BritDog

Spring

Everywhere she looked, Sylvia saw the bobbing heads of bright, cheerful daffodils. They were especially beautiful under the crisp, blue sky of an English springtime. Birds were beginning to pair up and build nests for their soon to be squeaking and trilling young. She always looked forward to this time of year, not just because it was a time of renewal and rebirth but for the simple joys it provided. Spring flowers slowly appearing to herald the departure of winter. Snowdrops always began the procession of abundant colour, followed by carpets of orange and purple crocus closed tight against the last of winter’s winds and opening their arms wide to welcome the sun as days grew longer, brighter and warmer. She had always considered daffodils to be the true harbingers of spring with the tulips that followed walking you gently into summer.

She had put out some bird feeders on her small balcony and was thoroughly enjoying watching the assorted Tits that fed voraciously from them. Her father had introduced her to bird watching along with her brother and the three of them had spent many happy hours spotting the various types on the walks he took them on. Sitting on the sofa, mug of tea in her hand, she had an unimpeded view of the antics of the feathered acrobats. Her favourites were the Blue Tits, comical, aggressive, noisy, they were the majority of visitors to the seed and nut dispensers. The larger Great Tits reminded her of her now ex-husband; brash, attractive bullies. A large family of Long Tailed Tits descended on the free lunch at least twice a day, initially bringing tears to her eyes as she remembered her brother comparing their cute faces to his teddy bear. He had renamed them Teddy Tits and it had stuck with her for her whole life. She kept a list of the species she saw feeding and it was currently up to thirty two. Her brother would have loved it.

The doorbell rang, it’s harsh notes bursting the bubble of peace and contentment she had built around herself. She wasn’t expecting anyone, she didn’t get many visitors. All of her so – called friends had turned their backs on her when she had left Greg. Whilst part of her understood why, a suddenly single woman was a potential threat to their husbands, the other part was upset and resentful. She had drawn deeply on her inner core of strength to ensure no one saw her hurt and it was now fading as she slowly began to make new friends. Emma, her daughters psychologist was one such so she was delighted to see her face when she opened the door.

‘Emma! What a lovely surprise.’ She stood back to allow her friend access to her home. ‘Come in, I’ll put the kettle on.’

Kettle filled and turned on, teapot ready, mugs standing by, the two friends sat at the small kitchen bar that was just big enough for the two of them. ‘So, what brings you out here?’

Emma was hesitant and Sylvia noticed.

‘What’s happened? Is it Donna?’

Emma nodded, took a calming breath and spoke, her voice trembling nervously. ‘We’ve lost her.’

The air in the kitchen became very still, as if time had stopped as Sylvia processed the bald statement. ‘You’ve lost her?’ She stood, crossed to the kettle and began pouring boiling water into the teapot. She tried to sound reasonable when next she spoke but was aware that her voice was higher in pitch than normal as she struggled to control her anxiety and anger. ‘What exactly do you mean, you’ve lost her? She is supposed to be living in a secure unit.’

‘She was …… is.’ Emma was finding it hard to look Sylvia in the eye.

‘I think you had better start from the beginning.’

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Across town, the removal company that had transported all of Tony’s possessions from his flat to Grahame’s house was almost empty. When his rental contract had come up for renewal, Grahame had floated the idea that as Tony spent every night with him these days, only returning to his flat to collect mail or the occasional item of clothing, wouldn’t it make sense to move in with him properly and save himself the expense of maintaining a home he didn’t really need anymore? It spoke volumes for how far their relationship had come that in less than four months, they were now officially living together and both were excited at the prospect.

The last few months had passed in a blur for the two men. Once they had acknowledged it was possible to fall in love with someone as quickly as they had, and Grahame had got over his worries about their age difference, helped in no small part by Tony’s support and encouragement not to mention his new, trendier wardrobe and haircut, their relationship had moved on apace.

Sex, to use Grahame’s least favourite word, was ‘amazing’. Tony was happily making up for lost time, something Grahame was happy to accommodate having quickly remembered how much fun physical contact and sexual athletics could be, especially with one as enthusiastic as Tony.

