There are many stories where Jean and Lucien get together, and quite often there is a back line that Christopher was not, shall we say, an adventurous lover. He's usually portrayed as rather selfish in that regard. This story is set as Jean embarks on her first marriage, and how she takes to being a wife, for the first time.

The idea of Jean not knowing much comes from stories my dear mother-in-law has told me, which makes me wonder how she actually managed to get pregnant, she admits she was clueless!

Thanks to Crinklybrownleaves for the heads up on Jean's maiden name.

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The excitement of the day was still on the young Mrs Beazley as she and her husband boarded the train for their short honeymoon in Melbourne. They could not be away too long because they were taking over the farm, letting his parents leave and enjoy retirement.

They found a quiet carriage, but they were still not alone so some pre-wedding night kissing was out. She had to admit to a little disappointment but at least he held her hand, which before today he would not have done, well, not in public anyway. She thought back to their courtship, conservative, Catholic in the extreme, kissing was allowed, hugging, of course but not 'going too far' whatever that was. She'd heard of girls who did so and ended up in the family way, but her mother had been unforthcoming when the young Jean had asked what she meant by 'too far'. Which was no help because then she didn't know if she had gone 'too far'. She had had to ask a very close school friend who had only said,

'Don't let him touch you 'there',' pointing to a vague area at the top of her legs.

Christopher had never bothered to touch her there, or attempt to, he was quite happy to kiss her and put his hand round her waist, he did, once, touch her breast, through her sweater, but she had jumped and he hadn't done it again.

And there was the wedding night, she hadn't a clue what would happen right up until the morning of the wedding and then her mother had given her some old towels, 'for the bed', which confused Jean and then just whispered something vague about Christopher having some part of his body that would get hard and he would put it in that 'forbidden place.' Jean had blushed furiously, even though she knew boys were built differently than girls, she'd sneaked a look in an art book in the library and there were pictures of classical statues, so she knew what was different, anatomy-wise but, hard, nah! She wished her brother didn't lock his bedroom door or the bathroom one. He had a girlfriend and she caught them kissing one night in the living room, and his hand was up her skirt. She'd been seen and her brother had grabbed her by the arm and told her that if she told their parents he'd make her sorry.

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Their hotel was not grand, just small and a little insignificant. But it wasn't Ballarat so it was better.

She unpacked her small suitcase and offered to do his. He just nodded. She folded his pyjamas and put them on the bed, next to her new nightdress. She usually wore pyjamas but when her mother put her trousseau together she said a nightdress was more suitable.

She went to his side and took his hand. He was staring out of the window.

'Christopher?' She whispered.

'Hm, yes, just looking at the view,' he looked at her, thinking he ought to say something romantic, 'but the view in here is...nicer.' Thank god she dragged him to those awful soppy movies. He had to admit she did look pretty in her going-away outfit of a blue suit, that fitted rather well. He knew he was lucky to have, in his friends words, 'bagged the Randall girl', she was the prettiest in the town.

'Shall we go to dinner?' He suggested, it was too early to go to bed, if that was what she was hoping. He knew she was a virgin and he'd only been with a woman once. His father had suggested it in joke, but Christopher hadn't seen it as such, and had been given all the worst farm jobs for a week as punishment. He had assured his father there would be no come back, she'd made him use a johnny.

'If you like.' She smiled shyly.

Dinner was pleasant, neither were accustomed to drinking wine, even though they'd had champagne at the wedding; her parents had insisted; so they stuck to water and Jean didn't want to be drunk on her wedding night.

Christopher suggested a short stroll, get some fresh air, so she agreed all the while wondering why he wasn't doing what she had seen in some movies and read in books, that is whisk her off to their room and undress her. Still she had been brought up to respect her man and she didn't want their first night together to end in a row.

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They finally found themselves in their room. Jean took her hat off and hung her jacket up and took Christopher's jacket and hung it beside hers in the wardrobe.

'Would you like to use the bathroom first?' He asked.

'Yes, alright.' So it looked like she wouldn't be dreamily undressed. She took her nightdress and matching negligee and went down the hall to prepare herself.

She returned and he took his pyjamas and robe and went to change. She put her clothes away and put the towels on the bed, as he mother had, almost, directed, she reckoned about bottom area. she got into bed and lay there waiting for him to come to her.

Christopher returned and put his clothes away then got into bed beside her. He looked at her she smiled. He turned on his side facing her and pulled her close, drawing her into a deeper kiss than he had ever done before, even using his tongue. He tasted of toothpaste. She wriggled closer and put her arms round him.

He pushed her onto her back continuing to kiss her and she felt his hand stroke her breast, over her nightdress. She rather liked it then she gasped as he put his hand inside the garment and squeezed her nipple. She stiffened, then as he looked at her, she relaxed and let him continue.

She decided she'd better do something so she put her hand inside his top, finding smooth skin, firm but not too muscular, just enough. While she was stroking his chest she felt something move against her leg from between his legs. Was that what her mother meant? That was what was hard? She felt his hand run down her body and lift her nightdress and slip between her legs. She froze. He looked at her.

'It's ok, Jean,' He said, gently, 'this is what's meant to happen, you're my wife now.'

'Right, ok, then.' She tried to relax as he went back to touching her. When he thought she was ready he moved his hand away and pulled his pyjama bottoms down then moved over her parting her legs and...it all happened so fast and it hurt. By the time she had registered what he was doing it was all over and he rolled off her, turning over and going to sleep.

She lay there stunned, between her legs she could see why her mother has given her old towels for the first time, to be thrown away afterwards. But, was that it? Was that what she had dreamed about? Why wasn't she told it would hurt? She turned over and cried silent tears until she slept, a dreamless sleep.

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She went to the bathroom before Christopher awoke and had a soothing bath. She was sore and wondered if he would do the same again that night. Would it get easier after the first time? God, she hoped so, but at least she had a better idea of what was going to happen. Perhaps she could slow him down a little.

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Christopher heard her come back into the room. She had obviously bathed and dressed in the bathroom.

Mornin',' he said, 'you ok?'

'Yes, fine,' she answered trying to sound so, 'are you?'

'Yeah.' He grinned, he had no idea how disappointed she was.

'Shall I ring down for some tea?' She asked.

'Yeah, I'll go and wash.' He grabbed his robe and sauntered out of the room. She'd learn, he thought, it was her first time and she was only seventeen, he was a masterly nineteen. Kidding himself he was some kind of lothario.

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So, did it get any better for Jean?

I'm sorry if you think she's ridiculously naive but after what my mother-in-law told me, and she was born in 1933, maybe Jean's mother was as communicative as hers.