into her. She had never felt so invaded-and yet so complete. She understood now the need for their position. By coming to him rather than his coming to her, his large body did not crush her delicate one. She gasped again. The manhood was moving back and forth within her. The friction was exciting, and her head spun with excitement as she realized she was actually enjoying his amorous attentions. Suddenly he stopped. His mouth came down hard on hers. Then he drove himself deep into her, shattering her maidenhead as he went. Her cry was lost in his own mouth, but tears pearled her cheeks as the pain of her violation overwhelmed her.

Lifting his mouth from hers, he murmured, "Forgive me, petite. There was no other way, for your maidenhead was very tightly entrenched." He kissed the tears upon her cheeks as he began a rhythmic movement within her that set her senses quickly reeling. Faster and faster, and deeper and deeper he pumped his loins against hers.

The pain was gone. It was as if it had never existed. Pleasure, sweet, hot pleasure was beginning to flood her entire being. She struggled to open herself more to him. Little cries were emitted from her throat. "Ranulf! Ranulf! Ohhh, holy Mother, I never knew! It is wonderful! It is wonderful! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Her body tensed, shuddered, exploded in a burst of delicious feelings. "Nooooo! I want more! Ohhhhhhhh!" Then she swooned, sliding away into a warm darkness.

He groaned as his love juices erupted to flood her secret garden. He pulsed with pleasure, until finally and reluctantly he withdrew from her and rested on his side.

How many women had he had in a lifetime? Enough to realize that what he had with this girl, this woman, was truly miraculous and special. How he loved her! And she, his sweet Eleanore, could not know. This was her first experience with passion. What if that passion died quickly? Then they would be like so many other married couples, living together with naught but children and hopefully respect in common. He realized he could not bear it if she rejected him. Better she never know he had lost his heart to her. He didn't want her telling him she loved him from pity or duty. If one day she admitted those feelings for him, then, and only then, would he admit his love for her.

Ranulf rose over the still unconscious girl and gathered her into his arms again. He saw the blood upon their sheets, staining her slim thighs. He smoothed her hair and held her tightly, kissing her brow. She stirred faintly, then opened her eyes. "Are you all right, petite?" he asked her.

She nodded, touching his face in a tender gesture. Was this feeling she felt love? Or was it merely lust? How could she tell? How could she know? She couldn't ask Ranulf. He would surely be embarrassed by her girlishness and naiveté. Besides, he certainly did not love her, and any declaration upon her part would only discomfit him. They seemed compatible, and they liked each other. If she gushed of love, he would only be put off. Better she say nothing at all. He was older, sophisticated. Battle-hardened knights such as Ranulf de Glandeville did not feel emotions like love. Best she remain silent, and keep his respect and friendship.

"You were very brave," he told her admiringly.

"You were very kind," she answered him. "When can we do it again, my lord? I must admit, I enjoyed making love with you."

He smiled, surprised, yet delighted. "Ahh, petite, I will need time to recover from your passion, but perhaps before the dawn we may join our bodies again if it would please you."

"Would it please you also?" she demanded.

"Aye, lady. You are a delicious and most satisfying armful. The king has done me a greater kindness than he can ever know," Ranulf said honestly.

"Let us not tell him," Elf said mischievously. Then she let her eyes wander to his groin. "Ah, it is as Mistress Martha said," she noted. "In verity her words have proved truth all around."

"Who is Mistress Martha?"

"The clothier’s wife in Worcester. While we altered the garments the bishop purchased for me, she explained the intricacies of lovemaking and the male body to me. I should not have known otherwise."

Ranulf laughed. "I am relieved you were well instructed, petite."

"Well, the abbess made no attempt to enlighten me, and I could not be certain of my friends and their prattling gossip."

He laughed again. She was so delightfully practical. He kissed her lips lightly. "Let us get some rest now, petite," he said, and he drew the coverlet over them.