Helping the removal men carry his belongings into his new home, Tony was enjoying the new, and more than pleasant sensations created by the butt plug Grahame had bought him as a welcome home present. Early that morning, after his lover had filled his hungry channel with yet another load of hot cum, he had laid on the bed, legs wide apart, as, using his slippery seed as lubricant, Grahame had carefully and sensuously inserted the not insubstantial cone shaped plug into his boyfriends relaxed and open anus. Grahame gave Tony’s so fuckable bum a gentle slap once the plug was comfortably ensconced, ‘You’ll be ready for me when ever I want you today.’ There was a wickedly playful glint in the older man’s eye. ‘Be prepared young man, be prepared!’

Tony bounced off the bed, gripping his new toy tightly with his strong arse ring. ‘I always wanted to be a boy-scout.’

He had soon learned that he could relax his sphincter and that the ergonomics of the plug ensured it remained firmly, comfortably and stimulatingly in place. His cock had been at half mast for most of the morning, pumping itself to full erection every time he bent down to lift a box. The friction the movement caused inside his sensitive sheath sent shivers down his spine and a tingle in his balls that on more than one occasion elicited a deep throated growl from him. It didn’t help that the man supplied by the removals company to drive the lorry and help move his stuff was a bit of all right. Grahame had commented as soon as he saw him that he was more than fuckable and if he had still been single …… well, things may have happened. Tony had given him a firm slap on the legs and told him to behave, an action not lost on the attractive driver who proceeded to flex, pose and strut for the two of them as he effortlessly carried heavy boxes and furniture on his own, biceps bulging, buttocks clenching.

Tony’s constant state of arousal did not go unnoticed and half way through the move, Grahame had steered him down to the bottom of the long garden. Pulling him behind the shed, where they couldn’t be seen, he quickly pushed Tony’s track suit bottoms down, removed the butt plug with gentle, experienced hands and replaced it with his thick, stiff, leaking pole. Tony’s jock strap remained in place and he was prevented from fondling himself by the ferocity and speed with which he was being fucked which necessitated his placing his hands firmly on the side of the shed to stop himself being pushed over. For the minutes his arse was being used all he was conscious of was the wonderful feelings flooding through his body thanks to the ultra-sensitivity of his boy cunt as a result of his being slowly, erratically fucked all morning by the thick lump of rubber. Grahame gave an extra hard, extra deep thrust as he began to fill his lover’s depths with his seed, a thrust that hit Tony’s g-spot so perfectly that his aching cock filled the pouch of his jock with hot sticky fluid, a feeling that in itself intensified his orgasm.

Grahame withdrew, replaced the butt plug and pulled Tony’s track suit bottoms up again. Tony turned around just in time to see the large meat his arse had just eaten so easily being tucked away. ‘I need to change my underwear. It feels weird.’

Grahame held him by his arm. ‘Oh no, they stay on.’ That glint was still in his eyes. ‘Let the stud in the van smell your sex. Let’s have some fun.’

And so it was that for the rest of the morning, Tony was forced to walk around with his load of cum quickly covering his balls and cock. The feeling of it pulling and stretching the skin of his still rock hard cock and churning balls was soon something he was enjoying, the stimulation it gave along with that of his butt plug had him panting, groaning and rubbing himself in equal measure. His arousal did not go unnoticed and it soon became evident that the van driver, who they had learned was called Rob, didn’t wear underwear so obvious was the size and shape of the dick snaking down his inner thigh.

‘I think he’s bigger than you,’ Tony whispered into Grahame’s ear.

‘Yes, but not as thick.’ He gave Tony’s pulsing bulge a firm squeeze. ‘He’d have had you in the back of the van by now if I wasn’t here.’ From the corner of his eye he saw Rob looking at them. Mischief propelled him into kissing his lover, long and forcefully, his hands blatantly groping his taught, round buttocks.

By lunchtime the move was complete, Tony had driven into town to drop the keys off at the Letting Agents. A task all the more interesting for him due to the pressure on his butt plug when he initially sat down in the driver’s seat, and the firm prod it gave him with each subsequent change of gear. Every time he depressed the clutch pedal the resulting sensations sent a wave of desire through his system, ensuring his substantial erection was maintained. He had to sit in the car for several minutes when he arrived at his destination to allow his all too obvious excitement to abate.

