Jeanne had moved into this house with her parents 1 year ago. The 18-year-old knew she would be leaving this house in a few years, once she was married. Her mother was looking to introduce her to various parties... She would thus go from daughter to mother... But in the meantime, she could still enjoy life as a young girl.

While her mother sought to marry Jeanne off, she did not intend her daughter to “associate” with gentlemen beyond a decent court. Not only was it out of the question for her to “celebrate Easter before Palm Sunday”, as the saying went, but Jeanne had been kept in the dark about the physical side of the marriage. Oh, sure, she'd heard things... She'd seen a dog covering a bitch, a bull covering a cow... She knew that the woman had to spread her legs...

That day, Jeanne's family was taking in Étienne, the son of a friend of Jeanne's father. They had put him up in a little-used guest room next door to Jeanne's. Jeanne had woken up early in the morning. Jeanne woke up early. The occupant of the room next door had also woken up and gone to the bathroom. No doubt he was going to get dressed afterwards? Then she had an idea.

The partition between the two rooms was in fact largely made up of two closets, one open to one of the rooms, the other to the other. Now, she had noticed that at the back of her closet there was a slit in the wood. This waist-high slit was not easily discernible from the other side (she had checked when she realized its existence), since a pile of blankets was usually stored at its height. What if...

Taking great precautions, darkening her own room by closing shutters and curtains, she pulled back the blankets and settled in. It wasn't very comfortable, but you could see.

The young man returned. She expected him to undress, but he did not. He reclined on the bed and ran his hand through his pyjama bottoms. Finally, he pulled out his swollen penis.

Jeanne watched, dumbfounded. She'd just wanted to see a naked young man changing, she hadn't expected that.

Oh, of course Jeanne wasn't a total white goose. She'd “touched” herself, she'd even been spanked by her mother who'd caught her with her hand under her nightdress - and she'd learned to conceal herself better. She knew that boys “touched” each other too, a friend had mimed it to her. But she'd never seen it for real, and of course didn't know the details. She watched carefully.

Étienne had grabbed the skin of his penis and was wielding it back and forth, sliding it over the tip. He seemed in no hurry. He passed his other hand under her buttocks. Jeanne frowned - was he touching... his anus?

Although her mother had told Jeanne not to touch her front except for wiping and washing, the ban naturally extended to her reputedly dirty backside. Jeanne had an ambivalent relationship with this area: as a child, she didn't mind applying the greased thermometer, but she had hated the “soap skittles” designed to induce a bowel movement despite constipation. She had sometimes stuck her finger in the entrance... and even tried deeper, with the help of grease.

Jeanne's thoughts were interrupted by a novelty in the show. Étienne had removed his hand from her buttocks and was using it to rub his penis, while with the other hand he was weighing his bursa. Jeanne took note.

Jeanne's posture in the closet was a little unsteady and uncomfortable, and she was captivated by the spectator. A clumsy movement of recovery caused a bar intended for hanging clothes in the closet to fall over. The noise attracted Étienne's attention. Jeanne panicked, making even more noise as she withdrew from the closet.

Étienne, after staring at the closet for a moment without moving from the bed, went back to his work. As for Jeanne, she didn't dare come any closer.

That day, Jeanne felt embarrassed when she bumped into Étienne. She wondered if his nervousness was reflected in his responses and attitudes. She tried to avoid him, but bumped into him in the garden, just as she was about to prune some rosebushes. However, she didn't think he'd realized her indiscreet observations, which is why she was completely unprepared for this dialogue.

“Jeanne, do you know what I found in my partition?

- No, Étienne? (her voice betrayed her discomfort)

- A hole in the wood. And guess where it leads?

- I... I don't know.

- In your closet! Isn't that wildly amusing?

- Uh, sure.

- Can you believe it? Someone could look through that hole and see what's going on in the next room!

- That would be... that would be very indiscreet.”

Jeanne's unease was palpable.

“Do you think so? And isn't that because when you want to see something, you should ask politely and not hide, right?”

Jeanne didn't know where to put herself, and nodded.

“For example, if you wanted to see something, would you be willing to ask?”

Jeanne was at a loss for words.

“I suppose that would be the polite thing to do.

- Well, why don't you do it?

- What's that supposed to mean?

- Jeanne, you know very well what I mean. If you want something, why don't you ask for it politely?”

Jeanne paled. To put on a brave face, she continued to work on the rosebush. She sensed, however, that Étienne was waiting for an answer from her. She took his hand again.

