The Stableboy

This is one of a series of stories that revolve around the hand-rolled cigar and the men who use them, smoke them and make them, and it was inspired by the following paragraph-

During the same period, cigar smoking had become so popular among gentlemen in Britain and France that European trains introduced smoking cars to accommodate them, and hotels and clubs boasted smoking rooms. The after-dinner cigar, accompanied by glasses of port or brandy, also became a tradition. This ritual was given an added boost by the fact that the Prince of Wales, the future Edward VII and a leader of fashion, was a devotee, much to the annoyance of his mother, Queen Victoria, who disliked smoking.

Quote from "The History of Cigars."i

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Lady Evangeline, like Queen Victoria, disliked smoking. Unfortunately her husband, Lord Waverly, had been introduced to the custom of an after-dinner cigar while he was attending the sittings of the House of Lords in the year 1886. That year the debate over the Home Rule Bill for Ireland had been strenuous work, and shared discussion and relaxation with his fellow Peers over a glass of vintage port and a fine cigar after a hard day of political debate had been important. So, upon returning to the family seat, he had brought home with him his new habit-and a fine collection of cigars.

"I will not have that filthy habit in this house, Dorley," Lade Evangeline had said to her husband on the very first evening of his return. When after dinner Lord Waverly had settled back in his favourite chair and lit up. "The furnishings and I simply won't tolerate it," she added, gliding elegantly over and removing the cigar from his mouth, and then just as gracefully tossing it onto the fire, which burned merrily in the grate of the small retiring room they used in the evenings.

"But, bu . . .bu. . . ," Dorley stammered. "But the Prince of Wales-Bertie-smokes several a day, my dear. In the club it's a ritual; a gentlemen just has to smoke at least one cigar a day to be seen as worth knowing nowadays."

"If you must smoke, Dorley, well then you must find some place to pursue this habit so that the . . . smoke does not pollute the house."

Because Lady Evangeline was a woman of strong will and a sharp tongue, Dorley replied, "Yes, Dear. As it's a pleasant evening, I think I'll take a walk about the grounds then." And he pulled himself up out of his comfortable chair, took a fresh cigar from the box and some vespas, and took himself into the gardens.

Fortunately for Dorley, it was late summer at the time and the walk was most agreeable. But unfortunately, within a few weeks, the weather was turning cool, and by the time he was ready to indulge his after-dinner habit, it was becoming a bit too cold and dark to be roaming the grounds. Lord Waverly pondered this briefly before turning his steps to the fine stable building that stood behind the main house, and where quite a few fine horses were kept in great comfort.

He quickly discovered that the stable was the warmest place he could go to to smoke, so he took to taking his nightly cigar there and inspecting the fine thoroughbreds he kept while he savoured the smoke of his equally fine cigar.

The stable boys had a small cast iron stove that heated one end of the stable and that they sat about in their breaks. And as it got colder, his lordship often spent some time sitting by it, always alone, as was proper, and enjoying the gentle snuffling and blowing of the horse, the smell of healthy horseflesh, and the warmth, as he puffed on his cigar.

It was on such a night, but one when he had wandered into the stable later than usual, and unobserved, when he discovered Lionel's secret. It was actually no secret to many in Dorley's household and even Lady Evangeline had heard the maids discussing it. But Lord Waverly was a man of little experience, or interest, in sexual matters having seen immeasurably more nakedness in the British museums collection of Greek marbles than he ever had in real life. Even Lady Evangeline's body remained largely a mystery to him. It was common knowledge that his lordship was generally more concerned with matters of fashion and style and business than with estate gossip. Lady Evangeline also disapproved of gossip and may have heard about Lionel but would never have mentioned such a matter to her husband.

But on this night as Dorley sat puffing, leaning back in a comfortable chair that had appeared by the small stove on his second visit there, he heard voices and rustling in one of the further stalls and went to investigate-more from having nothing else to do than any great curiosity.

And then he discovered it. One of the stable boys was standing behind a young woman bending over with her skirts pulled up about her head and her drawers at her ankles, revealing her plump pink bottom and legs. And gliding in and out of her was Lionel's secret. Not that Dorley at that time knew it was Lionel's, though he assumed he was one of his stable boys. Lord Waverly gaped at what the young man had, his cigar forgotten and burning to ash as he watched Lionel's huge dick pumping the young woman.

