Page 27 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
Almost before he could understand what had happened, Charley had his falls open and was beating his cock with a ferocious intensity. It was not the stroke of a man straining to come; he was merely stoking a fire already laying waste to his control.
“You want in your wife’s cunt, my man?” asked Edward, perfectly willing to cede the field and collect just the purse offered by Lady Maria for determining why her husband didn’tfuck her. Edward figured that inspiring her husband to fuck her would qualify as a solution to the problem.
Charley frantically shook his head in the negative and then made a pained noise as he ejaculated onto the place where Edward was currently plowing his wife’s cunt. Edward pulled out and watched as the seed collected in Maria’s entrance, then he plunged in again, delivering the spend deep inside.
Edward pulled back, leaving Maria’s gaping pussy available to her husband, but he missed her hole and his seemingly endless lashes of seed hit Edward’s cock instead.
No matter, he thought, he was perfectly content to deliver it right into the man’s wife (while being paid handsomely twice over for his trouble).
A thought occurred to him as he was ascending to orgasm and stroking Maria so she’d join him there. It was almost as if Charley’s violent sexual eruption wasn’t directed towards Maria’s newly broken-in cunny at all. It was as if the idea of ejaculating on Edward’s well-used cock brought him to sexual release.
The sudden force with which his cock grew harder was painful. His brain, starved for blood, became foggy, and Edward’s ability to hold back an orgasm crumbled. He shouted and poured himself into Charley Mabbot’s wife as the man looked on.
Chapter 5
This wasn’t the firsttime Edward’s cock had served as a painful bellwether for the truth.
He couldn’t remember when it first started, and he’d been convinced for years that he simply got harder than forged steel at inopportune moments because of youthful horniness.
Then he’d had an episode at his engagement ball. As the son of a Marquess, Edward was afforded certain advantages in society despite not being the heir. He could be called “Lord” without holding a title of his own, he had a fat purse because of a generous allowance from his papa, and he had a promising military career with plenty of fighting on the Peninsula ahead, where he might distinguish himself. Accordingly, he was to marry well — a Duke’s daughter with a handsome face and even handsomer dowry.
Midway through a waltz, Edward looked over to find his fiancée in the arms of a man regarding her with quiet intensity. There was nothing inappropriate about their dancing, yet Edward had to step back carefully from his own partner to avoid punching a hole in her silk satin gown with his insistently rigid erection that rose at the thought that this was the expression of a man deeply in love.
When Edward found his fiancée later that night, bent over and rogered from behind by that same man in the Marchioness’s greenhouse, he finally admitted to himself that his cock’s sudden rise had signaled more than just general interest.
It seemed impossible, but Lord Edward Richard Stone had a cock that alerted him to hidden truths with the consistency of a compass pointing north.
He’d made the mistake — when well into his cups — of telling a friend or two about his rather odd talent. Thus was bornDick Stone, a moniker that both revealed and belittled his gift.
In the days that followed his trip to the Mabbot townhouse, Edward’s head ached, and he was loath to spend time outdoors. On the third day, he rose from his bed and spent some time at his accounts, totaling up the cost to recover the more important of his losses when his cock, his own sexual hubris, and a rather nefarious plot in the days before Waterloo combined to strip him of his honor and material possessions.
“It’s fortunate you’ve me to do your bidding so you can lie in bed all day,” said Tobias, his leg halfway over the windowsill.
Edward held his head between his hands, even the sound of Tobias’s scratchy voice causing him pain.
“I say, are you drying out after marinating in gut rot?”
“Just a terrible headache,” said Edward.
“It’s a good thing I’m on the case, then. And I have information for you.”
“Haven’t had a chance to buy food lately.”
“You really are in the gutter, aren’t you? If you’ve got coin, I can bring some things back for you. I don’t need the one decent bloke in this city to starve to death.”
Edward fished a few coins from his purse. He didn’t have many, and if Tobias ran off with them, he was in terrible shape, but he saw no alternative.
“And what have you discovered as a result of following Charley Mabbot?”
Tobias paused at the window.
“Likes to visit a whorehouse.”
“Just one?” asked Edward, perking up. Maybe he fancied himself in love with one of the ladybirds.
“Aye. They keep the windows covered — they’re not stupid, but it’s easy to read the shadows. Beast with two backs, you know.”
“What’s the crowd going in and out like?”
