tagChain StoriesTales from Snippettsville Issue 01

Tales from Snippettsville Issue 01

bySnippettsville Group©

Hello, and welcome to the first issue of Tales from Snippettsville, Short Stories From A Small Town.



If you want to know what it's all about, go to Snippettsville Group

If you have any feedback, and let's face it, as writers we all love feedback, just click on the author's name, in blue at the head of their piece. If you want to make a general comment on the group, click on the group link above.

Contents of Issue 1
Introducing Molly by PierceStreet
Kindred Cunning by Wildsweetone
Hannah and the Jammer by MathGirl
Every Cloud by Alex de Kok

Illustrations
Header Picture, (c)Couture, 2003
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2003

Now read on...


* * * * *

Introducing Molly by PierceStreet

I'm not sure what is appropriate for the day after Granddad's funeral, but I suspect it shouldn't be enjoying Molly's strong legs pumping a bike, and her cute ass astride the seat.

My family was back in Snippettsville for a few days for the funeral. I was born here 18 years ago, but we'd moved when I was seven. It was a great place to be a kid. I remember playing in the woods, and walking downtown to buy CrackerJacks. I had a freedom there I did not have when we moved to a city four hours away.

After the funeral, my girl cousin and I were playing frisbee in the backyard to get away from the morbid feelings in the house. Molly's yard abutted my Uncle's and she wandered over and played with us for a bit. We all sat on the grass and talked. One thing led to another, and Molly invited me for a bike ride and picnic the next day, to "take my mind off things".

After she left, my 16 year old cousin filled me in on her. Graduated the previous June, her boyfriend had gone off to college, but fallen in love with someone else. Molly worked at the diner in town.

Snippettsville was having an Indian Summer that October. It was in the 90's already as I followed Molly out of town. A couple miles out, we turned onto a dirt road. We stopped at a farm pond. "This is my grandparents farm, the house is a mile away. This is my private place.," she told me.

We spread a blanket and downed the sandwiches and a beer each. Afterwards we laid and talked and became friends. She looked so cute, her shoulder length red hair, a skinny body in a thin t-shirt. Her large eyes seemed to take in everything.

"How about a swim?" she asked suddenly.

"No swim suit," I responded.

"I never wear a suit here." Molly leapt to her feet, peeled off her T, and skimmed her shorts and panties down in one move. She stood there, her weight on one leg, her hand on a hip waiting for me.

I was struck dumb. Molly in a bikini would have left me breathless. My eyes traveled down her body – she was a true redhead – and back up. I saw slight impatience in those green eyes, so I quickly stood and shed my clothes. I had a little trouble getting my underpants off my stiff cock. We jumped into the pond.

We played for a while as kids do in water, but we weren't quite kids. She swam up to where I stood in shallow water, and wrapped her legs around me, put her arms around my neck and kissed me. We kissed again, long and hard.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I shook my head no. "I had to ask. A skank didn't ask my ex-boyfriend when she should have." She repositioned herself on me.

"Ever have a serious girlfriend?" I shook my head again. "Are you a virgin?"

"Yes."

She wiggled a little. "Do you realize where your cock is?" She'd positioned it so my tip was at her entrance.

"If you want to stop being a virgin, pull me closer."

I did.

I lasted longer later, back on the blanket. And longer still the next time.

"My parents are coming back to settle the estate in a couple weeks."

"I don't want a boyfriend," she said dashing my hope. "I do want another afternoon like this with you, though. Hurry back."

* * * * *

Kindred Cunning by wildsweetone

Roger peered through the rain and smeared grease on his windscreen at the blurred lights glimmering through the windows of the diner. The hot food he'd bought for their dinner steamed up the inside of his truck windows. Darkness from the thunderstorm had fallen quickly tonight.

He turned the key in his truck, listening as the engine coughed into asthmatic life, then drove off splattering mud over the sidewalk. Punching the 'on' button of his radio with a clean finger, he grinned as his baritone rang out the sounds of Michael Bolton's 'Can I touch you there?'