The young woman's moans increased in frequency and pitch and became high squeals, and then she let out a big sigh. Lionel's hips beat faster against her backside until he pulled out, and Dorley's jaw dropped even lower as he saw Lionel in his full glory and the stable lad shot his seed in a long trail across the young woman's bottom and up to the roof.

Yes, Lionel had a whopper. Even if Lord Waverly had heard the rumours his wife, Lady Evangeline, had heard, he would still have been amazed.

The young woman pushed down her skirts and turned and Lionel squeezed a breast as they kissed long and deep. Then the young woman pulled up her drawers and retied them while Lionel pulled up his woollen trousers and rebuttoned the fly and slipped his braces over his shoulders. Lionel straightened her maid's cap for her and she asked him, "When can we meet again?"

Dorley suddenly remembered the burning cigar in his hand and tiptoed guiltily back to the small stove and sat down as if he had been there all the time. But his mind wasn't with it. Even the fine cigar couldn't distract him from the memory of what he had just seen, and he had to unbutton his own fly and reach in-after checking to see no one was watching-and pull out his own engorging dick and fist it to completion.

That night he entered Lady Evangeline's bed and gave her a merry humping, such as he hadn't done for months, if not years.

The next night Dorley was nervous as he left the house and headed for the stables. There was a part of him that wanted to see what Lionel had and what he did with it again, and a part that strongly dissaproved. He had spoken to his head groom, Mr Peterson, casually about the stable staff and after listening to Peterson tell him what trouble he was having deciding who to promote to be his assistant groom, since the previous one had just died of typhoid fever, Dorley discovered there were six stable lads and now had a list of names on a piece of paper in his pocket. He had even spent part of the day trying to surreptitiously determine which stable boy he had watched the previous night. But without success.

Now he approached his stables full of nervous excitement and was more interested in listening for voices and rustlings noises the horses didn't make, than in savouring his fine hand-rolled Cuban cigar. He was smoking one of five that had arrived just that day from the Duke of Westerbrook. They had been sent him as a gift, along with a note announcing that Westerbrook would like the pleasure of visiting Lord Waverly shortly. Dorley had sent an immediate invitation and was intrigued as to what had prompted the famous man's urge to visit him, as Westerbrook was one of the most fashionable men in London, a familiar of the Prince of Wales, and a great patron of the arts.

All in all Dorley had far too many things on his mind and sat on long after his cigar had burnt to ash and the butt end had been consigned to the small cast iron stove he sat near. But nothing happened that night.

The next night it happened again; he heard murmurs and rustlings not made by any horse, and he cautiously approached the noises. The sound of human voices moaning making him tremble. They were in a more distant stall this time, and it took Dorley some time to locate them in the shadows of the stable, away from the lamp hanging by the stove. In the dim light Dorley at first thought he was watching a rerun of the previous nights copulating, the huge penis of the stable body seemingly pumping in and out from between the pale round cheeks of a young woman's firm bottom. But when they were done and Lionel's seed had been spouted across the bent over body before him and his partner stood up, Dorley felt himself blush from head to toe. Because it was only then, when they stood up and began pulling their trousers up that he realised he had been watching two young men at it. They both buttoned up their heavy workman's trousers and slipped their braces back over their shoulders, then kissed, and Lionel's companion asked "When can we meet again?"

Dorley gulped at hearing the question and fled back to the safety of his comfortable chair and the warm stove. But as had happened the previous time he had watched Lionel, he had to release his throbbing pole and gain release from the pressure built up inside him.

Dorley had been an only son and kept at home all his life, where he had been raised by a nanny and taught by two firm, but fair tutors. He knew he was not particularly intelligent and had led a sheltered youth. He had rarely seen another man's penis flaccid, and before seeing Lionel's monster had never seen one fully erect. And now he had seen that one of his stable boys had an erection such as he had never imagined could exist Dorley's mind was in a whirl. That night he again gave his wife, Lady Evangeline, a vigorous humping, and she responded unusually vocally.

The next day he discovered that the stable boy with the mammoth dick was Lionel. But after two more evening visits to the barn, Dorley had seen no more of Lionel and his fucking activities.

