tagChain StoriesTales from Snippettsville Issue 19

Tales from Snippettsville Issue 19

bySnippettsville Group©

Hello, and welcome to the nineteenth issue of Tales from Snippettsville, Short Stories From A Small Town. A bonus this time, five stories instead of four.



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 19

The Open Window by Lancelot Knight
A little closer (a Randy and Cheri episode) by Champagne1982
Swan's Next Step by Alex de Kok
The Parachutist by Lancelot Knight
Tiny Movement (a Randy and Cheri episode) by Champagne1982



Illustrations
Banner, (c)Quasimodem, 2003
Header Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004

Now read on...


* * * * *

The Open Window by Lancelot Knight

Although the dark was descending, Jenny did not turn on the light. Instead, she sat by the open window, her hands folded primly in her lap. A warm breeze gently caressed her body.

In the house beside Jenny’s a light went on, mellow, soft. As if it were a picture, a room was framed: a bedroom.

Into the bedroom came Jim. After stretching, he removed his shirt, tossed it into the hamper, sat on the bed and slipped out of his blue jeans and shorts. Stretching again, the muscles across his shoulders rippled.

Jenny’s hand crept down to the hem of her short summer dress. Gradually, she pushed it up until her thighs were bare.

Jim lay back on his bed. He was watching something on his television, but what Jenny couldn’t see. Not that she cared. She was more interested in what Jim was doing than what he was watching.

While Jim watched the TV he slowly began to coax his cock to an erection, stroking it sensually. It gleamed almost wetly.

Jenny’s hand crept between her thighs as her legs drifted open. She pushed her dress up until it was about her hips. Jenny had no panties on.

Jim wasn’t huge perhaps, but his cock was, Jenny decided, more than ample as she watched his shaft grow in his hand, becoming bright red and incredibly hard.

Unconsciously, Jenny ran her tongue over her dry lips as she stared at the swollen member. Lightly, lightly her fingertips drifted over her mound. Every now and then, with her other hand, she massaged her breast.

As Jim’s eyes fastened on the television screen, he squeezed his cock. Every so often he would reach down with his other hand and lightly tickle his ball sack. Whenever he did, his erection twitched with pleasure.

As his hand began to pick up the pace, his cock jerked. At the tip a clear bead appeared. Jim used the lubrication to make his cock slippery. A small smile drifted across his lips as he savored the feel of his hand.

Jenny was spellbound. She dragged her middle finger up her slit in slow, sensual strokes. Time after time, her finger drifted higher and higher, nearer and nearer the nub of her clit. Finally, she grazed the sensitive pink pearl, and shuddered in voluptuous delight. Jenny sucked in her full lower lip to keep from crying out.

Jim’s hand was a blur now. His powerful chest heaved for breath as he stroked his cock.

Jenny stroked her clit with short flicks, feeling her heart pounding under her aching breast. She rubbed and massaged the sensitive bud and felt her climax churning and rising.

Jim lifted his muscular ass off the bed. A thick spray of sperm erupted from the tip of his cock and landed on his thigh. Slumping, gasping, he continued to milk his cock until he drained all of the milky fluid.

Jenny’s climax sent electric sparks throughout her body. She writhed by the open window, panting in the quiet night air, squeezing her thighs together, her painted toes pointed.

After a time, having regained his strength, Jim reached over to the nightstand beside the bed. Taking a tissue, he wiped the cum from his thigh and limp cock. He glanced just once towards the open window, and maybe he smiled and, just maybe, he made a small kiss in Jenny’s direction.

And maybe Jenny kissed him back, though it would have been difficult to tell in the dark.

Even in towns as small as Snippetsville there is room for all kinds of love.

* * * * *

A Little Closer (a Randy and Cheri episode) by Champagne1982

I stood in the doorway, feeling the humidity of the bathroom behind me as I tried to remember to breathe. Cheri sat smiling at me, her brush midway along a shining curl of her copper-colored hair. She pulled the bristles free and pushed the brush and bag off the side of the bed stretching, catlike, on the edge of the mattress.

