The Markenton Boy Ch. 01

I'd watched the boy for weeks. He was the Markenton's stable boy, though the word "boy" didn't quite describe him. He was a young man, to be sure: tall, tanned, muscular, a shock of tousled, amber hair on his head.

I'd tried striking up conversation with him on more than one occasion, but he would always smile and look away. He was a shy one, for certain. Never did I get much out of him when speaking of trifles and talking about other women in his life would cause him to excuse himself to resume his duties.

After watching him from hiding I found that he was not courting anyone. Eavesdropping, though not proper for a woman, revealed that, despite his shyness, he seemed to speak fondly of me when asked. It was enough to make my heart flutter and my mind to spin.

I am the eldest daughter of Jacob Twillings, aged 18, and, as my father will account, a free-spirited young woman. My father would have had me sent away abroad if he'd known I was showing interest in a stable boy, especially since I hadn't expressed much interest in legitimate suitors thus far. Our family had money, and as with all families with money, it was frowned upon to court anyone below our class.

Class! What does class have to do with love? Love? Why would I use such a word? I hardly knew the boy, but there was something about him. I would sit, hidden naturally, watching him bail hay or feeding the horses. He seemed to have gentleness about him, added to his strength, which melted me like wax.

Unlike most of the servants at the Markenton house he lived in a house, with his family, on the outskirts of the village. He would take a long and winding path through the copse of trees, then out across the grassy fields that stretched between our property and the Markenton's.

I had first noticed him, as I was coming up our drive, crossing this field. I was with my mother and riding high on our dogcart, so I had to wait to find out who he was. I happened to see him the following day, around the same time, entering the field from the Markenton place. I rushed from our gazebo to greet him.

I waited at our drive until he emerged from the tall grass. He seemed startled to see me there, but seemed courteous enough when I said, "Hello!" He chatted very briefly. I found that his name was Timothy. I told him that my name was Elizabeth. After exchanging a few other pieces of trivial news, he said his goodbye and entered the line of trees that lined our property.

I did not sleep a wink that night, my head filled with thoughts of meeting the boy whom I had seen. In the weeks that followed, I talked to him on a few occasions, but he was shy and would flush. Eventually, I made up my mind to do something that may have seemed rather unbecoming of a young lady: I followed him.

I waited in the tall grass until I saw him enter the field. The grass was as high as his waist and even higher against my own person, as I am shorter. There was only one path through the grass and that was the path which he tread. I lowered my head until I could just see him through the tips of the grass stalks. I was fairly certain he could not see me.

As he reached the other side of the field, the side where our drive was cut, he emerged from the tall grass. He crossed the drive and entered a fairly dense wood that stood on the other side. I knew this wood well as I had played here as a young girl. I silently followed him as he meandered his way through the trees.

After a few minutes I could no longer see the lights burning in the windows of our home and high branches obscured the moonlight. It was extremely dark in the wood, but I could still make out my quarry amongst the trees.

Upon reaching a small clearing, I saw him stop and stoop down behind a small stump. As I watched from behind a tree, I heard the sounds of metal and glass, then the striking of a match. The match flared behind the stump and then he shook it out. He lifted a small, brass lantern from behind the stump; it's light burning low. I flattened my back against the tree and covered my mouth as he turned the light up brightly.

I waited there, scarcely breathing. Eventually I saw the light recede from the clearing and I could hear his footsteps growing fainter. I cautiously stepped out from behind the tree to see him stepping over the crest of the small hill on which the clearing resided. I crept up the hill after him, eager to see where he was going.

The wood ended a two hundred feet down the hill and I could see him stepping out of the thin tree line. He played the light around the trees as if he knew someone was there. I lay flat on the hill, hiding myself from view. Satisfied that no one was there, he moved on across the field ahead of him.

I quickly and quietly came down the hill. At the edge, I hid behind a tree. Before me was a field of short grass. A small trail wound itself through the grass toward a small, squat wood house some distance away. I could barely make out a lone window, golden in the night.