“Make yourself useful and go and get the wheelbarrow over there, so you can help me carry the bags of potting soil.

Étienne complied, and Jeanne congratulated herself on her reply. Not only did using Étienne as a gardening assistant transform the dynamic of their conversation, it also gave them a sense of composure. If they'd kept on chatting and her mother had seen them, no doubt she'd have deduced that Étienne was just flirting with her. Perhaps she saw him as a party for her? She might as well put on a brave face.

While Étienne was doing some handling, Jeanne explained her situation.

“Étienne... If you must know. I'm 18, my parents want to marry me off. I... I've never seen a naked man... except for little children. Do you understand if I ask around?

- Yes, I understand.

- So yes, Étienne, I'm asking politely. Next time you... you do what you were doing this morning, could you let me take a look?

- If you're interested, yes.

- Will you let me know?

- I certainly will.”

The next morning, Jeanne got up, a little intimidated. Was Étienne going to... She heard him return from the bathroom, then heard his finger tapping on the closet. Her heart pounded. She set up her observation post.

As he had done the day before, Étienne took out his penis and began to manipulate it. When it was hard, he manipulated the skin back and forth, back and forth... The spectacle was captivating, especially as he had positioned himself on the bed as close as possible to the eyepiece.

Jeanne wondered about the turgid organ she was seeing. Something like that would surely tear her, she thought... she could barely get a finger into her orifice, and with some discomfort...

The show went on. Étienne was in no hurry... And then, at some point, his breathing became hoarser, he accelerated his movement, and a white fluid gushed from his penis and spread over his hand. He wiped it off with a handkerchief, then nodded in the direction of the woodwork behind which Jeanne was standing.

“So this is the famous seed,” Jeanne thought to herself. Here was an “object lesson” she'd never have been shown at school... Had he been enjoying himself? She promised herself she'd take a better look at his face next time, if there was to be a next time.

The young man and woman avoided each other for the rest of the morning. At breakfast, Étienne began:

“You were reading this morning, weren't you? I saw you yesterday picking up a history book on Louis XIV...

- Hum hum.”

Indeed, she had come across it the day before in the family library. But it wasn't history he was going to talk about.

“And has this morning been instructive for you?

- Uh-huh.

- I was just asking because sometimes you're disappointed...

- Not at all. I'm going to continue reading this book tomorrow morning!”

And the next morning, the scene was repeated. Jeanne watched Étienne's face as he pleasured her. She wondered what she herself looked like in such circumstances... She mostly touched herself in the dark, when she was supposed to be asleep, since that time she'd been surprised by her mother... but if she did it in the light, what would she look like?

They did it again the following day. This time, Étienne turned on his side and put his hand behind him to touch his anus? That evening, while masturbating, Jeanne also put a finger behind him and touched his anus. It was so... unseemly and at the same time so exciting.

The next morning, she couldn't stand it any longer, so she put her hand in the cupboard and touched herself, observing the scene. She even inserted her finger, albeit cautiously, into the orifice she was supposed to be reserving for her future husband. She wondered, once again, if she'd be torn apart by his penis.

Later that day, when she came across Étienne, she put into action an idea she'd been mulling over since she learned of her mother's plans.

“You know my father won't be home by Sunday. Tomorrow morning, my mother is going to a friend's house, and the maid will be at the market. Wouldn't this be a good time to look more directly at the issues at hand?

- Yes, it would.

- Don't tire yourself out too much before then.”

If Jeanne didn't know much yet, she knew that she herself, after having touched herself to the point of pleasure, lacked the zest to do it again. She surmised, with good reason, that the same was true of the gentlemen. Étienne nodded.

The next day, Jeanne waited until she was sure her mother and the maid had left, and went to find Étienne when he came out of the bathroom.

“Étienne, I'm sure you'll think I'm abusing your kindness, but I'd like to... well... Understand that sometimes we like to see up close and hold rather than observe only from afar...

- I understand that.

- But I wouldn't want to commit myself to more than observation and manipulation...

- Don't worry, haven't I shown you enough that I'm a gentleman?

- May I join you in your room in a minute?

- Yes...”

A blushing Jeanne arrived at Étienne's with a towel in her hand, which she spread out on the bed.

“I think you'll have to take off your pants... and your underpants.”

Étienne complied. It was the first time she'd seen a naked man (bottom naked, that is) up close. She could now see the penis with far more precision than through the slit in the closet. She bent down, looked at the texture of the skin...

“Can I touch it?