"Randy?" Her voice had that rich timbre that always took me by surprise when she spoke, "Do you want me?" She was still in her jeans and sweatshirt, looking so sweet and tempting. I sat on the foot of the bed, acutely aware of my near nudity and how much I wanted her as bare as I was. Cheri moved closer, up against my back, placing her hands on my shoulders, stroking my neck. She whispered in my ear, those full, rosy lips barely brushing against me, "I love you, Randy McRae."I turned to her, twisting my body around, directing her tumble, back, onto the middle of the duvet.


She fell, her hair spreading in a red-gold halo around her head and smiled up at me. "Jesus, Cheri, I need you!" I let my groin press against her hip, showing her just how much I did. Her sighs and quiet murmurs, as we kissed, were turning me on so fast, I could hardly speak. I knelt beside her, my erection tenting my boxers. I'd been wanting this woman for months now, ever since I'd stolen that first kiss in her parents' basement. She was so delicious! She held her hands out to me and I grasped her wrists, pulling her up into my embrace and sat back on my haunches. I took her mouth with a kiss that shook me to the core.

With her arms wrapped around my neck, I let go and slid my hands down over the rounded curves of her ass, gripping the cheeks as I massaged them. My touch swept up along her sides, pushing her heavy sweatshirt over her breasts. Cheri pulled her mouth from mine and moved her arms over her head, inviting me to take her top completely off. Her denim clad thighs were on either side of my waist and her ass was wiggling against my cock. I could barely think as I grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and got rid of it somehow.

She was so warm against me, skin to skin for the very first time. Cheri's breasts spilled over my palms as I squeezed them. Her nipples were a glorious, bubble-gum pink that matched her mouth, I couldn't help but wonder if her pussy lips were going to be a similar shade, too. Somehow, I was stretched out on the bed beside her and my kisses had replaced my hands on her chest. Her skin was sweet on my tongue, tasting of her, a mix of honey and musk. She squealed when my teeth caught a hard, little nib, holding it secure while my tongue flicked across it.

I nursed on her nipples, suckling them as I sealed my lips on one then the other. Her response to tit play was incredible. I imagined how, with more experience and time, Cheri might be able to cum from nipple stimulation alone. The thought was unbearably sexy and I reacted almost violently. Voraciously, I drew as much of her breast as I could into my mouth. We both groaned, our desire continuing to build. My cock strained against my boxers as I felt the thrill of knowing where this was going to lead.

* * * * *

Swan’s Next Step by Alex de Kok

The morning mist was still low over the lake when I crawled out of the tent and stretched. Beth followed me out and put her arm around my waist, resting her head against me. I bent to kiss her, taking the opportunity to caress her breast, the nipple stiff in the cool of the morning. She giggled.

“What?” I said.

“I can feel you running out of me.” She squeezed me. “I’m not surprised, having your wicked way five times with this poor virgin.”

I laughed. “Virgin to raving sex maniac overnight.”

Beth pouted. “I blame you, for making love so well.”

“And I blame you, for inspiring such passion in me.”

“Well, that’s okay.”

We stood in silence for a while, then Beth disengaged herself and began to gather breakfast things together.

“What do you want to do today while I’m recovering from your assault?” I asked her, moving to help her get the stove going.

“Alan, I’ve been thinking.”

“Sweetheart, I know you can, so I guess I have to ask, what?”

“Umbra Island?”

“Yes?”

“The nudist camp?”

“Yes?”

“Do they allow visitors?”

“I have absolutely no idea, sweetheart, but there’s one way to find out.”

“Go and ask?”

“Precisely. D’you want to?”

“I’d like to know what it’s like. It’s been great here, naked with you, making love, but we’ll always wonder if someone is going to find our little hideaway. Amongst other naked people, I think I could be even more relaxed.”

“We’d still need privacy for the love part. I’m not planning to share you.”

