Chapter 7 Belle-Belle
Belle-Belle
Benoit’s mouth was agape as I took my hair down from its tail and let the blond locks flow around my shoulders. I wore nothing but a white shirt and trousers; I was overdressed for a man, and underdressed for a woman.
“You are beautiful as a woman, Milord, rather, Milady” he said, his voice half-guttural. I took it as a sign of arousal, based on the half-overheard whispers of my older sisters.
“Where do we start?” I asked, then blushed.
“Please do not think me ignorant, Benoit. Growing up on the frontier, I was aware early of the mechanics of reproduction between animals. I have seen man and wife exchange an embrace and a kiss on the cheek in public. I occasionally wake from dreams with a sense of pleasure. But I do not have the recipe for connecting all these things.”
He slowly moved to kneel in front of where I sat on the bed’s edge. His head was level with mine, his blue eyes searching.
“First, every touch should be pleasurable, and it should be wanted. If I do anything counter to your wishes, you must tell me. It will not harm me to hear such words from you; I am prepared to follow you into battle, Milord; I am made of stronger stuff than you think.”
I nodded.
“Second, many people begin with light touches and kisses, and that is where I intend to start.”
My chest rose as I sharply inhaled. If we were to begin with one activity, where would we end? Was there an order in which to proceed? If I deviated from the order, would I displease the king?
As though anticipating my thoughts, Benoit continued.
“There are a variety of activities people find pleasurable, and you will likely accumulate a catalog of what you enjoy. Some acts feel good when they happen to you, and others are pleasing when you are the one doing them to another. For now, I think you should learn what feels exquisite in your own body, both to have that knowledge, and to have some idea of the kind of feeling you can inspire in another.”
The words rolled over me, and I felt grateful to have such a knowledgeable and considerate partner, even as I felt fear that I would not be adequate.
So many moments in my past had become fraught memories, framed by mocking laughs from my sisters or pitying glances from the minor nobles who passed through the frontier.
I had not been good enough as a daughter training to be marriageable and versed in feminine pursuits. Clearly I was not good enough as a man to evade detection.
“Milord,” Benoit murmured, his face a mere whisper away from mine. “You have traveled somewhere else in memory or fear. I would encourage you to be present in these moments, if it is possible for you. If it is not, perhaps we should try this endeavor another time.”
I shook my head. “No. I do not know how much time we have before we reach the capital. Please begin.”
He chuckled, and I noticed that he had a dimple in one cheek.
“As Milord wishes.” Then he leaned closer still and pressed his lips to mine.
At first it was a chaste kiss, like those I had seen others receive in public. His lips were warm, and I noticed a slight smoky scent to him. His face was shaded with a short beard, but it was soft. One of his hands lifted to cup my cheek, and the rough, callused texture was a pleasing contrast.
His eyes, which had been closed, opened. Bright blue orbs speared me. He drew back, smiling.
“Many people close their eyes while kissing.”
“Oh!” I replied, lifting a hand to my cheek in surprise. There was so much to learn!
He leaned in for another kiss, and this one continued longer, and deeper, with the feel of his mouth slowly easing open, so we could fence with our tongues.
He began to gently touch my hair and scalp, and the sensations spurred me to greater passion.
I realized at some point that I could touch him as well, and so I did.
Once I’d raised a hand to stroke his neck, with its thick, corded muscles, he made a moaning sound into my mouth as we continued to kiss.
Both of his hands were soon involved, and they moved from stroking my hand to caressing my collarbone. They moved downward still, and when his fingertips found my nipples, I arched my back and stiffened.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered roughly, his lips almost touching mine still.
“Yes, very much so,” I responded. I initiated another kiss, and he began to touch my breasts with more gusto, finding ways to alternate between kneading the flesh and stilling on the nipples that had me writhing under his touch. And if it felt this good over my shirt…
I pulled back and tugged my shirt over my head.
He sat back on his heels, regarding me with eyes half-lidded. I was beginning to recognize his expressions, and noticed that while this one might make him appear sleepy, no, it was instead a look of enraptured desire.
He moved in again, to stroke and touch my breasts, and this time, he also leaned in to use his mouth. I again alternated between a stiff and loose posture, which I began to recognize as connected to the throbbing warmth building at the base of my spine.
Ever so gently, he moved forward, easing my knees apart so that his massive torso was situated between my legs, so that our bodies were pressed almost flush with one another, except for where he bent forward to capture one breast in his mouth.
I reached one hand up to anchor fingers in his thick head of brown hair, keeping his face exactly where it was. At my touch, he exhaled hard, which only served to heighten the sensations in my chest.
He reached one hand down, to cup the area between my legs. Warmth flooded my body, and I knew I wanted more.
