Tales from Snippettsville Issue 18bySnippettsville Group©
Hello, and welcome to the eighteenth 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
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Contents of Issue 18
Jessop Quickie by Champagne1982
The Answer by Lancelot Knight
Always a Snag by Alex de Kok
Kathy and Jake sitting in a tree by Boxlicker101
Banner, (c)Quasimodem, 2003
Header Picture, (c)Quasimodem, 2003
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004
Now read on...
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Jessop Quickie by Champagne1982
"Don't wait up!" Cheri shouted as her mother heard the front door open.
"Just a sec--" Katrina lapsed into silence when she realized that her daughter had escaped out the door. She looked out the window in time to see Randy McRae's truck cross the bridge over Hope Creek, going south out of town. Turning to her husband, Jordan, she said, "I wonder what she meant by not waiting up. I tell ya, Jordan, I hope she's making the right choices."
"You are the best mother in the world, darling. I've no doubt that Cheri knows exactly what she's doing." He stood and took his wife into his arms, "That young Randy seems to be dependable and intelligent." Jordan frowned as he looked out the window, "McRae's place is just down by Willott's Creek isn't it?"
"I think so. Why, baby?" Katrina turned around again following Jordan's gaze.
"He'd better not hurt my little girl. Ever!" He growled against his wife's neck, trying to suppress his thoughts. Unwelcome visions of his daughter and Randy, naked and enraptured, in passion were, perversely, exciting him. He could imagine Cheri's red curls spread across McRae's chest as she kissed her way downward --
"God! I want you." He sucked at Katrina's earlobe, his palms swept upwards over her breasts. Her soft flesh filled his hands and he squeezed, whispering, "I love you. Let me." Her nipples stiffened in response. Jordan moved to press his erection against Katrina's luscious ass.
With the ease of familiarity, Katrina leaned back against her husband, unfastening her jeans. Jordan's fingers had already opened her blouse and were reaching between her breasts to unclasp her bra. She pushed the denim down and off, as Jordan smoothed her top garments over her shoulders and arms.
Without missing a beat, he rid himself of his pants and underwear. His cock was hard and proud as it stood up from his own auburn curls. Grunting, Jordan held his thick shaft in his fist, stroking it, testing it and slid it against his wife's crease.
While he thrust into her welcoming heat, his eyes closed. Again an image of Cheri, splayed and ready for fucking, invaded his mind. He could almost imagine sinking into -- "Fuck me Katrina!" His palm moved and slapped her hip, stinging his hand with the sharpness of the impact.
Not suspecting where her husband's thoughts lie, Katrina rocked back against Jordan. She loved being filled by his thick cock and moved sensually. They fucked. Both husband and wife luxuriated in it, drawing their pleasure out as long as possible. Katrina was panting and rolling her hips with more urgency.
Jordan reached down around her, through her kinky bush to find her clit. He knew with a certainty how to touch her. Katrina let out a low, guttural moan and stilled. Jordan felt her clench around him and with a twisting grind, deep into her, he held his cock still. The ripples of her orgasm almost sucked his prick and he could feel his cum rising.
Leaning back, Jordan looked up at the ceiling and was assailed with another glimpse of fantasy. The brown eyes of his daughter closed as the first scalding drops of his semen landed on her lips, "No!" Jordan's shout came tortured up from his soul as his cum spurted around his wife's womb. His breathing sobbed against her shoulder when he bent forward over her back. Holding Katrina close against him, Jordan murmured, "I love you, darling."
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The Answer by Lancelot Knight
When his Aunt Louisa died, Dan wasn’t sure how he should feel. They’d never been particularly close. A couple pastoral summers in Snippetsville when he was a kid was all he vaguely remembered. Occasionally he'd scrawl her hurried letters or postcards when he vacationed in Hawaii. So all he felt was an impersonal, ominous question: “Why?”
His mother had wanted him to go to the funeral in Snippetsville, so for her sake he was pulling off the interstate, taking the county road.
It was easy enough to find St. Anne’s: it was just a block off Main.
A number of relatives and friends were standing about awkwardly in front of the church. Mechanically, Dan shook hands with those that he knew and introduced himself to those he didn’t. He hugged his mother when she broke into fresh rivulets of tears every so often.