Grahame was just collecting his wallet from the kitchen to get the cash to pay Rob when he felt a hand on the small of his back. He jumped from shock then spun around quickly to find himself in a pair of very strong arms. He pushed his hands against the firm chest and with sheer brute strength managed to make Rob release him.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ His voice was low and controlled but his mind and body were ready to fight if necessary. Rob took a step back, his hands raised in supplication.

‘Hey, I’m sorry. I just thought…’

Grahame took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax a little. ‘It’s okay. I suppose we did lead you on a bit. I think it’s me that should be apologising.’ He smiled hoping he looked contrite. Rob chuckled.

‘Yeah, you did a bit. You two are a great looking couple.’ He dropped his eyes and somehow managed to look up at Grahame through his long eye lashes. ‘You especially.’

Turning away and walking towards the door, Grahame thanked him for the compliment. ‘Maybe in different circumstances I would have taken you up on your offer, but right now…..’

‘You’re in love with a sexy guy and you are behaving yourself.’ They paused, looking at each other. Grahame could feel his resolve weakening.

‘Yes I am, but we can hug out our misunderstanding. I don’t want you thinking I’m some sort of prick tease.’ He opened his arms and the two men briefly hugged as friends. It was an action that was to cause heartache and confusion in the days ahead.

Rob was long gone when Tony got home, hard as a rock and randy as hell. Grahame considered whether or not to tell him about the misunderstanding with Rob, but deciding no harm was done decided to forget it. It was a mistake he would regret. Instead, he took Tony by the hand and led him into the bedroom.

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Sylvia sat quietly, interrupting only occasionally as Emma explained how Donna had managed to fool her staff and escaped from the supposedly secure clinic.

In order to win her confidence and to keep her as calm as possible, Emma had decided that a small team of her most trusted colleagues would look after Donna, seeing to her meals, clothes, exercise etc. It seemed to be working as they all noted a big improvement in the young woman’s attitude and behaviour. She stopped having tantrums and hadn’t lost her temper in over three weeks. Sylvia politely pointed out that she knew all about the changes Emma had instituted and of the subsequent improvement in her daughter.

‘Just tell me what happened Emma. I’m not going to blame anyone or sue you. Tell me the truth.’ A sigh of relief, and a slump of her shoulders told Sylvia she had been right to reassure her friend. She took Emma’s hand in hers. ‘Let’s try and sort this out between us. She can’t have gone far.’ Emma smiled weakly at her. ‘Now, how did she get out?’

‘She fooled us all Sylvia.’

Donna had bided her time, taking note of the times the staff came and went and of the routines they followed. After a few weeks she saw there was a slight chance she could make her bid for freedom first thing in the morning when the cleaner, an elderly lady called Maureen, came in to her room to tidy and hoover. Twice in the two weeks she had been keeping mental notes, Maureen had forgotten to lock the door, on one occasion even leaving the key in the lock. Donna had nurtured a friendship with the old lady who told anyone who would listen that the poor girl in room twelve was a lovely, misunderstood thing who reminded her of her grand-daughter.

Unfortunately, Maureen’s naivety played right into Donna’s manipulating hands when on the Saturday of the third week she had been cleaning Donna’s room, she found herself coming round from a nasty clump on the head. She slowly remembered what had happened. She was in a hurry due to her husband’s insistence that she accompany him to the local football derby. It meant that what she normally took four hours to do on a Saturday morning, today she had to do in just over two. So she hurried and cut corners. Donna was last on her list and by the time she got to her she was running behind her shortened schedule.

She breezed into Donna’s room. ‘Morning dear. Can’t chat today cause I’m off out this afternoon and I need to get me skates on.’ Donna smiled and as Maureen quickly dusted asked her about her plans for the afternoon, taking her mind off the bunch of keys hanging from the lock of the door. As they talked, Donna innocently made her way to stand between the elderly cleaning lady and the unlocked door. Maureen was only alerted to the young woman’s plan when she heard the keys rattle as Donna removed them from the door.

