Selling a Horse in Nuneaton By Robert S. Costic
Robert Costic has written a collection of fairy tales, "Flamethrower Fairy Tales," a novella, "Kepler's Revenge," and a collection of aphorisms, "Lightning Words," and has translated fairy tales by Theodor Storm and Friedrich Hebbel from German. All are available as ebooks everywhere.
"George, you must simply stop drinking and gambling our fortune away."
Arnold stood with his back to the roaring fireplace. He stared down his brother George, who, wasted on a bottle of whiskey, slumped in the padded chair, his hair disheveled, his face red and bloated. "I do not demand much of you. Father and I do not care that you have not earned your own income and live on the family estate, but if you continue to run up all these gambling debts I will be forced to tell father."
"You will do no such thing," George slurred. "If you tell father about my gambling, I will tell him how your wife is an opium addict, how you have never consummated your marriage, and how you have been sleeping with every stable boy, farmer, and hired hand in Nuneaton!"
"So your intention is to ruin this family?" Arnold said. "Drive us into bankruptcy and ruin our name?"
"Just leave me alone."
"Fine. Just do this one thing," Arnold said, waving some papers in George's face. "These are all notes from people writing to me saying that you owe them money. I counted the amount and I surmised that you could pay them off if you sold your horse Gumdrop."
"Gumdrop? But I ride Gumdrop."
"We have other horses you can ride. Sell Gumdrop, pay off these debts, and we'll consider the matter settled for now."
"Fine," George said.
Arnold saw George out of the estate house. George stumbled and held the wall all the way outside, and in the fresh, cold air he felt somewhat revived but hardly any more coordinated. He reached Gumdrop, managed to climb on top of the horse's back with a helpful shove from one of the servants, and lackadaisically rode into town. He reached his favorite tavern, in front of which a few compatriots of Arnold's -- Dustan, Cadwell, and Thomas -- stood judging George's inebriated approach.
"Any of you want a horse!" George shouted more as a statement than a question.
"Why, are you selling?" Dustan asked.
"Yeah, Arnold says I have to pay off my gambling debts, so I'm selling Gumdrop."
"It is a beaut," Cadwell said, "and look at its cock!"
Indeed, at that moment Gumdrop's manhood, thick as an arm, extended out and drooped so low Arnold's compatriots imagined it nearly touching the ground.
"I suppose Gumdrop is happy to see you, Dustan," Cadwell concluded.
"If only," Dustan said, keeping his eyes on the dangling appendage. "That would impale me."
George fell off the horse onto the cold ground and stayed there, in no hurry to stand up.
"Oh dear," Thomas said. "Let's help the fellow up." He put his arms underneath George's armpits and lifted George up, but the whole weight of George pressed against Thomas. "Dustan, help me." Dustan took one armpit while Thomas focused on the other. Cadwell took the horse, and the lot of them walked over to Thomas' house, just around the corner from the tavern. There Cadwell boarded the horse and the other two threw George onto the living room ottoman, where George passed out.
Cadwell came in. "Should we tell Arnold?"
"No," Dustan said. "I don't see the point. Just let him sleep it off."
In fact none of the men present wanted to notify Arnold, because each wanted to buy the horse from George. Dustan for his part knew that at the moment he could afford to spend only two hundred pounds and would be outbid by Thomas and Cadwell. Thomas, who knew a great deal about horses, surmised that Gumdrop was worth at least three hundred pounds. Cadwell did not know anything about horses but loved to spend his money lavishly and irresponsibly for the sheer enjoyment of conspicuously displaying his wealth.
"Well, let's not stay here all day waiting for him to sober up," Dustan said. "Let's go meet up with the Bulkington boys." Earlier in the day Dustan and his friends had planned to meet these amiable men from the village of Bulkington, who came to Nuneaton to deliver their sheep wool to the textile mills. Dustan knew the men from his own textile business and had hosted many randy parties with them at his townhouse while Dustan's wife wiled away her time at the country estate translating Feuerbach.
Thomas and Cadwell agreed, and they journeyed first to Dustan's textile mill, where they met the handful of randy workers receptive to Dustan's advances. Promises of booze, food, and money lured them into the embraces of Dustan and his friends, and they went back to Dustan's townhouse, along the way running into Arnold, who had anticipated just such an adventure.
"Mind if I join you?" Arnold said, and with a nod of Dustan's hat they all entered that respectable townhouse, where they all proceeded to pour wine, undress, ravish each other. Cocks flopped out and were tugged and sucked.
The Bulkington boys took turns fucking Thomas. Built large and tough for the daylong labor of life on the farm, each contrasted startingly with Thomas' svelt frame, used as it was to the idle refinements of urbane life. Each man climbed on Thomas like a powerful, ravenous predator descending on its prey. One grabbed Thomas by the neck and practically strangled him with his bulging arms as he pounded Thomas' soft, lily-white ass. Arnold and Cadwell watched the spectacle while being pleasured by their own boys, but in the sexual fury Dustan excused himself, stating that he needed to use the toilette, when in fact he left the house entirely and went to Thomas'.
At Thomas' house Dustan slapped George across the face. "Wake up!" Dustan shouted.
Roused from his drunken slumber, George looked at Dustan and asked, "What is it?"
"I want to buy your horse. Is two hundred pounds enough?"
"Sure," George slurred. "Just let me go to sleep."
Dustan shoved two hundred pounds into George's pocket and shoved a paper and a quill into his face. "Here, just sign this. It says that I purchased the horse from you."
"Fine, whatever," George said, signing the paper and falling immediately back to sleep.