He pulled away, and apparently liked what he saw in my eyes, because he reached down and used both hands to pull down my trousers.
A series of feather-light touches landed on my upper thighs, slowly converging on my core.
He then began planting kisses on my inner thighs, which made me squirm and giggle.
This only seemed to encourage him, as he continued the motion upwards, until he’d taken my core into his mouth and was kissing and licking there.
I moaned and fell backward on the bed. But once again, my spine had other ideas, and soon I was arching and writhing once more.
I had never imagined that pleasure like this might exist. Benoit seemed eager to explore my responses, since his tongue alternated between quick flicks and slow circles, and occasionally, he withdrew entirely to shower kisses upon my thighs, rubbing his chin and cheeks on my skin, causing me to gasp at the tickling sensations.
During one of these moments, I propped myself up on my arms to watch him, and immediately, his blue eyes locked onto mine.
“Is this…form of kissing,” I gasped, “also one where it’s polite to close one’s eyes?”
He growled into my sensitive bits. “You may do as you will, but I prefer to see the look in my lover’s eyes when I bring her to climax.”
“Ah,” I gasped, half reply and half sharp inhalation.
He reached up with one hand, and its span was big enough to allow him to apply pressure to both of my breasts at once.
This drew another gasp from me, and I saw a corresponding glint in his eyes.
Suddenly, both of his hands were on my breasts, and his fingers were manipulating my nipples in a way that was sharp but not painful.
Those sensations combined with the building tingles in my core, and as he plied me with his tongue, I felt like I was approaching a breaking point.
This had happened every so often in my dreams, while I enjoyed a gratifying yet vague fantasy about some knight sweeping me off my feet and pleasuring me…
but it had never been so intense. So immediate.
There had also never been a gigantic man kneeling between my legs, focusing his mouth and hands on the most tender, sensitive parts of me. He redoubled his efforts as I began to pant, and the force of his attention began to push me over an edge I hadn’t known existed.
Within moments, I was engulfed in waves of pleasure. The sensation originated in my core and rolled throughout my body, raising prickles on my skin. I cried out, convulsed, and continued to shudder as Benoit raked his tongue over me and gripped my nipples firmly.
Eventually, my body stilled. And I felt a calm sweep over me, a subtle joy, and I wondered that this unique pleasure should have been reserved for so long for only the marital bed.
And then I recalled my old fears, that I would not be found worthy of marriage, and I stuffed them down to deal with later, when I did not have a gorgeous man kneeling between my legs.
I had closed my eyes at some point. I opened them, to see Benoit looking at me, a smile tugging at his lips. Those same lips which were glistening with moistness that had partly originated in my body, I now realized.
“Was it pleasurable for you, Milord?” he asked.
“Very much so,” I responded, then chuckled at the improbability of this conversation, which would not have even occurred to me, that I would be in this position, a mere week ago.
“Oh, but what about you?” I asked, raising myself further to sit up. “Surely you must want—”
“Forgive my impertinence for interrupting you, but while I do very much want, my fondest wish was for this encounter to be focused on you. So that you might know what it feels to receive pleasure, that you would know what a gift it is.”
The thoughts I had set aside barged back into my mind.
“Am I inadequate? Do you not think me capable of delivering pleasure?” I frowned.
“Not at all, my dearest…” he paused. “I do not know your given name, Milord.”
“Ah. My father and sisters call me Belle-Belle. And you may, in private, as well.”
“Belle-Belle, then.” He raised himself up to sit next to me on the bed. I took in his magnificent form, and felt a strong desire to touch him. He followed my gaze down his body, to the rather large bulge in his pants.
“I do desire you, and I believe you would be perfectly adequate as a partner. But as I said, I wanted tonight to be about your sensations, your body, so that you would understand the height of what you should strive for and expect from a partner. But I may offer you a compromise.” He reached down, freed himself from his pants, and stroked his cock with one hand.
Fascinated, I looked down at it. “May I touch you?”
He chuckled, and used his free hand to draw me in for a deep kiss. “Another time, my dear Belle-Belle. Tonight, with the taste of you lingering on my lips, I shall touch myself and find a quick release. You may watch and see how I like to be touched.”
I curled up against him, pressing my body to his.
He leaned against the headboard of the bed, and he kissed me passionately.
I felt his breath coming in harder bursts as he ran his hand up and down the shaft of his cock.
It did not take long before he was shuddering and spurting, and I had opened my eyes to watch his release, to see the kinds of touch he liked.
“Did that feel good?” I whispered.
“Yes,” he sighed. “It has been a long time since I’ve touched a woman.”
I pulled back, searching his face. I could not imagine a scenario in which he was deficient.
“Benoit, my Strong Back, you must tell me why.”