"Baby, tell me what you feel…" the lumberjack in his plaid shirt turned down his driveway recalling the special moments he'd spent with Samantha last summer, the moments when she'd gone from virgin to woman in one swoop.

Now, squinting through the unclear windscreen, he slammed on the brakes stopping barely a foot from a drenched Maggie. She looked like she'd been standing in his driveway waiting for several hours. Her glossy locks were plastered to her head. In the headlights, she looked remarkably like she was pointing a shotgun directly at his face.

"Holy shit!" He ducked down behind the dashboard shouting, "Maggie, Maggie honey! It's me! What's wrong? Put the gun down baby."

"I'll put this gun down when you understand, Roger. Get out of the truck."

"Maggie, please honey. What's this all about?"

"Just shut up and walk." She prodded him ahead.

"Okay, Okay! I'm walking. See. Put the gun down honey. It'll go off if you're not careful."

Pushing him in the back again she ordered, "Move buster. Get up them stairs."

Without looking back, he walked ahead of her. Water streamed from their bodies hitting the floor with loud plops as they made their way up the stairs.

"In there."

"But Maggie..."

"Do as you're told for once in your life damnit." The gun clicked. He walked quickly into the dark room.

"Sit on the chair." He did as she bid.

"Don't move or I'll blast your ears off."

"Maggie. Please, can't we talk about this?"

"There's nothing to discuss. Now shut the hell up." She covered his eyes with some rough material. Blinded, he listened to her grunt as she climbed off the bed, then felt her hands tug his as she tied each hand to the arms of the chair.

"Maggie, this is insane… Plmmmuuggshhhh," he garbled as she stuffed his mouth with sweetly scented material. "Mmmaagggglmmmgg!"

Ignoring him, she unbuttoned his wet shirt, then undid the button and zip of his jeans. Reaching inside with her hand, she smiled at his groan when she gripped him firmly.

As Maggie stroked, his moans intensified and he struggled to lift his hands. His groans spurred her on, stroking faster, then so slowly her hands had almost stopped. His grunts were moments of frustrated pain mingled with pleasure.

She knelt in front of him and took him into her mouth. He jerked in the chair.

"Sit still Roger. Let me finish."

"Nmegghhh."

"I know, honey. I know how much you love me doing this. I remember."

Unable to control himself he felt his cock expanding in her mouth, her little teeth nibbling gently and her tongue working magical charms around and around his throbbing head. He exploded in her mouth then endured listening to her slurping and sucking him clean.

"There now. Doesn't that feel better Roger?"

"Shhhmnktt."

"Oh. Wait up." She stood then took her makeshift panty gag from his mouth. "What was that?"

"Maggie you shouldn't have done that. You're my sister for heavens sake!"

* * * * *

Hannah and the Jammer by MathGirl

Hannah had been without a lover for almost a year, since the abrupt departure of one Orville J. 'Jammer' Gillette. Mr Gillette had been assistant football coach at Snippettsville High until he was discovered in flagrante delicto buggering a sophomore place kicker in the locker room after practice.

Gillette had been arrested, and several other present and former Snippettsville High students had come forward and told the cops of past experiences with their coach. During the police investigation, a search of Gillette's apartment turned up an extensive feminine wardrobe, complete with lacy undergarments and sheer nighties, in the Jammer's size. Of particular interest was a pair of chic black platform shoes with ankle straps and five-inch stiletto heels in size 12 EEE. Also found were assorted whips, ropes, and handcuffs used for indoor sporting events.

The most damning evidence uncovered was a collection of Polaroid photographs of Mr Gillette, clad only in crotchless panty hose, on either the giving or receiving end of a vigorous cornholing. One of the pictures showed a menage a trois in which he was both buggerer and buggeree. In another team event photo, the Jammer was the central figure in a daisy chain with all six members of the previous season's defensive backfield (linebackers included). The coach had indeed established a close, personal relationship with his student athletes. The opened case of hospital size jars of Vaseline and the enema bags the cops found were not introduced into evidence at the trial.

