Chapter 54: Chapter 53: Bitter Entanglement
Alain's Bedroom, The Salt Mill Tavern, Fifth And Main, Boylesten, England (1763)...
A rolling storm had been of no consequence to the two young lovers coupled inside the room at The Salt Mill Tavern, on Fifth and Main. The noises within had been thankfully drowned out by the crackle of thunder and the flashes of lightning had been of no issue to two people who needed only their bodies enmeshed to adhere to their most basic of carnal needs. The frequent moans that escaped the pinked lips of the young redhead peasant filled the room as the occasional grunts and groaning from the handsome young noble lad hard at work drilling his impressive appendage inside the tight depths of the redhead peasant girl as they jolted along his bed echoed as well.
Alain Remington had not had his fill of the redhead just yet as he continued to pump his hips between her thighs hissing regarding her involuntary clenching of his cock as he thrust harder and deeper than before lost in the sensation threatening to take them both under as his pale ass rose and fell between her pasty thighs and her knees bent to his satisfaction offering a much-needed springboard for his motion while she moaned again and again at the intensity increasing between them.
Cordelia had been caught between being willing to please her handsome noble lover and the issue of his massive size as he plunged in and out of her without a care as to how sensitive her overworked sex had been in the wake of his introducing her to her first cock in from their initial meeting onward. She had been terrified of upsetting him and causing him to leave her for another whom had been more willing to accommodate his massive girth without question or complaint, but she found it difficult to endure as the pain increased more than the pleasure with his rapid round of thrusting.
Alain himself had not known why it was that he had been seemingly addicted to shoving his wayward cock into the tightness of the peasant girl moaning beneath him when there were plenty of women willing to do so much more for his namesake alone but he had chosen to bed her of all people and looks had not even part of the equation so to speak as far as his memory flooded mind had been concerned.
The handsome noble grunted as he felt his end as his cock let forth burst after burst of hot and unimpeded seed filling her already-coated womb some more as he groaned lingering inside her and holding himself up by his weary arms driving his tongue into her waiting mouth byway of a heated french kiss.
The redhead barely had a moment to gasp for breath before he pulled away and dislodged his cock from her warmth their mutual release oozing about her legs and dripping from his semi-hard organ as he rolled back onto his side of the bed. He'd given no quarter to the storm raging outside his room as he fished about in the semi-darkness for a bottle of leftover rum or ale.
Nothing had taken the edge of the notion that his former flame would be marrying and ultimately bedding his older brother like a good round of young trim and a bottle of the strongest booze he could find. Alain put the half-empty bottle to his lips and smirked as he drank some down causing Cordelia to wonder what had been going through his liquor-fueled mind.
"To hell with her," he said aloud having another drink as he turned his attention back to the redhead. "To hell with them both."
Cordelia had not known whom he'd been speaking of, but she agreed seeing it as her only option so as not to upset her drunken lover.
Alain finished off his bottle and climbed out of bed, his massive cock still semi-erect as he walked about the room unphased by the semi-darkness and intent on journeying toward his half-finished canvas. He'd been working on the nude portrait of his newest lover ever since he met her and had gotten her into his room where she had become his and his alone.
He cared not for her being a peasant girl, her body had been lovely and felt just as good on the end of his cock as Noreen's had when he'd taken her beneath The Old Grove, which he now avoided like a plague zone. The image, a rather lifelike replica of Cordelia had she been a young woman of noble birth and caught the fancy of a skillful artist had been coming along nicely as Alain shifted his focus to touching up his painting by way of candlelight.
Cordelia watched him from the bed amid messy tangled covers and sheets as he worked ignoring anything and everything in favor of his painting, his one true love let anyone tell it that had known him well enough. Alain had been all about his work until he'd elected to take a break and then he'd been all about good drink and nasty round of fisticuffs and multiple rounds of young trim.
He'd taken his time with his work and it had come out better than she ever could have imagined as she watched him marveling at his unstated genius when it came to putting a brush to canvas.
Alain had ignored the fact that he'd painted Noreen twice, a flattering picture of nobility when he believed her to have been a fearful commoner and an unflattering, but highly vulgar painting of her naked body as he saw it before his eyes amid the flowers beneath The Old Grove.
Cordelia's portraits had been surrounding the tavern room where they had met and occasionally shagged like unruly rabbits day in and day out when she had not been working or had just come to him after doing so. Alain was more or less active during that time, fighting in tournaments of fisticuffs or drinking his fill at the bar. He spent as little time back home as possible consumed by rage, grief, heartbreak, and his work all at once, and fearing his reaction to either Casimir or Noreen, he avoided them if he could help it.
The day of their wedding had been fast approaching and his stomach was in knots at the thought of Noreen, his sweet Noreen riding Casimir's cock as she had his and the vile line of comparison on their part. He was inexperienced when he'd been with her, he had known as much but he was aiming to spend the rest of his life with her, not watch her walk down the aisle with another bloke, namely his own older brother.
Alain dropped his brush at the implication and made for the privy bucket as he vomited the contents of his stomach retching in reaction to the image in his head. He had made it a point to be good and drunk at the wedding he'd be forced to attend for the sake of keeping up appearances for the family despite him feeling less and less a part of one.
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