When Elf awoke again the fire was low, but there was the faint light of the day just before the dawn beyond the cracks in the shutters. Looking down upon her husband, she was overwhelmed by a sudden and great desire to pleasure and to be pleasured. This was surely lust. She drew the coverlet back, silently examining him. Her hand smoothed lightly over his flat belly. Then boldly she bent down, and began to lick him. He moaned low, stirring. Elf lifted her head as a tiny movement caught her eye. It was his manhood, and it had stirred ever so slightly. Reaching out with brazen fingers, she touched the thick peg of flesh, brushing over it, and then as it began to truly awaken and elongate, she trailed her little fingers up and own its great length.

"Shameless wench," Ranulf murmured, not even opening his eyes. Reaching out, he lifted her up over his belly, then slowly lowered her until her sheath had fully encased his manhood.

"Ohhhhhh, yes!" Elf breathed. "Oh, yes, my Ranulf!" She clasped him between her thighs strongly.

"Ride me, petite," he instructed her, his voice tight.

Blushing at her own shamelessness, she moved on him, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He pulled her forward so that her small breasts were crushed against his chest. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her hungrily as they loved with fury until the pleasure was so great that it consumed them both as she collapsed atop him, sighing lustily. "Ahhhhh, Ranulf! That was wonderful!"

His heart felt as if it would burst with his delight. He laughed aloud. "Nay, Eleanore, you are wonderful! I adore you, petite! There is no other woman like you-and you are indeed every bit a woman now-my sweet wife." His arms wrapped about her.

She was damp with exertions, and so was he. There was something marvelous about lying atop him. She could feel his very strength pulsing beneath her. And he had said he adored her. She had pleased him. He had pleased her. Now that she knew what marital relations were all about, she understood the sacrifice she would have made had she taken her final vows. But without Ranulf, she would have known nothing. She would have gone through life innocent of the miraculous and astonishing passions a man and his wife could share. She began to cry.

Immediately he was concerned. He rolled her over into his arms, crooning at her. "Petite, do not weep. What is it? Have I harmed you in any way? Tell me, Eleanore, for you are breaking my heart!"

"I… I… I am so happy!” she sobbed. "Then, why are you crying?"

"Because I am happy! It is all right, Ranulf." She snuggled against him, and patted his cheek.

He was totally confused, but she did not seem in any pain. Was this, then, what men meant when they said that they did not understand women? Kissing the top of her head softly, he thought it must.

The walls around the demesne now stood twelve feet in height. Inside of the walls, four feet below their top, ran a platform, three feet in width, and well braced. There the men-at-arms might stand on their patrol, having a good view of the surrounding countryside. A staircase was built at each corner of the walls to give quick access to its parapet in case of attack. Hefty new oaken doors, reinforced with iron, were hung on strong iron hinges. The shallow moat surrounding the walls was dug deeper. An earthen rim surrounded it, and its earthen crossover was replaced with a heavy oak drawbridge.

"It’s fine enough to withstand a siege," Fulk noted.

"Nay," Ranulf said. "The walls enclose too big a space. It’s breachable. Not easily, but breachable by a strong army, though not the Welsh rabble. We need a castle to make Ashlin stronger, but we have not the power, the wealth, or the king’s permission to build one. So, Fulk, we will consider how best to defend the manor house itself in the event of an attack. But first the church, lest my lady say I am not a man of my word."

" 'Tis time to plow the fields, my lord," Fulk pointed out.

"The serfs must give us three days a week of work. Those who give me a fourth day’s labor to rebuild the church will be paid in coin when the job is done," the lord of Ashlin said.

John, the bailiff, who had been walking with them, nodded. "I will tell all of your offer, my lord."

"I will expect one strong man from each household," Ranulf said sternly. "Tell them no permissions for marriages will be given until the church is repaired, and its roof thatched. The lady desires that a priest be called to Ashlin again. It cannot be done until the church is ready to receive the bishop’s man."

The fields were plowed, and the winter crops harvested. Every third field was left fallow in rotation. Of the two remaining fields, one was planted. The other arable field would not be planted until the late summer for harvest the following spring. The ewe sheep had birthed a bountiful number of lambs. They would have wool to sell at Hereford town come the summer fair. There were three new calves. Next to her herbarium Elf recultivated her garden, enlarging it so she would have plenty of medications for her store, with which to dose her people when necessary.