‘What are you doing dear? You know you’re not allowed to touch my keys. Please hand them over.’ She held out her hand expecting the nice girl to give them to her. Instead a hand with a vice like grip wrapped itself round her wrist and roughly jerked her off her feet. She landed with a thud, her head striking the corner of the bed frame. Blood immediately began to run from the wound, winding down her neck towards her chest. Donna laughed when she saw the old lady lapse into unconsciousness, then quickly removed the cleaner’s overall and shoes. The overall fitted her perfectly, and though the shoes were a little tight they would suffice. Taking Maureen’s keys and pass card Donna walked into the corridor.

Leaving the clinic had been much easier than she had expected or hoped it would be. Fewer people worked there on Saturday and security had never really been a problem so no one gave much thought to it. By the time Maureen came round and raised the alarm, Donna was long gone.

‘Is the old lady alright?’

‘Yes, she’ll have a headache and a small scar but she will be fine. We’ve put her in one of our rooms for the night so we can keep an eye on her.’

Sylvia was relieved. ‘So all we need to do now is find my heartless daughter and get her back under lock and key.’

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One of the reason’s Grahame had bought his house was the excellent bus service that ran down the road. He had never been snobbish about using public transport and often caught the bus into town rather than fighting with traffic and parking. His large front garden,filled with mature trees and long established bushes and flower beds meant the house stood well back from the road so the noise of buses stopping at the shelter opposite his drive didn’t intrude at all on his peace and quiet. The house was secluded enough that neither blinds, nor, horror of horrors, net curtains were used at any of the windows. As a result it had been easy for Donna to see into the front rooms as she stood with two other people at the sheltered bus stop.

Her surprise at the ease with which she had escaped from the clinic had soon given way to thoughts of revenge. Any concern she had for Maureen, whom she had left unconscious and bleeding were soon forgotten as she focussed on the task ahead of her. There were three people on her list and a determination to punish each of them was uppermost in her mind. Her first target was the man who had stolen Tony from her. Her confused and broken mind was absolutely convinced that the old man she had seen kissing her beloved had used either drugs or threats to win him over to his side of the fence. No amount of reasoning from Emma or the nursing team was going to convince her otherwise, although for the last few weeks she had been pretending to understand that sexuality as not something a person chose, that Tony had been gay since birth and had been fighting his natural instincts since realising he was different from what society considered the norm.

She had walked the six miles to her home, letting herself in with the spare key hidden in the greenhouse. Her father was surprised to see her, not expecting her to be released from care for some time yet. Donna smiled sweetly at him and lied that she had been given a weekend pass. Greg was all too happy to accept her explanation at face value. He had a date with one of his women and wasn’t about to let his daughter get in his way. The barmaid who had moved in with him the day after Sylvia left had stayed for two weeks before she caught him texting another woman to arrange a meeting with her. He gave Donna a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out of the door.

Donna had retrieved her phone and purse from her bedroom. They had been taken off her when she was first admitted to the clinic. Losing her phone had brought on one of the biggest tantrums she had thrown. She had sulked for over a week afterwards, each day demanding that her only contact with the outside world be returned to her. She was relieved to find it was fully charged – at least her dad was good for something other than shagging every tart in the town.

Having followed Tony and the pensioner who had corrupted him to the old man’s home the night of the ‘incident’, Donna knew where Grahame lived and that catching a number 23 bus would deliver her to his front door. She hadn’t decided how she was going to get even with her fiancée’s lover, trusting that something would crop up. She alighted from the bus and immediately sat in the shelter facing Grahame’s drive.

There was a large removals van parked at the house and at first she thought Grahame must be moving out. When she saw Tony emerge from the house, cross to the van, then return carrying a large box, she began to shake with anger. The bastard’s moving in with the old cunt. She had trouble breathing as her throat constricted and tears of fury pooled in her eyes. The fucking queer bastard is moving in with him. Her mind reeled at the realisation and it took every ounce of strength she processed not to run across the road to attack the man she was supposed to be marrying.

