From the Baroness's Diary: The erotic escapades of Baron Beardley's wife

Chapter 6

My Friend Collette

Mon Cher Journal,

This morning I received a letter from my friend Collette and I am so happy. But let me tell you a bit about my past first.

I spent my childhood with my parents in my grandparents' beautiful Loire chateau. All I remembered from that time was happy days playing with delicate porcelain dolls, riding lessons, and a couple of friends who were employees' children. When I was ten years old, my grandparents died in a car accident, and a black veil of sadness fell over my family. After a year of struggling, my parents had to sell the chateau to pay the many enraged men—debt collectors, I now know—who knocked on our doors night and day, demanding payment.

A few days after my eleventh birthday, my mother packed a small valise and took me on a one-day trip. She explained to me that I was going to study in a beautiful place with other girls my age. And just like that, she left me in a convent.

Les soeurs—the nuns—were nice but the life in the convent was too different from what I had known until then. There was no heat in the house and at night I was always cold. The food was very simple and not as abundant as I was used to. I had to study many hours and pray a couple more, plus clean my room, wash my clothes, and help the nuns working on the orchard.

After a while—months, I must say—I resigned myself to my fate, stopped crying, and decided I was going to be happy there, despite everything. It was the best decision I could have reached because I made great friends, and met my best friend, Collette Dupont, who is almost one year younger than me.

Collette is very beautiful: long blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a cupid mouth. She is the daughter of a wealthy businessman who has a well-known Bordeaux winery.

Sometimes—once every three months, more or less—her father, along with his young wife, who was not Collette's mother, would come and take her for a weekend.

All of us girls anticipated the arrival of Monsieur and Madame Dupont with much more alacrity than Collette herself, as she didn't like her stepmother. Her father would bring bottles of wine—to the nuns, of course—and sweets, cakes, breads, pies, cheeses, meats, and all scrumptious foods of our dreams, and also a new dress for each of us. Nothing as lavish or beautiful as the ones the baron bought for my trousseau. They were in plain colors, with no frills, but they were new, and in the winter, we always got wool socks, too. Monsieur Dupont would donate money to the convent and life would get a little better during the following month.

For Collette's fifteenth birthday, Madame and Monsieur Dupont took all of us—and the nuns—to lunch in a beautiful restaurant and then to a park.

One day, when Collette came back after the weekend, she had a different gleam in her blue eyes. After the lights were off and we were sure the nuns were sleeping soundly, we all gathered on Collette's bed and listened speechless as she told us she had been kissed.

In minute details, she told us all about Jean, her stepmother's brother, who was in love with her.

Full of herself, she disclosed in a whisper, "Men have something between their legs entirely different from what us girls have."

The hushed 'Oohs!' and 'Ahs!' which came out of our mouths had her smiling secretly.

"Something in the nature of a stick, which grows and gets hard when touched. And it is provided for the express purpose of being inserted in our holes. Jean told me that when so inserted, both parties enjoy ineffable delights."

To this comment, a few girls' hands went down nightgowns looking for said hole. While others grimaced, surely remembering Eve's sin.

We had many questions to which she had no answers because Jean had not showed her his 'instrument of delight' yet.

Three months never passed so slowly as we all waited with bated breath for Monsieur Dupont to come and get Collette for her weekend off. The following Sunday night, we were all again gathered around Collette, and this time, her words were pregnant with romance as the story was about a full day with Jean, who was described as the most handsome, gallant, and virile gentleman in the world. But as much as we were interested in her love story, we were dying to hear the salacious details.

"He rowed us to the small island and asked me if I wanted to rest a bit on the sand, to which I agreed. We sat down on the sand and he bent over me, kissing me, and then, and then..."

Even in the dark we could see the elated look on her face.

"He slipped a hand under the hem of my blouse and held onto my breast, and asked me if I would give him the honor to kiss it." We all oohed and aahed and she giggled. "I never knew my blouse had so many buttons!"

Collette told us how he had kissed both of her breasts and sucked both of her nipples while proffering oaths of love and praises for her beauty. She also told us—now with a bit of strangeness in her voice—how she had rubbed his 'instrument of delight' and that it had leaked a white sticky liquid in her hand, and despite our questions she didn't elaborate on it.

Three more months passed, and the tale became even more romantic as Collette said Jean had proposed. And now she told us about a spot—my special button the baron rubs and gives me so much pleasure—and how she had loved it when he had touched her there.

"I can show you how to do it," she proposed. To our nods, she waved her hand, motioning for us to move, so she could raise her nightgown. She took off her panties—Collette had never used drawers—and spread her legs.

Our eyes were fixed on her finger as she began to demonstrate: she opened herself and began rubbing and raising her hips. Then she put her own hand over her mouth to muffle a little moan and slumped in bed, panting. She smiled at us and said, "You should try."

I did later, but I didn't manage to achieve what the baron does so well.

Three months later, Collette didn't come back after her weekend off. On Monday, after the evening prayer, we were all called to a meeting with the nuns and the abbess. After a brief stern explanation of the sins of the flesh, Mère Claire told us we should all pray for Collette.

Hushed lucubrations about what really happened to Collette abounded in the silent convent until I received a letter from my friend almost five months later.

Monsieur Dupont had found them in flagrant delict! Seems Jean didn't want to marry Collette, just to use her. But Monsieur Dupont had used his persuasion skills, offering the young man a position at the family's winery and a generous dowry, and so Jean agreed to the wedding. They married in secret, but Collette said she was loving her married life and that we had to get together so she could tell me all about it.

I can't wait for her to arrive.