It was months after their wedding day, Armand had not yet seen Margherite's bum. Before the nuptial ceremony, the Dupont Soleils' spiritual guide had reminded her of the duties she had toward her spouse. For fear of committing sin, she didn't dare disobey. However, before she would allow Armand to take off her underwear, their bedroom had to be all in the dark, candles unlit and the shutters pulled down. Finally, she claimed she would not take off her corset, and she would only allow to have it unhooked to breathe. The first night, frightened and ashamed, she fantasized she would throw herself off the cliff top, and Armand would live regretting his behaviour for the rest of his life.
Armand Lucas, a wine merchant, had married Margherite for two reasons: the aristocratic roundness of her ass and the title of countess.
He was to be sadly disillusioned.
One day, in a naive and innocent mood, he asked her:
── Margherite, tonight wouldn't you position yourself ass on air and bring me to ecstasy?
She did not understand, perhaps Armand wanted to make a fool of her naivete. She wouldn't allow it to him:
── On the air, Armand? No longer am I the disgraced female, who squanders your money in French novels? Am I now an angel, flying over you?
The explanations of Armand horrified her.
── Sir, you know my family, my religious upbringing, how can you dare to demand of me anything against nature? Your language is unbearable, if not disgusting. Have you forgotten that I am a Dupont Soleil?
And then came the revolution, the French Revolution. Farewell to the noble title, another disappointment for the good Armand. The Dupont Soleils had kept their heads on their necks. Because we are in the Vendee and they no longer have any money, having been cheated by their farmers and ruined by a slacker scion, their unscrupulous heir, Julien. Even the marriage of Armand and Margherite has helped save them from exile, because now the revolutionaries get bottles from the Lucas Wineries for
- JoinedOctober 13, 2014