FSE

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“Cup of tea…"

“…number three," the audience muttered half-heartedly, more engrossed in finding it on their bingo cards than engaging with the compere.

“Garden gate…"

“…number eight."

Stanah sighed, pressing his pink felt pen onto the cheap piece of paper. Just two more numbers and he'd have a full house. He could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of choosing between a cheap frying pan or a £10 bar tab. Again.

He looked across the white plastic table at the hunched husky opposite him.

“Do you need any help, auntie?" he asked.

“I'm fine, deary, don't you worry about me," she said, dipping her head closer to the table. She dabbed at her card and looked up at her nephew.

She smiled. “Number eight. See? I told you I was fine."

Stanah smiled back. He liked spending time with his aunt, but the weekly trip to the bingo was torture. He thought he had escaped being terrorised by numbers after he had finished his exams, but his aunt liked to go and his mother insisted he take her. With university still two months away, there was little else to do anyway.

He glanced at the border collie on stage. His tuxedo looked out of place for a Wednesday afternoon in a brusque Northern town, but it complemented his pelt perfectly. The jacket was neatly pressed, as were his trousers, while the bow tie stood out against the white of his neck fur.

Maybe being here wasn't all bad, he thought.

“Two little ducks… twenty-two," he said, finishing the sentence, clearly bored of the lacklustre crowd.

Stanah looked around the room. Most of the tables were similar to his, occupied by elderly women with younger relatives who were clearly there under duress. In the far corner there was a couple who looked like they had been coming every day for the past twenty years, while near the bathroom there was a hen party who were already on their third bottle of Pino grigio. Close proximity to the toilets was probably for the best.

“Dirty Girtie, number thirty."

Stanah's gaze swivelled back to the compere and he leaned back on his chair. He let his mind wander, wondering what lay under that neatly-pressed suit. He was certainly slim, but he could just see the contours of muscles camouflaged under his shirt. What else was he hiding? He licked his lips as his eyes moved further down. His pulse quickened as he started to mentally undress him, his cock awakening in his trousers as he did.

“Thee and me, twenty-three."

Instinctively, Stanah looked up and saw the collie staring directly at him. His ears blushed and he averted his gaze, only to catch sight of his aunt. Internally he screamed, urging his erection to go down, but he knew that thinking about it would only make matters worse.

He looked around the room in panic, hoping for a distraction, any distraction. The hen party seemed lively, maybe he could focus on them, at least until the time the fire in his loins was extinguished.

“Gateway to heaven, twenty-seven."

Dammit! Why did all of the calls have to be so goddamn suggestive? He groaned under his breath, praying his aunt would remain absorbed in the game. He looked at his own card and hoped he wouldn't get house – the last thing he needed right now was being forced to stand up.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the number wasn't there. He stared intently at the table, hoping its blankness would help him clear his mind. He closed his eyes and exhaled, numbers racing through his head as he focused on the couple he still needed.

He peeked at the dog. Boy, did he look cute. He shook his head and focused on his aunt. It looked like she was only one number away from getting a full house. Good for her. She needed another saucepan.

“Time for fun, forty-one."

Stanah stared at the border collie and sighed. Really? Time for fun? Was fate testing him? This was getting ridiculous. He felt a slight tingle in his pants again and tried to urge the sensation away, but every glimpse of the dog was only making it worse.

“Droopy drawers, forty-four."

Stanah closed his eyes again, his mouth going dry as he felt his cock swelling. He groaned, his thoughts transfixed on the cute border collie.

“Down on your knees, forty-three."

For fuck's sake! This was taking the piss. Stanah gulped, the smell of his arousal drifting past his nostrils. His heart turned cold as he remembered who was sitting opposite him. She mustn't know. She couldn't know. Shit, shit, shit!

“House!" someone called in the ether, indistinct and echoey as panic enveloped his mind. He needed to get out, he needed to escape, he needed to be alone with his treacherous thoughts.

“Someone's called house, let's check the card," he heard the compere say, his voice silky smooth, almost erotic. What the hell was happening? What was going on? And why was this occurring at the most embarrassing time?

He heard shuffling in front of him and saw his aunt's gaze transfixed on the stage. She looked disappointed, as if she had already thought of uses for the saucepan, but Stanah knew that she had more than enough pots in her kitchen. She'd get over it.

“We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen," the border collie said. “We'll take a fifteen-minute break and then we'll be back. Grab a drink at the bar or go and stretch your legs. My name is Max and I will see you in a short while."

The collie placed the microphone in its stand and walked off the stage, the silence of the room being replaced by the gentle hubbub of conversation. Stanah saw his aunt turn to face him and his heart skipped a beat, knowing that he still needed to leave in case his prurience was exposed.

“I'm just off to the bathroom auntie, do you want anything from the bar?"

“Just a G&T if you can, dearie. No rush though, I'll be right here."

She adjusted her spectacles and picked up the newspaper. She sniffed the air, a perplexed expression forming across her muzzle. Stanah's heart pounded, hoping she wouldn't say anything, the twitching of her whiskers like a death beat to his heart.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she looked down and started reading the rabid drivel on the front page. Diligently and with difficulty, Stanah extricated himself from his chair and headed to the bathroom, blushing with embarrassment all the way.

--

Stanah sat in the cubicle, his head in his hands. How could he have let his imagination run so wild? And in front of his aunt too? Dammit!

He checked his watch. Ten minutes until the next session. Ten minutes until he would be confronted by Max again. He rubbed his eyes to try and purify his thoughts.

There was a rap on the door.

“Is anyone in there?"

“Just a minute," Stanah called, flushing the chain even though the toilet hadn't been used. He undid the latch and strode out of the cubicle, nodding at whoever was on the other side of the door.