Dan noticed a woman, with hair the color of rain darkened cedar, standing by herself in the corner. She wore a black dress that went a bit above her knees, revealing, in a casual manner, stunning legs. Perhaps the dress wasn’t especially expensive, but she gave it a nimbus of elegance. Her coral-colored lips were full. Like the dress there was a hint of something else about her mouth—an unconscious sensuality. Every now and then she talked to one or another of the locals, but that was the extent of her conversation. Dan watched her narrow tongue graze her luscious lower lip.
After the burial, there was a gathering at Aunt Louisa's house. The lovely woman sought him out in the crowd.
“I’m Carol,” she introduced herself. “I took care of your aunt the last few years.” She handed Dan a shoebox.
“What’s this?” He opened it tentatively.
“It is all the letters and postcards that you sent your aunt. She saved them all.”
“But they were just casual throwaways.”
“I know that and you know that, and probably so did your aunt. But she pretended not to.”
Dan lifted an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Every so often she would take out the shoebox and read all your cards and letters from years before as if she had just received them. She would say, ‘Look what Dan has sent me. Such a thoughtful boy.’” Carol added, almost coyly, “I think she was in love with you, just a bit.”
The revelation depressed Dan. The vague feeling of apprehension loomed larger. Why? he wondered. Why?
Carol took him by the hand. “Can I show you the upstairs?”
They found a shadowy room. Suddenly Dan had Carol against the wall, her black dress hiked up to her waist. She was wearing black stockings that looked sensual against her white thighs. Dan was grinding his mouth against hers, as if he could lose himself in her mouth.
Carol responded, softly moaning, pressing her breasts against his chest, undulating her hips against his leg, panting. He found that he was immediately rock-hard. His fingertips grazed her dampness.
He pulled her panties aside, and his shaft penetrated her swiftly. She sighed into his ear. Serpentinely, she wound a leg around him, leaning back against the wall, welcoming his thrusting desire with a soft smile. As Dan’s cum pulsed deep into her pussy, she shuddered, holding onto his shoulders, and came with him.
Dan, as he climaxed, lifted his head like a stallion into the shadowy air. He thought of Aunt Louisa, lying in the cold ground. He felt Carol’s warm, moist breath on his cheek, heard her soft whimper of surrender, and he realized that he had found the answer.
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Always a Snag by Alex de Kok
To a casual observer the floating snag would seem innocuous, as would the bubbles around it, about thirty feet out from the grassy bank where Barbara Abbott was sunning herself alone this Tuesday afternoon. Most of her friends were in college, or working, but Barbara had some time free so she was taking the sun. Barbara was young, slender, brown-haired. And naked, for this was the Lady Iothane Institute on Umbra Island. A nudist camp.
Barbara watched the snag for a while, wondering why it bothered her, and then realised. While the other occasional floating debris drifted slowly along with the current, this one didn't. Barbara was curious and as a straight-A student, she liked to satisfy her curiosity. On an impulse she could never explain properly, Barbara got up, ran down into the water and launched herself into a flat dive into the lake. A strong swimmer, she took only a few strokes to reach the snag, where she was startled by a sudden splashing.
A head broke the surface, cyclopean diving-mask reflecting the afternoon sun. Barbara reached out and grabbed the figure by the arm.
"Let go! I'm stuck. A damned branch has caught my harness."
Startled, Barbara realised she knew the voice. "Cheryl? Cheryl Benoit?"
"Hi, Barbara." Resigned tone, apologetic look on the pretty teenager's face as she pushed her mask up. "Damned snag."
A few yards away another head broke the surface. Barbara beckoned and the figure swam closer.
"Give me a hand here, Billy. Cheryl's got herself caught." Billy Daniels swam over and between them they freed Cheryl from the branch.
"Come on, the two of you. Over to the beach," said Barbara. On the beach the two teenagers discarded their scuba gear. Cheryl was wearing a bikini, Billy swim shorts. "Why?" said Barbara.
"Blame me," said Cheryl. "I wanted to know more about this place. Billy suggested the snag as a shield."
"Next time go with the current," Barbara said dryly. "Okay," she said, "strip!"
"Huh?" said Billy, trying not to stare at Barbara's nakedness.