Then Lord Westerbrook arrived, and there was a large dinner for all the ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood. But so that Lady Evangeline wouldn't be forced to tolerate smoking in her house, Dorley took his honoured guest and the other smoking gentlemen out to the stables. There they inspected the fine thoroughbreds Dorley kept before sitting about the small stove on folding chairs set up there for the occasion while puffing on their cigars, drinking brandy and port brought across from the house, and discussing business and politics. Dorley beamed happily as Lord Westerbrook told him he had been impressed by the horseflesh and nodded approvingly.

The following afternoon Lord Westerbrook took himself off for an after-lunch cigar. Dorley considered joining him, but Lady Evangeline gave him such a look of disapproval that he made an excuse. Lord Westerbrook's generous assurance he was happy to take a stroll alone for an hour or two, to walk off the delightful lunch and enjoy his smoke was a great relief to Dorley. Lord Waverly instead went to visit his estate manger and discuss the repair of some tenant's cottages damaged in a recent storm.

The next day Lady Evangeline was called away to visit her sister who had suddenly taken ill. Consequently, the two gentlemen were left to their own devices.

Westerbrook hurried out immediately after lunch, "Time to go to the stables to enjoy my cigar, old man. What, ho," he shot at Dorley.

After dithering for a few minutes, Dorley decided to join him and took a cigar from the box and headed to the stables. But when he arrived at the stove, there was no one in sight, so he left his unlit cigar on the barrel that served the stable lads as a table, and wandered between the stalls and patted the noses of the horses he knew. Near the end of the row, though, he stopped; he had heard noises, but more-he could see two figures, and he scuttled back a few steps into the shadows. But he didn't leave; instead, he stood there mesmerised.

Inside the far stall he saw a man and with a shock he realised that it was Westerbrook. Yes, his lordship was standing naked, a pale thin body with a heavy coating of dark hair running up his torso, and he was removing Lionel's trousers in a very odd way. Westerbrook's hand had been at the buttons but then he was on his knees before the stable lad, slowly unbuttoning his fly still, but also nuzzling it as Lionel stood staring down at him and played a hand gingerly in his lordship's hair.

Once enough buttons had been parted, Westerbrook nuzzled his face deeper into the fly of Lionel's trousers and the stable lad swayed slightly and moaned. Then his lordship was reaching in and pulling Lionel's half-hard sausage free. Dorley almost couldn't believe his eyes.

"God, I thought it was a monster yesterday. How big will it get today, boy?" Westerbrook asked as he held the stable lad's huge penis in his hand, gripping it and bringing his mouth down to it.

He kissed the end of it. Then it was his pink tongue snaking out to lick the head of Lionel's cock and slobber all around it and slide up and down the firm thick shaft. Lionel was obviously affected, as he now ran both hands roughly through his lordship's hair and was moving his hips in a back and forth motion and panting. Even from where he was, Dorley could see and hear that he was panting, and also see that the sausage had grown to its full size under the attentions of his lordship.

And Dorley could see the shine of the saliva that Westerbrook left coating the stable lad's cock as he licked it. Dorley stood dumbstruck as he watched what followed.

Westerbrook now opened his mouth, and the sausage disappeared into it slowly at first and moved in and out as he still gripped its root. But it finally disappeared completely. How he didn't choke on such a thing was a miracle Dorley might have thought, if he was capable of thought just then. Instead, he watched as Westerbrook began to deep throat that massive tool. Bobbing his head up and down on it as Lionel's fingers tangled in his hair.

But suddenly Lord Westerbrook pulled off Lionel's piece and looked at what he was swallowing. "My god, even bigger than yesterday. Even bigger than old randy Randall told me it was," he exclaimed, before opening his mouth and again sucking the huge thing in until there was only the root left outside his lordship's mouth.

Dorley was more than stunned by all this; he was past any emotion now as he pulled his own throbbing tool from his own unbuttoned fly and jerked his fist up and down it rapidly, with his other hand pressed over his mouth so he didn't make any sounds. He came in an explosion of cum that seemed to pulse out endlessly across the cobbled floor of the stable.

Inside the stall Westerbrook had given up his lollipop and stood up, and was now lying himself back on some hay bales and lifting and parting his legs.

"Do me this way today," he ordered in a commanding voice.