The three men unloading the van were totally oblivious to the woman sitting at the bus stop across the road, after all, it wasn’t exactly unusual to see people there waiting for a bus. As they moved back and forth, from van to house, Donna was finally able to get a good look at her rival.

He wasn’t as old as she had first thought, he was certainly younger than her father. She also had to reluctantly admit that he was quite good looking – in that mature man sort of way she had noticed in other middle aged men. Still unsure how she was going to get her revenge, she contented herself with taking pictures with her phone of the men emptying the van.

Her blood boiled and she fought to stop herself running across the road to attack them when Grahame pulled Tony in close for a passionate kiss. She felt her stomach churning, only just managing not to throw up at the disgusting sight of two men being intimate. Her thumb pressed record on the phone and she captured the offensive moment for eternity. She would play it back over and over again in the weeks to come allowing it to feed her jealousy and hatred.

Panic gripped her when she realised Tony was going to drive right passed her, but she needn’t have worried as he paid her no attention what so ever. Excitement replaced the panic. The dirty older man would soon be on his own, she just had to wait for the van to leave and ………

Movement caught her eye. A triumphant, twisted grin despoiled her pretty face. The van driver had Tony’s man in his arms. She quickly brought her phone in to play and took several photographs of the two men. She could see Grahame push the driver away, clearly rejecting his advances, she didn’t care. The pictures she had taken would serve her well. A plan was forming in her mind. A way to sow doubt and mistrust. A way to kill two birds with one stone. The twisted grin became a chuckle of triumph and there was a renewed skip in her step as she set off for home.

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As soon as Donna’s escape had been discovered, Emma’s staff had contacted the police. Possible addresses where she might be found were given along with the reasons for her incarceration at the clinic. The senior nurse who had spoken to the police had stressed how delicate Donna’s mental state was and that she might become violent. They were advised to handle her with kid gloves. As a result, when the two Bobbies in the patrol car spotted her calmly walking down the road, giving all her attention to her mobile phone, they made no attempt to take it off her when they stopped and took her into protective custody. Donna remained calm and malleable throughout her time with them, continuing to concentrate on her phone, answering their questions simply with as few words as possible. The two police constables were relieved that her phone held her attention and kept her happy as they drove her back to the clinic.

By the time they got her there, she was sitting back, looking relaxed, a beatific smile of innocence on her child-like face.

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At the same time that the police officers were delivering Donna to the clinic, Tony and Grahame were about to jump in the shower together. They both needed to wash away the sweat and grime of their mornings physical labour and it was also the perfect place to continue their love making.

A welcome to your new home kiss had soon become passionate foreplay as the hot, masculine smell of his man had filled Tony’s nostrils. Thanks to all his hard work lifting and carrying boxes and furniture, Grahame’s natural body odour was intensified. He smelt more manly, stronger, sexier, and Tony found it intoxicating. He soon had Grahame’s t-shirt off, his tongue tasting the salty, sweaty man-ness of him. He pushed Grahame’s arm above his head allowing access to his armpit. A lust filled growl rumbled in his throat as he licked the exposed, sensitive skin, his actions forcing a sharp intake of breath followed by a hiss of pleasure from his lover.

Tony’s phone began to ring and vibrate in his pocket. Both men tried to ignore it, but after being directed to answer phone who ever it was hung up and tried again. On the third attempt, Grahame told Tony to answer it as it was probably urgent.

Looking at the screen, he saw it was his dad. He pressed the accept call button, a ball of nerves slowly forming in his chest.[PS1]

‘Dad? What’s wrong? Is it mum?’

Grahame heard a torrent of what sounded like abuse come from the caller. All colour drained from Tony’s face and he quite literally staggered to sit on the bed.

‘Dad, I ……..’ The phone went dead, his father had hung up on him. Tony quickly accessed his Facebook page, scrolling down he soon found what he was looking for. Photos of him and Grahame kissing like the lovers they were had been posted on line, along with – what the f…… - a photo of the man he loved in the arms of Rob, the removals man. In an instant, Tony’s world collapsed around him.