"Strip. We're going to the office."
"Are you going to report us?" said Cheryl, her tone resigned.
"Hell, no," said Barbara. "I'm going to get you visitor passes and show you around. You'll never find out what naturism is about by skulking offshore. Why didn't you ask me?"
"I didn't know you were a member," said Cheryl, finally allowing herself to really look at her friend. "All-over tan suits you."
"I like it. Come on, get your clothes off."
Billy and Cheryl looked at each other, then at Barbara. Barbara laughed. "Never been naked together?"
Cheryl flushed and shook her head. "Not yet," she said, with a meaningful smile at Billy, reaching behind herself for the fastening of her bikini top, discarding the top and then pushing down the bottoms.
Billy stood, embarrassed. Barbara looked at Cheryl. "Grab him!"
A moment later a mortified Billy stood naked, his swim shorts round his ankles, his prick well on its way to a sizeable erection. Both girls stared at it.
"Had him yet?" asked Barbara.
Cheryl shook her head. "Not yet."
"I can't take the two of you to the office with that flag flying. Take him into the bushes, Cheryl. Fuck him, blow him or jack him off, whatever, but get him soft. I'll wait here," Barbara said, making herself comfortable.
Billy and Cheryl looked at each other. Cheryl smiled, and held out her hand. "Let's go, Billy. Your choice, lover, but if it was up to me, I'd opt for the fuck."
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Kathy and Jake, sitting in a tree by Boxlicker101
As owner of the only drug store in town, Henry Patterson probably knows more about the citizens of Snippetsville than anyone else; fortunately, his integrity and professionalism keep him from gossiping. He knew about Kathy McCormick’s impending mastectomy from her medications and after her operation, he sold breast prostheses to her. From ordinary gossip, which he never passed along, he knew when her husband left, and thought him a stupid asshole for doing so. The operation and abandonment by her husband saddened the pharmacist for he considered Kathy one of the nicest persons around. To say he was elated when he sold her birth control pills would be exaggerating, but he was glad she was regaining control of her life.
Kathy was glad too. Ever since Jake Olson had brought his injured son, Ronald, to the high school office, Kathy had been thinking about him. She smiled every time she remembered Jake, stammering like a sophomore in trouble, asking for a date. Kathy had accepted with alacrity. The first night they went to dinner and talked like life-long friends. They had gone out several times since, but not to bed yet; both knew they had something special and rushing things might ruin the relationship. Kathy had met Thomas, the older son, and Ronald. Both knew her from her job at their school and already considered her to be cool but this was their first time meeting her socially and all quickly developed a fondness for one another.
Kathy was disinclined toward casual sex. Except for a short interlude with a friend from pre-marriage days, she had not been with anybody since her husband left, and she considered the time with the friend to be therapy, not lust. Besides her attraction to Jake, which grew stronger every day, she was feeling sexual urges and the birth control pills were in anticipation of when the time would be right with Jake.
Jake was feeling horny too. Since his wife died, he had masturbated occasionally but that was getting to be less satisfying, especially after being around sweet, beautiful Kathy. His feelings were growing for her too, and he knew it was almost time to take their relationship to the next level, making love, probably in the small house where she lived alone. Being aware of her lack of breasts, he had some trepidation, not because he thought her deficient but because he dreaded making some blunder.
One night they were dancing, he moving across the floor awkwardly and she gracefully, when he decided the time was right. As he held her, he fully realized she was lacking nothing; she was all the woman he could want. “Tonight is the night” he told himself. “But how do I ask Kathy?”
As those thoughts passed through Jake’s mind, Kathy looked into his eyes asking, “Jake, do you want to stop at my house for coffee?”
Neither drank any coffee. There had been kisses before but none like the ones they shared just inside her door, nor like the ones shared in her bedroom. Jake kissed her mouth and down her throat as he removed Kathy’s blouse but not her bra. He passed over where her breasts used to be, kissing his way down her body, while removing her skirt and panties.
Jake ate Kathy’s pussy, bringing her to a loud climax; then he entered her with his condom-clad cock, fucking slowly, both of them moaning from pleasure and whispering of love, until she climaxed again and he followed seconds later.
As they lay snuggling after making love, they agreed that waiting had been wise and the time was right.
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