His stomach twisted when he saw Max staring back at him. He stopped in his tracks, feeling another tingle in his pants as his ears flushed bright red.

“Oh hey," the collie said sheepishly.

“Hey," Stanah replied, stepping to one side. “It's all yours."

“Thank you."

Time stood still as both canines looked each other over. Stanah's brain was urging him to run, but his feet suddenly felt leaden. Max was so much hotter close-up, the tone of his muscles far more evident than it had been on stage. The suit hung off him perfectly, while the little tufts of neck fur cascading over his bow tie were just adorable.

His gaze moved up to his eyes, oceans of azure in which he would happily dive, as he found himself drowning in a flood of forbidden desire.

He gulped, feeling the dryness in his throat.

“So," Max said. “Come here often?"

Stanah didn't know whether the pun was deliberate, but he blushed all the same.

“Er, erm, every week with my aunt," he spluttered. “You?"

Max laughed, playfully punching Stanah's arm.

“I work here silly, I'm here all the time."

“R..R..Right, but I haven't seen you before."

“I usually do weekends, busier crowds. I'm just covering for someone this week."

Stanah blushed even more. Had he deliberately put emphasis on the word 'covering' or was it all in his head? He didn't know. All he did know was there was a throbbing in his pants that wasn't being helped by being so close to the dog.

“I'm Max by the way," the collie said, holding out his paw. “But then you already knew that. And you are?"

“Stanah. My name is Stanah."

As he took hold of his paw, he felt a sharp tug and was twirled back into the cubicle. Before he could register what was happening, Max had bolted the door shut and pinned him against the wall. He could feel his hot breath on his whiskers as he moved his muzzle closer, those penetrating blue eyes undressing his soul.

“Well Stanah. Finally, we're alone," Max whispered, locking him into a stare. “Don't think I haven't been checking you out over the last hour. And judging by your scent, I think you've been checking me out too."

Stanah's ears turned crimson as Max squeezed the bulge in his shorts.

“Y'know, I spend my whole day drawing balls. Let's see what else I can draw."

Max winked. The sound of a zip unfastening punctured the heavy air, the beating of Stanah's heart threatening to overwhelm him.

“What if we get caught?" he hissed, trying to push himself away. Max held him firm.

“With these old duffers? Relax, no-one's going to hear us. As long as you don't scream too loud."

Stanah gulped as Max plucked out his cock, the cool air caressing the tip as it was exposed from its sheath. He kneaded it gently, delicate pads tracing its length as Stanah surrendered to the rising heat.

He sighed, moving forward to meet Max's lips, their tongues wrapping around each other in carnal lust. Stanah felt his cock swelling in Max's dexterous paw, tingles of electricity shooting through his body as the collie tightened his grip.

He gulped. He had forgotten how much he had missed this. He had forgotten how much he needed this. It had been ages since his last release and now the opportunity had presented itself in the most unorthodox of ways.

Max broke the kiss, a trail of saliva hanging from his lips as he looked lustfully into Stanah's eyes. The dog smiled, tipping his head back against the wall as the feelings of pleasure started to build.

In an instant, Max had dropped to his knees, scooping his tongue around Stanah's hard meaty length. The dog gasped as Max caressed the tip, tickling the slit with a delicate flick. He held it there a while, massaging it slowly as Stanah started to yip. With each passing bark, he completed another turn, teasing the dog with his expert technique.

Stanah closed his eyes as the pleasure increased, the waves building in intensity as Max continued his work. He balled his hands into fists, the tides threatening to overwhelm him as the collie slid the whole of his member into his mouth.

Stanah gipped as he felt the soft tongue massaging his cock, Max slowly getting into a rhythm as he gurgled away. Stanah placed his paws on the side of the collie's head, encouraging his movement as he thrusted into his muzzle in the desperate need of release.

The smell of sex permeated the cubicle, a miasma of arousal that was both cloying and intoxicating. Stanah breathed deeply, gripping Max's head tighter as he kept pounding into his mouth. His thrusts became more intense, the want to be milked overwhelming, as waves built upon waves in glorious tsunami.

With a pained whine, Stanah bucked into Max's muzzle, shooting thick ropes of cum down the back of his throat. He tried to clamp his mouth shut, but he couldn't stop a handful of whimpers as Max hilted his cock to extract the last drops of seed.

Everything went silent for a few seconds as Stanah came down from the heavens. Max then wrapped his tongue around his cock as he carefully withdrew, ensuring not a single splash was made on his pristine tuxedo.

He swallowed and then smiled, rising to plant another kiss on Stanah's lips. The taste of his essence was both inebriating and arousing, and he knew he would go again if only there were time.

“That was fantastic," he panted once their lips had parted. “You were amazing."

“I'm glad you enjoyed," Max said and Stanah swore he saw him blush for the first time that day. He checked his watch. “But alas I can't hang around much longer as I'm needed back on stage."

“Yeah," Stanah said sadly, “I guess you have to go. I hope to see you around though."

“I'm sure you will," Max said. “I'm here every weekend and for the rest of the week."

Max straightened out his suit and made his way out of the cubicle, leaving Stanah alone with the heaviness of his breath. He slumped onto the floor, his mind a confused cocktail of thoughts, his dick slowly retreating back into its sheath.

He knew he would have to clean up before seeing his auntie again, while he was sure she still wanted that blasted G&T. He'd better get going, otherwise she would start to worry where he was.

He sighed, rising to his feet, grasping at the door handle to steady his gait.

“Favourite of mine, sixty-nine," he heard from the hall.

Worth noting, he thought, a smile spreading across his muzzle. Maybe going to the bingo wasn't so bad after all.