Gilliflowers (24 page)

She was ill after the three-day treatment. It was awful to see her so sick and weary. For the first time she said she was about ready to throw in the towel and accept the inevitable rather than go through the trauma of treatment that won’t prolong her life by any great stretch. Brave lady she rallied and she’s on her feet again. She looks brighter and better, even though her hair is falling out. She’s amazing.

As well as worrying about my mother and being tense with the boyfriends I’ve been busy gardening. We have large gardens to the front and back of the house and I manage them myself. Getting rid of the gravel drive and laying the new one really messed up the front garden so I’ve been sorting it out. I’ve finally got the lawn looking good again. I’m having another go at creating a little knot garden with herbs and bedding plants out the back. It isn’t looking much at the moment, but maybe later in the season it will come into its own.

I was chuffed to discover a pair of bluetits nesting in one of the boxes I put up.

Dick said he never thought to see me so excited over a pair of tits. He need talk because he was just as interested and kept trying to get a good photo of the birds going in and out of the box. The chicks have fledged now, though I still see them around the garden foraging for insects in a little birdy gang, one of them posted as look out for gangster robin.

I fancy making a pond. The back garden is plenty big enough to accommodate one. Shane isn’t keen. He says it’ll be prone to growing algae, getting smelly and be too high maintenance, like me, not that I grow algae or get smelly or anything, well not if you discount the athlete’s foot I get occasionally.

I told him from my point of view him and Dick were more high maintenance than a pond would ever be. I also said as I did all the maintaining of home and garden the final decision should be mine, which earned me a stern reminder that when it comes to decisions he’s the only person with ‘final’ rights.

It was my birthday last weekend. I didn’t enjoy it. It turned Chernobyl when another case of fallout contaminated the event.

That’s all my news worth telling for today dear diary. I’d better move my cute arse because I’ve got crabs to see to, from the fishmonger I hasten to add, hmm, somehow that sounds even worse. What I mean is I have crustaceans purchased from the fishmonger to prepare for dinner this evening.

I leave you with some chapters about recent and aforementioned tensions in this boy’s life. They brought about a new house rule, one I am far from happy with.

On May the fifteenth I had a question in need of an answer. In retrospect (ah sweet retrospect) I perhaps should have addressed my question to the man from Del Monte because, as all advert fans know, the man from Del Monte he always say yes!

The man I addressed my question to clearly wasn’t a fan of the Del Monte school of thought, because he said an unequivocal no. That man was Dick.

He’d been away at a seminar in Glasgow and I was hoping he’d get back early because I had a delicate subject I wished to broach, and I wished to broach it before the Supreme Commander, he who must be obeyed, got home from work.

My hope was realised and Dick arrived back at the quasi mansion well ahead of Shane being due. It looked like my luck was in, and about time too.

I was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal when he arrived home. He called his trademark greeting and I bounded into the hall to meet him like an excited pup. I’d missed him. He looked sexy in blue jeans and an open necked Ted Baker polo shirt.

He declared me a sight for sore eyes and we hugged and kissed. He asked how I was feeling and if my sinuses were any better. I told him I’d been prescribed antibiotics and they hadn’t yet kicked in, but the nasal spray was helping some.

I asked how his seminar had gone and if there had been any good-looking designers there I needed to know about. He said it had been interesting and yes there’d been plenty of good looking designers, but none as good looking as him and none for me to get jealous about so I could banish the green demon.

“It was a long drive, hun, I’m tired. Be a love and make me a coffee, a shot of caffeine might liven me up.”

“Do you want anything to eat with it, a sandwich or a slice of homemade carrot cake? Eileen brought one over this morning. I was going to serve it for dessert this evening, but I’ve scoffed most of it.”

“Greedy boy.” He gave my arse a mock slap. “I’d better have a piece while there’s some left.”

I duly made a pot of coffee and we sat together on the couch in the lounge while we drank it and polished off what was left of the cake. He filled in details about his trip. As we chatted his hand roamed lazily along my thigh, his fingers skimming the crotch of my jeans exciting the trouser pup and making it challenge the zip confining it.