Now I knew his destination and the way he traveled. Now all I had to do was figure a way to meet him along his way. The clearing seemed like an obvious choice, because he stopped there to retrieve his light. I smiled and nodded my head. Yes, that would be perfect! I rushed back home.

The following day, just before dusk, I left home with a large, wicker basket on my arm. I had to sneak out as neither father, nor mother, would have approved. Fortunately, Jennings, the houseman was my confidante and accomplice. He had prepared a basket containing a blanket, a bottle of wine, fruits, salted meats, and assorted cheeses. I hoped that a nice meal would relax him a bit.

I arrived at the clearing just before it got dark. I lay the basket down on the stump and opened one of the two coverings. I withdrew a small candle and box of matches. I struck the match with shaking hands and, after two attempts, lit the candle. I then busied myself with extracting the blanket and spreading it on the ground.

After moving the basket to the head of the blanket I retrieved a set of dishes: saucers, wine glasses, plates. I then pulled out cutlery and food, laying them all at their proper places. I laughed at myself as I retrieved the final item: a large bottle of Chardonnay from Chateau Latour, aged roughly 15 years.

Now, all I had to do was wait. I spread out on the blanket and then blew out the candle. I lay back, looking at the stars. Each one was a dazzling jewel in the sky. Before long my eyes became heavy.

The next sensation was being jarred awake by a hand on my shoulder. I cried out and pushed myself away. After a moment, I realized that it was Timothy. He had finally come. He sat the lantern on the stump behind him and leaned over me. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked.

"Y-yes. I'm fine," I said, still recovering.

"I can walk you back home, if you'd like," he said.

"No!" I said loudly, startling him. Composing myself I calmly said, "No, thank you," and then smiled.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of the wood at such an hour?" he asked, rising.

"Why, waiting for someone," I replied.

He looked confused. "I haven't seen anyone in these woods tonight."

I laughed. "I was waiting for you, silly!"

I couldn't tell if he blushed or not, but he looked away with a sheepish smile on his face. "Here, sit with me," I said, patting the blanket on the other side of the basket.

He looked from me to the food that lay out before him. Working all day had famished him, most likely. At first, I didn't think he would stay, but then he slowly sat, first taking his shoes off. "Would you like some wine?" I asked, holding up the bottle.

He hesitated for a moment but then agreed. I poured a quantity of the dark liquid into a crystal glass and held it out for him. "I don't want to dirty your lovely dishes," he said.

"It's okay. Dishes can be washed," I replied, smiling. Finally, he took the glass from my hand, his finger brushing my own. It was my turn to blush and I hid it by retrieving the cheese from behind me. I sat the cheese out and then filled my own glass.

"It certainly is a lovely night," I said to him as I sipped my wine. He agreed and continued sipping at his own. "I've been watching you for quite some time, Timothy," I said at last.

He blushed at this and said, "Truth be told, I've been watching you quite a bit myself."

"Then why do you always turn away or make excuses to leave me?" I asked.

He hesitated for a moment, but then said, "I've not had much experience in the way of women."

I laughed at this. "And you never will, if you continue acting aloof!"

He smiled again at this and then chuckled a bit himself. "I suppose I should have said something, but I'm a lowly stable boy, and your father is a wealthy man."

"Forget my father. He's not my keeper," I said sternly.

He pondered this then agreed, "aye, I don't suppose he is." We sat under the stars and nibbled at the food I'd brought. We enjoyed each other's company, getting to know one another. We had another glass of wine apiece and slowly we moved closer to each other until we were side by side, leaning against an old log, our feet splayed out across the blanket.

"How old are you?" I asked at last, curious.

"Let us see, it is the year of our Lord 1891. I was born in 1872. So that would make me, uh..." I saw him furl his brow as he tried to come up with the difference.

"Nineteen," I said at last, helping him out.

He flushed at this and said, "I never was good with numbers." Despite his apparent lack of formal education he had a fine world intelligence about him, having learned things through experience rather than theory.

He had a fine sense of humor and after laughing at one of his many stories, I found myself leaning against his shoulder. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer.