Dustan rode Gumdrop from Thomas' back to his house and stabled him in his carriage house. When Dustan entered his house, undressed, and opened the door to the dining room he found Thomas riding Cadwell on the floor while the Bulkington boys circled around him, cumming in turn on his face. Cum dribbled all over his cheeks and mouth and fell onto Cadwell, who scooped it up by the handful and tasted it. The arousal the taste gave him made Cadwell cum inside Thomas, who took the loads with great thrusts to his bowels, and when Cadwell finished Thomas rose, letting the cum slip out and down his leg. But before the orgy concluded Arnold approached Thomas from behind and inserted himself into Thomas, fucking his cum-lubricated hole into his own was added. They tongued each other, and Arnold jacked Thomas off until he shot several great spurts that all landed on Cadwell, who still looked up at them from the floor.
In no hurry for his guests to leave, Dustan treated them to more food and libations, which they enjoyed in relaxed nudity. Cadwell, sipping some port, turned to George as they sat around the dining table and said, "So George told us that he's selling Gumdrop."
"Yes," Arnold said, frowning at the reminder of his irresponsible brother, "so he can pay off his debts."
"You should have come directly to me," Cadwell said. "George will only get himself into more trouble. I would have gladly paid five hundred pounds for that handsome beast."
"That's awfully generous," Thomas said, wiping the cum off his face with a dinner napkin.
"So, did you purchase the horse from George?" Arnold asked Cadwell.
"No," Cadwell said. "He passed out, and we left him at Thomas' house."
"Well I already purchased the horse," Dustan said.
"What!" Thomas and Cadwell shouted.
"When?" Thomas asked.
"While you all were fucking I slipped out and went back to Thomas'. I woke George up and persuaded him to sell the horse to me."
"Persuaded!" Thomas shouted. "He was blind drunk!"
"I have the receipt right here," Dustan said, waving it in their faces.
"How much did you buy that horse for?" Arnold asked.
"Two hundred pounds."
"Two hundred!" Arnold asked. "Gumdrop is worth at least three! That won't be enough to cover all his debts." He held his hand to his forehead and stood up. He looked at Dustan, "I'll never trust you again!"
"And how did I betray you?" Dustan asked. "You and I did not have any agreement that I breached. I merely saw your drunken brother and saw an opportunity. If anything, you were a fool to let him sell his horse on his own. He was on his way to the tavern when we saw him! He probably would have gambled his horse away before getting any actual money for it."
Arnold groaned.
"I have a proposal," Dustan said. "Cadwell said earlier he was willing to pay five hundred pounds for Gumdrop. Cadwell, if you pay me that five hundred I'll give a hundred to Arnold to go toward George's debts. I'll make a handsome profit and George will have all his debts paid."
"You schemer!" Cadwell said. But then mulling it over, he offered, "Four hundred."
"No. Five hundred. That's what you said you'd paid for it. Otherwise I'll just enjoy riding my new horse around town and admire its fine manhood."
"Fine. Five hundred." They shook hands on the deal.
"Should we check on George?" Thomas asked. "He's probably still at my house."
They agreed that they should, so after seeing the Bulkington boys off they walked back to Thomas', but once they arrived they discovered that George had disappeared. They did not find him sleeping on the ottoman, nor did they find him anywhere else.
"Shit," Thomas said. "He probably woke up and left."
"Let's check the tavern," Arnold said.
They walked over to the tavern and met the host. "Did you see George?" Arnold asked.
"Yes, he just left," the host said. He came in for a drink and Willy McDonald started chatting him up and left with him."
"Willy McDonald!" Arnold exclaimed. Willy McDonald was the town male prostitute, notorious for having an asshole so torn up from abuse that it had lips textured just like a pussy's. "Quick, to Willy McDonald's flat!"
They ran over and barged through the door into Willy's flat, where they found George fucking Willy, George's half-flaccid dick just barely managing to slip through the lips of Willy's hole. "George, what are you doing!" Arnold exclaimed. "You're not a Sodomite!"
"What are you talking about?" George slurred, his eyes practically closed.
"This nice lady invited me home."
"That isn't a lady," Arnold said. "That's Willy McDonald. He's a male prostitute."
"Gosh," George said, "do all your holes fill this good?"
Arnold threw George off Willy.
"Hey!" Willy said. "We're having a good time."
"The hell you were!" Arnold said. "You saw my brother blind drunk and decided to take advantage of him."
Dustan pointed at the two hundred points that he had earlier shoved into George's pocket, the two hundred pounds that now saw on top of Willy's dresser. "Look at that! Those are the two hundred pounds I gave George earlier for the horse!"
"So you thought you could get two hundred pounds out of my brother just for a fuck, did you?" Arnold said with fiery hate in his eyes. "I'll make you earn your coins," and with that Arnold took out his cock and stuffed it into Willy's loose lips while Dustan and Cadwell held Willy in place. Arnold's dick was not even hard, but once it began rubbing against the soft tissue of Willy's innards it hardened. George, meanwhile, was overcome with a burning need to urinate, and too disgustingly drunk to do otherwise he peed all over Willy. Undeterred by this golden shower, Arnold continued to pound Willy until he came, and then he switched places with Cadwell. Cadwell fucked Willy, and then Dustan. Dustan, who had not climaxed during the orgy held at his own house, shot the largest load into Willy, and when he finished he swung Willy around and forced Willy to suck his dick.
When they finished Arnold took the two hundred pounds from the dresser and threw fifty pence in Willy's face. "Here! That's what you would normally earn for that." And then Arnold pointed at George, "And as for that sack of shit, he can stay at your place tonight!" Dustan, Cadwell, and Arnold filed out of the flat, and Arnold slammed the door shut.