He gave a smile and one of the sexy little winks he saves just for me. “I think your trouser pet needs to get out for some exercise. I know mine does. He’s been restrained for too long.” Standing up he grasped my hands and pulled me to my feet. “Come on, my sexy slut,” he grasped the hem of my tee and peeled it up and off my body, casting it aside. Swinging me up into his arms macho style he carried me towards the stairs.

“Let’s go walk the dogs.”

In the bedroom I took off the rest of my kit while he quickly undressed himself.

He was in need. His manhood was standing hard and proud. It was a warrior’s arrow poised and primed ready to fly from the bow.

Being carried upstairs was as much foreplay as I was going to get. He got straight down to business, opening the cabinet drawer to get out the lube.

At his instruction I got on the bed and lay on my back against the pillows. He then arranged me in one of his favourite sex positions with my left leg elevated up on his right shoulder. It’s a position that allows him maximum penetration, suiting the shape and angle of his penis.

Placing the head of his greased cock against my anus he entered me with a single powerful thrust, burying his shaft to the hilt. Gripping my right shoulder with his left hand and hooking his right arm around my raised thigh he slowly pulled his cock out of me almost all the way, leaving only the arrowhead in, so to speak, and then he let fly again, thrusting sharply forwards making me grunt and moan as the head hit target.

He fucked me hard and deep, forbidding me to fondle and pet my pup because he enjoyed watching it bounce in tune with his thrusts. He was intent on pleasuring himself before giving a thought to my needs, which sounds mean, but isn’t. Altruism isn’t a natural aspect of sexual activity, in many respects it’s imposed, an outcome of modern social conditioning. Sometimes it’s good to be a little bit selfish in order to get what you need. It can give out a message of sexual confidence that inspires your partner, especially if they have a submissive core.

The Dom/sub dynamic is particularly potent during sex. I exist to fulfil my dominants physical needs and to serve their pleasure. In doing so my own needs are also served. Dick’s enjoyment of my body and his assertive control over it aroused me even more and made my own orgasm when it finally came all the more intense.

It was afterwards, as we lay cuddling in post coital contentment, that I asked the question, which had been on my mind ever since Lee had informed me he and Bethany had arranged their official engagement party.

“Dick,” I kissed his sweat damp chest and cuddled closer to him, “remember I told you about Lee’s engagement party the weekend after next?”

“I remember, hun,” he murmured, his voice drowsy.

“Well, with it being a party and a special occasion,” I paused, trying to find a subtle way of putting it. There wasn’t one. I resorted to bluntness. “I want to have a few beers, you know by way of celebration. Lee’s my best friend. I have to help him celebrate.” I lobbed in a rhyming joke. “He’ll think I’m queer if I don’t have a beer.”

There was no pause in between my asking and his reply. It came like lightning.

“No.”

I was taken aback, but not defeated. I tried again, inserting a coaxing note in my voice. “Come on, Dick. It’s my best friend’s engagement party.” I felt a need to repeat this basic fact, as if hoping reiteration would somehow make a difference. Perhaps he hadn’t quite understood the significance?

“I’m well aware of that, baby,” he gently patted my bare bum. “It doesn’t change anything.”

All my contentment vanished. “I can’t believe you’re saying no to me having a drink at my friend’s party.” I rolled away from him and sat up.

“Why ever not?” He hooked an arm behind his head and gazed at me, his expression calm. “You were told no alcohol. You were also told there’d be no review of the decision for six months at the earliest. It’s been six weeks.”

“Eight weeks actually, Dick. One night is all I’m asking for, a reprieve for one night so I can enjoy the party.”

Dick sat up glancing at the bedside clock. “Time is moving on, honey, you’d better get dressed and make a start on dinner. Shane will be home soon.”

“Dick?”

“Be a sweetheart and bring my case up, it’s in the hall. I need my toilet bag. I didn’t have time to shave this morning. I’d better do it before Shane gets home in case he’s in one of his stubble sensitive moods.”

His message was clear: subject closed. I love Dick, and I’m talking about the man here and not the appendage, but at that moment in time I felt like punching him.