I turned to him to see him looking at me intently. I leaned toward him and, without thinking, kissed him on the cheek. He seemed taken aback for a moment, but then leaned in and kissed me on my forehead. I shivered. I'd never been kissed by another, except perhaps my father and mother. But this was different. It felt different. It caused my heart to skip a beat.

I poured us another glassful of wine. We sat, talking quietly as we sipped. I turned to look at him and suddenly felt a strange feeling wash over me. I was suddenly warm and my heart was beating quite fast in my chest. It led me to turn him toward me, whereupon I kissed him squarely on the lips.

His eyes opened wide for a moment in surprise, but then he relaxed and kissed me back with the same fervor. We embraced each other. I felt his strong arms wrap around my back, squeezing me tight. We were locked together, feeling as if the stars and moon in the sky were racing overhead. His hand moved up and into my long, dark hair, as he pushed me in closer.

I didn't know what had come over me. I felt the way an animal in heat must feel. My body was tingling all over. I kissed his neck, his shoulder, and his ears. He did likewise, stopping at my neck when I issued a low groan. It was a sensation I had never felt, nor never dreamed. It was a tickling sensation, burning with the heat of his breath, spreading through my shoulder.

Within a moment, I was pulling his suspenders off of his shoulders, pulling back the cloth and nibbling his shoulder. He had begun slowly working on the buttons on the back of my dress.

We broke off our kisses long enough to help him shrug out of his coarse shirt. His undershirt went a moment later. As he continued to fumble with the fasteners of my dress, I passionately kissed his chest, noticing that he would draw in air sharply when I would kiss near one of his raised nipples. I concentrated on one of these and he seemed to enjoy it.

He finally unfastened my dress and he helped me lay it to one side so that it would not get soiled. I felt so exposed sitting there in my corset. It didn't matter. I looked him in the eyes and we kissed again, this time more sweetly and gently.

I put my hand behind around his neck and pulled him closer. I could feel his bare chest touching the exposed tops of my breasts and a thrill went trough me. I grabbed his head with both my hands and kissed him intensely. He put his hands around my waist and pulled me close.

As we kissed I could feel his hands working along the clasps of my corset. I instinctively moved a hand to restrain him, but I didn't want him to stop and I let it fall to his chest. I ran my hand across his chest, feeling the hard, chiseled surface.

A moment later I felt his warm hands probing underneath my corset. It was like fire burning on my skin and it fueled my passion. I pushed him back onto the blanket and unfastened the last few remaining clasps on my corset. The corset came free, spilling my ample breasts.

He reached up and pulled me down onto him. I could feel my naked breasts pressed firmly against his red-hot chest. It's difficult to describe the sensations, the feelings, that I felt. My breasts were tingling and heat seemed to radiate outwards from them, warming my entire body.

We rolled over so that I was underneath him. He kissed my neck and shoulders and then began moving toward my right breast, kissing as he went. He gently caressed my left breast with one of his strong hands as his kisses began to land on the other.

I let out a gasp as he grazed one of my nipples with a kiss. I flushed hot for a moment and a new sensation began to form between my legs. It was a burning, throbbing sensation. I had never felt anything like this before, but it was wonderful. It would ebb and flow and as he kissed me it became more intense.

He began to suckle my raised nipple as he softly toyed with the other. The pleasure this gave me was incredibly potent and I could feel the burning between my legs growing ever stronger. I could not lay still and I began moving my hips. I began running my hands along the length of his bare back, scratching gently with my nails.

All of a sudden I was caught completely off guard as a wave of pleasure, more intense than any of the others, washed over me. I tensed and let out an inarticulate groan. It felt like all the heat in my body suddenly rushed out between my legs and I shook uncontrollably for a few seconds. It abated rather quickly and I had no idea what had just happened.

He stopped and looked at me. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I remember breathing heavily for a few moments before replying. "Yes, it felt very pleasant," I said, turning up the corners of my mouth into a smile. He smiled at me and kissed me on the lips.

I rolled him over, until he was on his back, and sat on his legs. I began loosening the knot that held his trousers firm. He sat up and kissed my neck sweetly and rubbed my back with his rough hands. After a few tugs the knot came free and I pulled them down to his knees.

