Fellow Gentlemen.

Hello my friend and welcome to this one. I hope you are well. I would like to say after you have read this one, please go check out my co-author Eva, she has some amazing stories. Don’t forget to follow and press the love heart after each chapter. It really helps and is appreciated by us. Enjoy the story.

Before you read anymore I have to let you know, this story contains sexual and nudity scenes, extreme violance and lots of swear words, enjoy. 18+ is the correct age for reading this story.

It is time for us to step into this visual display.

A dark stormy evening has risen, hearing thunder rumbling in the distance with rain pouring deep within a forest in the middle of nowhere. A dark glistening saloon car with its engine turning, seeing between the elongated tree trunks rays of car lights, lighting up the forest surface; a deep hole still in the process of being dug, two occupied twitching bodybags lay parallel, muffled screaming and grunting come from within both of them, a small oxygen hole at the feet of each body bag. mud flying out several times, followed by a muddy shovel that lands on top of the pile of wet soil.

The Fellow Gent George emerges from the grave; he pulls up a dirty wooden ladder from within the grave, chucking it near the mud mound. Wearing all black but something that is noticeable is he is wearing blue latex gloves, his styled back black hair is now scruffy from all of that digging.

George shouts at the wiggling body bags, “Oh, be quiet! Soon you two can fuck in peace In the afterlife; for being a cheating bitch to your husband, I would have just shot you both, but well you’re not my wife and the contract said for you to suffer, Kate!”

He pulls one of the body bags near the grave, going round to the other side, pushing it in, falling for a second then hearing it thump into the muddy bottom, impact enough to take the air out of his or hers lungs; the other one is soon to follow, thumping on top of the other, the muffle cries for “Help!” , "Stop!” Are now just gasps for air, raindrops splashing down on the bodies black plastic coating.

George walks over to the mud pile, picks up the shovel, and begins putting the mud back into the grave.

We touch down in a botanical garden, a married couple are holding hands while walking along the path, both dressed in casual clothes. They are looking at the different flowers, such beauty with each kind and different shades of colours. I personally sneeze loads if the flowers are overpowering. A darkish blue, suited George walks towards the couple from the opposite direction, this time we see him his hair isn’t scruffy instead it’s styled and gelled back, but George could do with a shave, he has stubble around his face. The wife is pointing at a flower.

Hearing quacks coming from a fair size duck pond in the near distance, quacking to each other, a swan is swimming around like she owns the pond. The lady bends down while hooking a strand of chestnut hair over her ear to sniff a blossoming Cherry flower.

The Fellow Gent stops the couple, grabbing the arm of the lady, not tightly but enough for her to be startled.

The Fellow Gent says, “Gemma, we need to talk; I am George; it is about your father and his grandson, Luke.”

Before Gemma can say anything, her man asks, “Err, can I help you mate?”

George looks at the man, responding, "I don’t believe I was talking to you, mate. It is Gemma I need to speak with, so stand aside or be seated here.”

George continues telling the lady, “Let’s take a walk and have a talk.”

Gemma nods after tells her man, Neil. “It will be fine. Stay here.”

They kiss each other a few times while George begins whistling while looking around the botanical garden, seeing a squirrel run up a tree’s trunk.