- Please.”

Jeanne took the penis, feeling the texture of the skin. She lifted it to look underneath, bringing up the bursa. She looked at them. Intrigued, she ran her hand underneath and lightly palpated them - she was certainly very inexperienced, but knew from various hints that these were sensitive parts that needed to be handled with care. The skin was soft.

“Lie down comfortably.”

She took hold of the penis which, under her manipulations, was beginning to harden. Following Etienne's example, she moved her hand, pulling the skin, uncapping the purplish glans. As she had done with the bursa, she lifted the penis to inspect the glans from another angle. All this contributed to making the thing bigger. Étienne, perhaps to put on a brave face, said.

“Don't worry, I've washed...

- Thank you!”

The texture of the glans was surprisingly smooth and a little shiny. Jeanne thought back to a conversation with a friend who had confided in her what privacies she had indulged in with a boy, at his request... She wouldn't have another opportunity to do so between now and her wedding, probably, and perhaps she'd like to know before then whether it was an activity to be encouraged or discouraged...

“Étienne, may I kiss you now?

- Please do...”

Jeanne placed a small kiss on the exposed glans. No unpleasant taste or smell, an interesting texture, she placed a second kiss. Then, growing bolder, she began to suck on the thing. It filled her lips, it was warm, it was soft...

She was aware of her arousal, that something was happening in her panties. She wondered what it would be like to feel a rod, this rod, pressing into her belly. But this couldn't happen right now, it would be madness.

Étienne's rod was now hardened. Jeanne admired it, then masturbated it as she had seen Étienne do... She looked proudly and... tenderly into his eyes. She emboldened herself.

“Forgive me but I'd seen you... how shall I put it, when you... you were touching yourself, touching... your bottom. May I?”

Étienne was a little embarrassed. So, she had seen him...

“If you like. I've washed.

- Then raise your knees and spread your legs a little.”

Étienne obeyed. Jeanne passed her hand under his bursa, and explored the crack of his buttocks with her finger. It was fun to feel the little crumpled hole, the first she'd explored apart from her own. With her other hand, she continued to masturbate him. She leaned over to suck him a little again.

She had somewhat premeditated this intimate gesture. She wondered if she should take the next step... but after all she wouldn't risk having any more opportunities...

She withdrew her hand from Etienne's crotch and discreetly searched for the pot she'd carried in her apron pocket. She had to take her other hand away from his penis to open it, attracting the boy's astonished gaze. Was she mistaken, she wondered, had she misinterpreted Étienne's gestures, would he refuse this caress?

She anointed her finger, showed it to Etienne without a word, so he could refuse if necessary, and slowly introduced it into the young man's anus. It was hot, it squeezed his finger, it was exciting. With her other hand, she resumed masturbation. The anus occasionally contracted, causing the penis to spasm. Étienne kept his eyes half-closed...

The open-legged position Jeanne had made Étienne adopt reminded her of the one she'd heard described for women during lovemaking. This confused her: she was penetrating Étienne in much the same way as a man would penetrate a woman... She sucked him a little more, then took him in her hand again and accelerated the movement.

A viscous, warm, whitish liquid flowed from the penis onto her hand, while the young man's sphincter tensed then relaxed. She felt a great sense of pride.

She wiped her semen-stained hand and the finger protruding from her anus on the towel, then used it to clean the penis.

“Étienne, did you like it? Did I do it right?

- You were divine.”

It was time to remove the traces of this action. The towel was promptly washed before the other inhabitants returned.

The young woman and the young man continued an openly friendly relationship, but with all due respect, until the end of her stay. Jeanne's mother was pleased: Étienne was from a good family... The relationship continued by letter. An engagement and a beautiful wedding followed.

Jeanne had wondered what it would feel like to have Étienne's penis in her belly. The first time was a mixture of discomfort (she bled a little), pleasure (but not orgasm) and a troubled feeling of abandonment (legs wide open, pressed against the bed, rammed in rhythm...). She and Etienne had agreed that he would not ejaculate inside her, to avoid a premature pregnancy. He withdrew and began to lick her. She was unfamiliar with this caress, but quickly understood its benefits. Jeanne came, for the first time by anything other than his hand.

We had to think about Étienne, she told herself. She began to suck him. She could feel the taste of her vagina in her mouth, the taste of a woman receiving her husband. Her finger made the same gesture in Étienne's anus as she had just undergone coitus. Étienne opened up.

“You really have a beautiful penis. Are you going to give it to me often?”