Quickly gathering my clothes together I went into the main bathroom down the hall and gave my pleasure zones a good wash before re-dressing and going downstairs to the kitchen, bypassing and ignoring Dick’s case in the hall. If he wanted it he could get it himself. I was sick of being a one-man hotel staff. I was expected to be everything from manager to chambermaid to cook and now case carrying bellboy.

I took up where I’d left off when Dick arrived home, peeling potatoes to make into mash to go with the chicken stroganoff I’d made for dinner. It wasn’t long before I heard him descend the stairs and then re-ascend them with his case, leaving an exasperated reproof reverberating around the hall.

“You’re a most ungracious man at times, Gillibran Brown.”

I pulled a sour face by way of reply. I couldn’t help but feel the circumstances hadn’t been looked at in the right way - from my point of view. Lee is my best friend.

His engagement party would be a special occasion. I wanted to fully participate in it by having a few celebratory drinks with him and other partygoers.

Shaved, showered and freshly attired in well cut black trousers and a white collarless shirt Dick came into the kitchen and pleasantly enquired if he could help with anything. I shook my head. Pulling a chair from under the breakfast table he sat down, crossing one long leg elegantly over the other, resting his fine hands on his knee in an attitude of relaxation. It was a pose that used to set my heart fluttering in the days when he was my employer and not my lover. I used to secretly lust for him when he ventured into the kitchen to have a little chat and ask how my day had been. I loved it, but not this evening, this evening I was annoyed with the employer turned lover.

He knew I was annoyed, but was unaffected by it. “You can’t seriously have believed I’d approve you having a drink, Gilli. Even if this were a straightforward case of punishment I would have said no. Punishment is punishment regardless of the occasion. We’re not operating a flexitime system here. You can’t suddenly take a few hours off to attend a friend’s party. I’m afraid it’s a case of sad, but too bad. Besides, enjoyment isn’t dependent on booze. You’ve got to get out of the habit of equating a good time with alcohol. You’ll have the company of friends, there’ll be nice food and you’ll be able to dance. You were moaning not so long ago about never getting a chance to go dancing with a younger crowd.”

“I’m busy, Dick. I haven’t got time for chit chat.” I vigorously sliced a cantaloupe melon in half and then used my fingers to gut it, flicking strings of mucousy seeds onto kitchen paper.

“Sulking won’t change the situation, nor will it make any better of it.”

“I’m not sulking. I’m pissed off. I think I have a right to be pissed off in the circumstances.”

“No.” Dick uncrossed his legs and stood up. “You don’t. Being pissed off suggests you’ve been wronged in some way and you haven’t. It’s your duty to respect household authority and the decisions stemming from it without resorting to sulking when the decisions don’t suit you. You’re trying to top from the bottom yet again, Gilli. It’s not on.”

“Like I said, Dick, I’m busy.”

“Let go of the resentment, before it lands you in bother. You are not going to win this. We’ll wear you out before you wear us out.”

With that ominous statement he walked out of the kitchen. I stared after him in peeved frustration. His refusal to even consider a temporary reprieve had thrown me.

I’d convinced myself not only would he come onside, but he’d also help present my case to Shane and get my pass officially stamped so to speak. I hadn’t imagined for a second he’d be so uncompromising. Dick is never uncompromising, not with me.

I took my temper out on the melon stabbing the knife into it while muttering bad words. Feeling no better for having murdered it in cold juice I callously skinned it and chucked its remains into a glass bowl along with some canned pineapple and pears.

Decreeing it a dessert I banged it in the fridge to chill down.

Once I’d finished all preparations I walked into the lounge where Dick was sitting perusing the racing section in the newspaper, marking this and that with a pen. He was so engrossed he didn’t hear me approach and jumped when I spoke his name, which made me want to say
‘ha-ha’
in a character from The Simpson’s kind of way. I kept my juvenile spite to myself, saying instead, “I’ve made chicken Stroganoff for dinner. It’s in the oven with the mash and vegetables. It’s all cooked and in serving dishes. It should keep warm until Shane gets in and is ready to eat. There’s a fresh fruit salad in the fridge along with a jug of cream and the percolator is all ready to switch on when you want coffee.”