Beth giggled again. “I wasn’t planning on sharing you, either.”

It was about ten when we left our secret little bay after I’d hidden our valuables. It took us about an hour to reach Umbra Island. We knew, from Beth’s exploration, that there was a dock at the Western end of the island and that’s where we went. We tied up at the dock, and waited, for we knew we’d been seen. Sure enough, in a couple of minutes a woman came along the dock towards us, lithe, barefoot all the way up.

“Can I help you?” she asked. Apart from the fact that she wasn’t wearing a stitch, she was just an ordinary woman, obviously comfortable in her nudity. About forty, I guessed.

I took Beth’s hand. “We were wondering about the camp. We’d like to know more.”

“We’re happy to show you. We prefer it if you undress.”

Beth and I stripped off our t-shirts and shorts and dropped them into the canoe.

The woman chuckled. “You came prepared. That’s good.” She held out her hand. “I’m Elaine Larson. I’m duty member today.”

“I’m Alan Johansen and this is Beth Allan.”

“I thought I recognised you both. I’m Jenny’s mom.”

“Of course! Now I know where I’ve seen you before,” said Beth. “How is Jenny?”

“You can ask her yourself, she’s here with her dad and me.” Elaine gestured. “This way, please.”

I don’t know what I expected, but the Lady Iothane Institute Campgrounds were just like camp grounds anywhere, except that everyone was naked. A central building that was bar, restaurant and social centre, several toilet blocks for men and women, a few cabins, tennis courts, a putting green and little clearings scattered everywhere, each just big enough for three or four tents. Those nearest the facilities were full. Some, further away, empty.

“Alan, I like this place,” said Beth.

“I do, too, sweetheart.” I turned to Elaine Larson. “How much does it cost?”

Elaine Larson smiled. “Come over to the office and I’ll show you.”

* * * * *

* * * * *

The Parachutist by Lancelot Knight

Vince opened a bleary eye.

Places can have different languages, different customs, different foods, but garbage trucks sound the same the world over. Vince winced at the clanging of the truck that seemed just outside his door; he listened to its hydraulics as it pounded, pounded into his headache.

He rolled over and was not startled to see a slim young blonde beside him. She had a narrow chin, and in sleep her light hair trickled over the pillow like sunshine. The sheet was pulled up, but he caught a glimpse of a firm, apple-sized breast. At least he had good taste, drunk or not, he thought.

As if his gaze had been a caress, she blinked her eyes open.

Vince shifted himself onto his elbow. “Where are we?”

“In a motel,” she replied.

“No, I mean, in what country?”

“The United States.”

“Ahh.”

“Say, don’t you remember anything?”

“Not very much,” Vince admitted.

“Doesn’t that beat all? Here you parachute into the middle of Snippetsville-”

“Where?”

“Snippetsville.”

Vince nodded weakly. “It’s coming back now. 101st Airborne ten years ago. I had to prove I could still do it.” He paused, rubbing his whiskered face. “So I parachuted into Snippetsville. Did I cause a stir?”

“You bet! It was the first time it had ever happened. Mrs. Murphy thought you were an invading force from . . . from somewhere. She wanted you thrown in jail. Then they decided you were a conquering hero and carried you on their shoulders like you were Lindbergh or somebody, and it kind of turned into a parade down Main Street.”

Vince smiled. “Lindbergh, that’s good.”

“They carried you to the bar, where everyone in town, it seemed, had to buy you a drink. That’s where,” she blushed slightly, “that’s where we met.”

“I remember now,” Vince said. “Or at least I remember most of it. What did you say your name was?”

“Still is-Sandra.”

As they chatted, Sandra unselfconsciously got up from the bed. Naked, she padded over to the coffeemaker and brewed some coffee. Vince watched the flexing of her fine buttocks as she went about the work.

“I’m a waitress at the bar,” she said as if that explained everything.

As they sipped coffee, he told her about all the countries he had been to, all the sights and marvels he had seen.

