About Remembering Pleasure
Author: Julia Talbot
Word Count: 10600
Page Count (pdf): 37
Date Published: 05/31/2017 original 2006
Publisher: Turtlehat Creatives
File Types available: pdf, epub, mobi
Alistair isn’t sure he remembers what loving feels like. He’s done his duty by his family, leaving behind the feel of a man’s touch years before. If he yearns sometimes for the rough love of a man, he keeps it to himself. Things are about to change for Alistair, though, when his old school friend Griff sends a very special stablemaster his way. Mick Cole, with Griff’s help, intends to remind Alistair what it’s like to have some fun, and to let his responsibilities go just long enough to remember pleasure. A lusty Victorian romp!
This title has been previously published. The publisher has changed.
“I swear, lad, if you don’t put some effort into polishing those boots, I will beat you within an inch of your life.”
Alistair scowled. The voice belonged to his new stable master, a relatively young man, but one who came highly recommended by his dear friend from school, Griffin de Mannville. Griff was recently inherited himself, his father passing on only a year or less previous, and he had reorganized his household staff much as Alistair did now, trying to be rid of many of his father’s disapproving sycophants. Still, recommended by a friend or no, Alistair did not allow anyone to abuse his stable hands, and he stepped into the gloom of the building, his eyes adjusting to the change of light, his mouth open to upbraid the man thoroughly.
His mouth stayed open, fell even more so, in fact, but no sound came out. None whatsoever. He could never have foreseen the scene before him, not in a lifetime of imaginings. His best stable hand, Jack, was upon his knees on the straw and dirt strewn floor, naked as the day he was born, his hands tied behind his back with a set of reins. Mick Cole, the new stable master, stood with his feet planted wide, tall riding boots and buff breeches immaculate, while Jack… licked and rubbed against the shiny leather of Mick’s boots. Mick had a riding crop in his hand, and was rubbing it between the firm-muscled roundness of Jack’s arse cheeks, dipping every so often to lightly flick Jack’s swinging ball sac.
It was at once the most disturbing and arousing thing Alistair had ever seen. Oh, he had played at things while in school, along with Griff and a few others, but he had gone on to do his duty. He had married, he had produced an heir, and he had determinedly forgotten the feel of a man’s body. This brought the memories back in force.
Mick and Jack both snapped around to stare at him, Jack with dawning horror, Mick Cole with a heavy-lidded look of utter unconcern. “Yes, my Lord?”
“I do not pay you to dally with my stable lads.”
“You are not paying me now, my Lord. Nor are you paying Jack. This is our contracted twice-monthly day of leisure.”
Insolent bastard. “I see. Then I suggest you take it where all and sundry will not walk in upon you, if you please. There are some things a man would rather not see.”
“Very well, my Lord. I apologize.” Very gently, Cole lifted Jack to his feet and untied his hands. He spoke quietly, and soon enough Jack scampered off like a frightened rabbit. Cole did not, simply turned and looked at him, hands on his narrow hips. “What else, my Lord?”
“Where are the other lads? I would like to go riding.”
“They are all out exercising your nags, my Lord. Would you like me to saddle Bathsheba?” “Yes. I would.” He got a half smile, a glint out of Mick Cole’s strange green eyes. “As you will, my Lord. I live to serve.”