Author's note.
Although this is a fictional story it was inspired by a true occurrence, involving an observation I made of two people while out for a drive one spring evening.
An old gentleman accompanied by a young lady out walking down a quiet country lane. Myself and my husband both noticed this 'odd' couple as we slowed down to pass them, the man having a dog on a leash, there was something about the way the girl looked up at him, and he gazed down at her, while they were deep in conversation.
I recall thinking at the time, the way they looked at each other told a story...
**
Chapter 1.
Over the exciting sound of a woman's breathless moaning another noise, subtle at first, brings panic rudely to Harry's aroused mind. This noise is the bathroom door handle being tried quickly followed by loud knocking and his name being called.
"Harry?...Harry!...what are you doing?"
Stopping the porn video he'd been watching and pulling earphones off, placing his tablet carefully down upon the toilet cistern, Harry replies to his wife's urgent enquiry.
"I'm at the toilet dear...it's alright...I'll be out in a minute."
Hearing the anxiety of being discovered within the tone of his own voice adds to the guilt currently consuming a man who suddenly feels so stupid...and angry...caught in the act again.
Stupid because he'd been so foolish in attempting to alleviate his pent up desires while she was in the house, and angry at her because she seemed to possess a sixth sense and know when he was doing it.
There's a brief moment of silence from the other side of the door before sharp, cruel, mocking words are delivered.
"Oh I see...so why do you need the door locked?...ay?...tell me that!..dirty fucker!...I know what you're doing in there..."
More bangs on the door, this time much louder reverberarte through the tiny room.
"...you dirty fucker...aren't you a bit old to be doing that!"
Harry winces at the profanity, she never used to swear, always so polite and mild mannered, a perfect lady...before the illness.
All he can do is repeat and try to placate, "I'm at the toilet... I'll be out in a minute Ann...everything's alright."
Silence again, then shuffling footsteps away from the door accompanied by quiet grumbling. Standing there for a moment over the toilet, watching his erection shrink down while a thumping heart rate slowly returns to normal.
Sighing, Harry curses himself inwardly before putting his cock back in his underparts and zipping up.
Ann was right in a way, he was too old to be doing 'this'. At 77 it came as a surprise to the retired doctor that he still had a very healthy libido and fully functioning tackle to enjoy it with, although these days it was by his own hand rather than his wife's involvement.
Gathering up the tablet and headphones Harry unlocks the bathroom door, heading out into the unknown, would she continue to scold him or would she have already forgotten the incident?...something which had happened before.
Fortunately Ann had gone back upstairs to the bedroom and no confrontation was forthcoming, the only thing that greeted Harry on exiting the bathroom was Charlie, a rather clingy red haired pomeranian with a keen sense of what time of day it was...walkies time.
"Yes yes I know...I'm on it... you little shite."
The emphasis here being on 'shite', Harry loved to swear in a common tongue when nobody was around, it pleased him immensely somehow. The son of a wealthy accountant he'd enjoyed a privileged upbringing but felt an affinity with the working classes, or 'commoners' as his father would have referred to them, during the near forty years of service with the NHS they'd made up the majority of his patients.
After getting ready to go out with Charlie, during which the tiny dog does his usual routine of running madly around his owner and barking in that shrill voice of his, Harry goes to the hallway and shouts up the staircase to his wife, "I'm taking Charlie out...won't be long dear...love you."
No reply.
In the past the old doctor would have checked on his wife's condition, his conscience not permitting him to leave until acquiring a positive reply, but nowadays he was used to Ann's lack of response.
'You get used to it', an old friend had once said...regarding the same illness with his wife...but Harry had never gotten used to it, 'it' was horrible...a living nightmare.
Ann had been diagnosed with alzheimers 2 years previously, sometimes referred to as the long goodbye, a cruel but very apt description.
The woman he'd spent over 50 years of his life with often regarded him as a stranger, or perhaps her father...or her brother. On more than one occasion he'd been an intruder in their home, Ann running screaming into the street shouting for help from passers by. The police had been called by one concerned motorist, so convinced that Ann was in real danger.
It was only a matter of time before she had to go in a care home, the unavoidable outcome. But, Harry was determined to hold onto her for as long as possible.
Closing the front door and locking it, the familiar crunch...crunch of the gravel driveway underfoot accompanies Harry to the car, a white, vintage 70's corniche he'd treated himself to upon retiring several years previously, the old rollers were the best, in Harry's opinion.
Opening the passenger door and watching with a grin as Charlie hops up and into the footwell, a comical little dog and a gift for Ann, Harry had at first not cared for him much, preferring larger breeds like labradors or alsations. But Charlie had soon wormed his way into Harry's heart, his cute features and comical manner proving too endearing.
Harry would normally have taken him for a walk down a local bridleway and out into the fields and woodland that surrounded the quaint little village where they lived, but the previous day poor Charlie had almost been killed by several fox hounds that had escaped from nearby kennels.
The local hunt was a menace and had gotten into trouble numerous times with landowners and members of the public out walking their pets.
If it hadn't have been for Harry's quick reaction, scooping the little dog up and hiding him under his jacket, Charlie would have been torn to pieces.
As he got into and started the corniche he tried hard to forget the incident, normally a quiet patient man, losing his temper was always regrettable and Harry had a tendency to dwell on such things, he'd lost it big time and no doubt his choice words delivered to the apologetic huntsman were still ringing in the poor chaps ears.
Leaving the driveway and out onto a narrow street that constituted the main road through the village, Harry headed off to look for a new place to walk Charlie, he simply couldn't relax knowing that yesterday's incident could be repeated, and any excuse to get out the house was good.
Ann had been more difficult to cope with these past few weeks, her condition worsening, but for the time being she was alright to leave alone for short periods.
Trying to put his worries to the back of his mind, Harry switched on classic fm, cursed at an add break before switching it off, then allowed his mind to drift back to this mornings secret activity, feeling himself begin to firm up as he recalled the porn video.
This one had been something different from his usual brand of relief, normally preferring two girls one guy clips, this mornings entertainment was in the form of an amateur dogging video which he found particularly exciting.
It was a pity Ann had disturbed him, but tomorrow was saturday and she would be going to stay at their daughters house for the weekend, so plenty of time to indulge curiosity then.
The dogging video had featured a rather buxom young blonde entertaining a variety of different men, six in all, of different ages and colours. As he drove the big roller Harry wondered absently, if such things went on around his own patch. Sure, it was mainly rural but there was a town nearby and lots of lonely country lanes where such illicit practices could be conducted in relative privacy, after dark at least.
It was while pondering this idea that Harry noticed one such secluded lane leading off the main road to his right, deciding to check it out he indicated and slowed down to turn in, noticing the small sign on the grass verge while doing so, 'Highfield lane'.
Driving a short distance down the leafy lane, there's a small area under a clump of overhanging trees where a car can be parked...perfect.
"Well Charlie boy...looks like we've found a new walkies place for you." Pulling over and switching off the engine brings excited yapping from the pooch.
Having being driven to walking places in the past he knows what's coming next, "Alright alright keep your bloody fur on I'm coming."
Harry exits the car and quickly lets Charlie out, only just managing to grab the end of the lead before he runs off, cursing the little dogs excited state in the process.
Locking up and beginning to walk, Harry is immediately taken in by the tranquil beauty unfolding before him.
It's a fine and sunny, early may evening and once away from under the trees welcoming warmth greets the elderly doctor, rounding a corner the lane opens out running straight for around a half mile before snaking back through more woodland in the distance.