The stable boy rapidly shed his trousers, saying, "Whatever you want, my Lord," politely but rather mumbling it as he walked in between Lord Westerbrook's spread thighs and probed the hole before him with saliva soaked fingers while his other hand went to fisting his lordship rather slowly. What His Lordship had was far from small itself, Dorley observed at this time.

Then it was the flared purple head of his cock that Lionel was positioning at Westerbrook's hair-rimmed arsehole. Once he'd slowly dragged the head around Westerbrook's puckered rim, and again, then . . . he punched it in. Dorley almost fainted as Lord Westerbrook arched and jerked and cried, "Yeow," but then His Lordship was yelling, "Harder boy. Harder. Faster."

Lionel did as he was bid and pounded his hefty meat long and hard in and out of Lord Westerbrook's rear entry. So long and hard that Dorley actually felt himself harden up again and had to stroke off again, spilling a dribble of seed onto the cold stone floor.

The finale in the stall came soon after. Lionel slamming his hips against his Lordship's arse, while fisting Westerbrook's cock. The peer grasped at his own nipples and shouted, "Ride me. Ride me. Fuck, I'm coming," and spouted his cream all up his belly and over his chest. At the same time, Dorley witnessed the familiar stiffening and sudden shuddering jerks that signaled Lionel's own release.

Lionel pulled free soon after, but Westerbrook wasn't done. "Lick it up boy, all of it," the Lord ordered, and when Lionel looked confused he ordered him roughly, "Get on your knees boy. Lick your cum up as it oozes out of my arse, boy."

Lionel hesitated, and Westerbrook aimed a kick at his balls and repeated his instructions adding, "I've told you already that I'll ruin you if you don't satisfy me."

Lord Waverly was shocked. He was outraged in fact that a guest in his house should treat one of his staff in such a way. Lionel hurried to comply and vigorously licked between the thighs and butt cheeks of his Lordship until there was nothing left to lick up. And Dorley watched, fascinated, both aroused by the sight but repelled by Westerbrook's incivility.

As they dressed afterwards, Dorley heard Lord Westerbrook making Lionel an offer he was unlikely to refuse. "What are you paid here?" he asked Lionel.

"Five pounds a year, my Lord, " the stable boy replied hurrying to get his boots on.

"You'll come and be my stable boy," Westerbrook said and laughed loudly, "I'll give you twenty pounds a year. I'll speak to the head groom right away and arrange it," he added, and Dorley, who had finally regained some of his senses, hurried away before he was discovered.

Dorley could hardly look at Westerbrook when that gentleman reappeared in the drawing room for afternoon tea, looking as immaculate and superior as ever. And after dinner the two gentlemen retired to the stable for a cigar as usual but smoked in near silence before returning to the house and immediately retiring.

The next day Westerbrook went out early and returned bad tempered, he went out for an after lunch cigar but was back in under half an hour, and that night at dinner he announced he was leaving for London the following morning. Lady Evangeline, who had returned that morning, tried politely to convince him to stay, but Dorley was pleased to see she didn't try too hard. So the following day they stood side by side on the gravel drive at the bottom of the steps leading up to the main entrance of the house and waved Lord Westerbrook good-bye as his carriage rolled off along the driveway.

"I can't say I was taken with your friend Lord Westerbrook," Lady Evangeline said casually as they returned to the house, and her husband surprised her by grunting as if he agreed with her.

After dinner that night, Dorley took a cigar from the box as usual and retired to the stables to smoke it, but he had barely lit up and started to puff when there was a shuffling sound and his stable boy, Lionel, stood before him, cap in hand and wearing clean Sunday clothes.

"Beg pardon your lordship, but may I speak?"

"Um, . . . uh, of course. Of course," Dorley stuttered in surprise, hardly able to look at the young man.

"Mr Peterson the head groom spoke to me yesterday, sir, and I am most grateful to you for your generosity. I'm to be his assistant now he says, and on seven pounds a year, which is a right fine sum. And my wife and I shall have our own cottage." He hesitated then, and turned his cap nervously in his hands. "Not that I was going to accept the offer Lord Westerbrook made me, sir. Umm, I have a wife too. And I have heard he is not an easy master, if you will forgive me for saying so, sir. And he doesn't have the fine stable of horses, as is here, your lordship."