“It sounds wonderful,” said Sandra, dreamily.

“It gets old after awhile,” he answered.

She told him of the small town life of Snippetsville, of the crickets in the summer and the sound of ice cracking in the winter, of the breezes and blizzards, of gossip and goodness.

“Sounds wonderful,” said Vince.

“It gets old after awhile.”

Setting aside his coffee cup, Vince stretched and rose from the bed. “I think you better get dressed and get going,” he said. “I have a friend who said he would drive out here to pick me up.”

“You told me,” Sandra said. “I got all my things together.” She nodded at a suitcase in the corner. “You said you would take me with you. Don’t you remember? See all the sights of the world.”

Vince scratched his head. “To be honest with you, I was thinking of staying here for awhile. Maybe permanently.”

For a long time there was a silence in the dingy motel room. Then Sandra said, “This friend of yours--do you think he would take me with him?”

Vince smiled softly. “Oh, I think so.”

Later, as Vince waved good-bye to them, he murmured, ruefully, “Who knows? Perhaps our paths will cross again someday.”

* * * * *

Tiny Movement (a Randy and Cheri episode) by Champagne1982

His lips hovered over hers and, for a brief instant, his mouth stayed poised above her, like a butterfly about to alight on the petals of her kiss. She whispered, "I love you," just as he landed. He swallowed her feeling and made it part of the moan that rose from his chest.

Randy's kiss was his testament his love. He pushed her lips open and sucked them inside his own. Cheri could feel his teeth bump against hers as he pressed her into the comforter. She tensed the muscles around her mouth and formed a soft pillow for him to settle on. As far as Cheri was concerned, this connection between them should never be broken. She savored the kiss and protested when Randy broke away and drew his mouth down her skin.

He moved over the roundness of her, tasting her and experiencing an excitement he'd never known before. Cheri was his and his alone. Noone had ever given her the pleasure that he hoped, fervently, to share. He was her first lover and felt the responsibility of the moment, realizing that her enjoyment today would color their sex lives for as long as they were blessed to be together.

Cheri wanted his kisses on her nipples. She arched her spine, lifting her breasts up, into Randy's palms. His big craftsman's hands grabbed her sweatshirt, even as he lifted her onto his lap. She raised her arms and ground her hips against his hard bulge. At last, with a toss of her head, she was bare, skin to skin with her man.

Randy's lips were so soft and warm. Slippery wetness surrounded the tip of her breast and Cheri gasped, feeling a welcome longing suffuse her limbs, robbing her of the strength to deny her lover anything. He moved his lips back and forth between her nipples and she heard his chuckles through a fog as each time she murmured for him not to stop.

Dextrously, Randy unfastened the buttons of Cheri's jeans. She helped him strip them off her hips and down her legs blushing as she heard, "Oh God! Beautiful, beautiful --" Randy pushed her knees apart and moved between her feet, lifting one foot to his cheek and then suckling her toe. Cheri giggled as his mouth tickled but then moaned as awareness of his tongue swirling around it brought a different longing inside her.

Cheri's skin was as golden as liquid honey. He marveled that she was virtually freckle free. Randy couldn't keep his lips away from her smooth complexion and he braced his body above her and brought his mouth down once more to cover her hot-pink one. He settled down between her legs with his bulge, hot and hard, suggestively trapped between them.

His hips moved in a slow grind, rubbing his cock against her panty clad pussy. He wanted to look at her again and rolled over beside her, sitting up and slowly stroking her inner thigh with his fingers. "Please." Cheri's desire was shapeless. She suspected she knew what would ease this need and decided to hasten their satisfaction. Her fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her tiny, bikini panties as she raised her hips off the bed.

Randy paused in caressing her tummy and stared as the silk moved away from her body. Her bush was a neat, little, upside down teardrop shaped flame. The red-gold of her pubis was brighter than the curls that framed her face. Randy heard a soft whine and realized that it had come from him.

* * * * *

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