Gillette was subsequently charged with multiple counts of sex with a minor, sodomy, and various other morals raps. In a plea bargain, the Jammer's lawyer got the sodomy ....... um ...... beef reduced to following too close, but he was convicted of the other felonies and awarded a dime stretch at the state prison. Since he had been a rather indifferent lover, Hannah had been under the impression that Orville didn't care much for sex. She was understandably shocked when his escapades while swinging from the other side of the plate became public knowledge.

* * * * *

Every Cloud by Alex de Kok

"Goddammittohell!" He sat back and glared at the computer screen in frustration. Black and lifeless, it gave a dull reflection of his frustrated face. Nothing more. There was power, because the monitor ready-light glowed redly. He stood and checked all of the cables. Nothing. Inspiration dawned and he rifled through the papers in his desk drawer. Yes! On-site service. He reached for the phone….

Sitting in Hannah's diner two hours later, he looked out into the rain again. Because of the difficulty involved in a stranger actually finding his home, he'd arranged to meet the service engineer at the diner. The computer people hadn't been able to give an exact time, saying only that it would be 'after four, but certainly before six'. He glanced up. Molly, Hannah's young waitress, stood with the coffee jug.

"Refill, Jack?"

"Please." Molly was looking over his shoulder and he glanced out to see a station wagon pull into the parking lot. The driver got out and he sat back, disappointed. She came into the diner and Molly made her way over. He couldn't hear what was said but Molly pointed and the woman came over to him.

"Mr. Shaw. Jack Shaw?"

"Yes?"

"Hi. I'm Sally Aker, service engineer for Ace Computers. I understand you have a problem?"

Surprised, but not showing it, Jack stood. "Great! I asked to meet you here as my place is tricky to find. If you'd follow me, it's about five minutes drive."

Sally Aker smiled. "Lead on, Mr. Shaw."

Ten minutes later the cover was off his PC and Sally was probing inside. She turned to him. "Seems okay. It may be the monitor so I'll get my test set out of the car."

Sally connected the test monitor and rebooted Jack's PC. "What were you using last?"

"Word."

"Right, let's see if that comes up okay…, yes, that looks good. Ah! It wants to load a partially-completed file. Okay, let's see…."

Jack felt his face go red as his latest opus came up on the screen. 'I forgot I was working on that,' he thought. "Um, just move on to your tests if you want."

She gestured vaguely. "It's okay, this is fine for a test."

"It's not finished…"

"I can see that, but it's good." She looked round at him, a slight smile on her lips, a sparkle in her eye. "Are you Alex de Kok?"

Jack avoided her eyes. "Um, yes, I guess I am."

"Great! I've read all of your work on Literotica," Sally said. "You left some gaping holes in your 'Aunt Ellen' stories. Surely you're going to write some more?"

"Well, yeah, one day." Relief went through him. At least Sally Aker seemed to be a fan of his writing. "I've been told I need to write a sequel to 'Goody-Two-Shoes' as well."

"Yes! I have to know what happens to that odious Tony!"

Jack laughed. "Okay, maybe one day I will." He gestured. "Want a coffee?"

"Please. You're my last call today. Can I stay and talk about writing for a while?"

"Only if you'll stay to dinner." Jack laughed. "Actually I was planning on eating at Hannah's. Will you join me?"

"Yes, please." She grimaced. "I've been trying to get up the nerve to submit one of my own stories to Literotica."

"You should. What about?"

Sally smoothed her sweatshirt down over the swell of her breasts and licked her lips. She looked Jack in the eye. "I haven't actually finished it yet. I need to do some research. It's about a PC repair girl who seduces one of her customers."

* * * * *

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