I've heard other girls speak of men's penises, but I'd never seen one with own eyes until that day. It seemed large to me, too large, perhaps. And it was very stiff, red, with large veins running the length of it. There was a clear liquid coming from the tip.

I stood, pulled at the legs of his trousers, and removed them altogether, laying them on the growing pile of clothing. He in turn sat up and unfastened the crinoline, which I still wore. It fell away and I stepped out of it, turning to him. We were now completely naked in each other's company.

I lay down next to him again and he turned to me. We explored each other's bodies: kissing, touching, caressing. As we kissed, locked in embrace, his genitals came to touch the fabric of my drawers. The same feeling of pleasure raced through my body as we touched and I longed for the sensation I had felt earlier in the evening.

He kissed my neck and gently applied his teeth to my shoulder. I kissed the lobe of his ear as I ran my hands across his muscular back. His hands wandered down to where my drawers were fastened and I knew that I wouldn't try to stop him this time. I wanted him to do it.

His hands slowly, methodically loosened the gathering and pulled it away. He then slid his hand down, pushing the last remaining piece of my clothing down at the same time. His hand came in brief contact with the entrance to my womb and the world seemed to wink out of existence for a moment. The same heat flooded my body and I convulsed, pleasure coursing through my very veins.

This time he did not stop to ask if I was well. It was just as well, as I didn't want him to stop. His hand remained poised over my now swollen and pulsing sexual mound. He gently rubbed his hand along the outside of it, being careful not to touch me inside.

Even with this gentle pressure, I was beside myself with lust and within a minute, I lurched forward again in throes of convulsions. With each one of them, pleasure stabbed within me, causing me to involuntarily groan with each, thrusting my hips forward.

His penis came into brief contact with the entrance to my vagina and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I clasped my hands beneath his buttocks and pulled him closer to me, urging his hips forward. He rolled over on top of me and slowly probed the outer boundaries with his penis.

Fortunately I had broken my hymen at the age of 14, during a riding incident, so I would not have to contend with that now, for at long last he slowly inserted himself into me, at least a bit. The feeling was so intense. Pleasure and heat surged through me as he did so. I urged him forward just a bit more. With every push he made, I felt like I would lose control of my body. He, likewise, was garnering a similar reaction as he breathed out heavily with every push.

At long last, he was inside of me as far as he could possibly go. We continued suckling and teasing one another, further adding to the sexual excitement that we both felt. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it, what-so-ever. This was not the Devil's Way as it had so often been described. This was how it was meant to be.

I could feel the fire burning with in, building more slowly this time. He gently caressed my breast with one of his strong hands and suckled the skin of it. Heat and tingling pleasure radiated outward from it. I was sweating, panting and heaving, or bodied moving as one.

Suddenly the fire overwhelmed me again and my body tensed. The same internal convulsions struck me over and over, though this time it seemed to be different. It was more localized around my vaginal area. I could feel myself contracting internally, gripping his penis more fiercely, with each one.

He suddenly tensed and let out a grunt. After a moment I felt warmth spreading within me. He collapsed on top me, breathing heavily. I lie there, not sure what I should do. While I had found him handsome and strong, I had no intention with going this far with him. Yet, what was done was done. There was no going back now.

He kissed me passionately on the lips, then again on the breast. It took but a moment for me to forget about the sort of issues this coupling could cause and I followed suite, kissing his neck and chest. He fondled my breasts and rubbed my sensitive nipples that tingled with every touch.

He was still deep inside of me and he was still quite erect. Likewise, I could feel his penis rubbing against the inner walls of my canal. I wanted him again. I pushed gently against him and we rolled together onto his back. I was now on top, which seemed like an odd place to be, but it drove him in deeper.

Slowly, I began to slide myself along the length of his body, our sweat acting as a sort of lubrication. I could feel my breasts pressed against his burning hot chest. Heat began building between my legs once again. He helped me in my movements by grasping me on either side of my hips. That's how I will always remember that night; his warm hands gliding across my body as we made love freely in the cool night air.