Tales from Snippettsville Issue 20bySnippettsville Group©
Hello, and welcome to the twentieth, and final, issue of Tales from Snippettsville, Short Stories From A Small Town.
If you want to know what it's all been about, go to Snippettsville Group
If you have any feedback on the stories, 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 20
The Outbreak Of The Great Snippettsville War Of The Sexes by Jon Hayworth
Tripping Triumph by wildsweetone
The Ecumenical Hoodwink by Quasimodem
A Matter Of Business by Champagne1982
Banner, (c)Quasimodem, 2003
Header Picture, (c)Couture, 2003
Lake picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004
Door picture, (c)Perdita, 2003
Lake picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2003
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004
Now read on...
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The Outbreak Of The Great Snippettsville War Of The Sexes by jon.hayworth
I had spent a quiet Christmas up in my cabin, not wanting to join in the communal festivities of an event I did not believe in, I had given folks the impression I had gone home for a few weeks. Secretly I had been doing some serious writing without the distraction of Snippetsville matrons.
It was the first week in January when I rode the BMW into town, riding through deep snow was certainly an experience for me. The bike was fine, all the R&D on the Russian Front in WW2 had paid off.
I sensed the tension in the air the moment I entered the store. Seeing Jack's hang-dog demeanour I thought he had failed to perform his matrimonial duties over the Christmas period, Ethel could be very demanding sexually - one reason why I had avoided anyone.
Although Ethel smiled, I could sense there was something else on her mind. A few moments later when she brandished the clipboard in my face I knew what it was. “Will you sign our petition to keep our community pure.”
How I stopped myself from laughing I do not know. Keep the town PURE - first there had been Hannah, then Ethel knocking on my door and since then - well I will tell you about them some other time.
I looked at the petition, before I read the text I noted most of the signatories were women, Father Morrison and Mr Niles the minister were the only males who had signed. I always read the text before I sign a petition, ‘We the citizens of Snippetsville object to the idea of a Massage Parlour being located in Snippetsville.’ I shook my head and handed back the clipboard, “sorry Ethel I can't sign.”
“I live at Green Lake; it’s not really Snippetsville.”
“You mean you’re like him,” she jerked her head in Jack’s direction. “Everytime he sees her his tongue is hanging out - I only wish he could show the same enthusiasm for his wife.”
“Now Ethel ...”
“Don’t you go now Ethelling me ... now look what you gone made me do! I told you Jack Carr I ain’t speaking to you.” ‘See you tonight,’ she mouthed. I nodded my head.
In post-coital bliss, while Ethel toyed with my sated, limp cock. I reciprocated by tweaking her nipple while marvelling on the pioneering spirit of American women, who will drive along snow covered tracks for a few hours of illicit sex - women I knew in England wouldn’t drive to the supermarket when snow had fallen.
We both heard the motor and the tires scrunching on the snow. My first thought was Jack had at last worked out where his wife was. I guess Ethel shared that idea, she dove under the bedclothes.
Going to the door, I wondered if Jack had a gun.
A wave of relief swept over me when I saw Hannah. “Hi,” she said, “I saw you were back and thought I’d be neighbourly. I see you gotten company.” I must have looked startled, because she said, “I saw Jack’s truck outside.”
She saw the empty room, then she clicked. “Well I’ll be damned,” she said striding to the bedroom door. “Ethel! Ethel Carr how dare you, he is mine.”
“Hey I’m not a lump of meat!”
“Shut up!” the viragos chorused.
“I can share if you can share,” Ethel offered.
“Has he got the stamina for the two of us?” was Hannah’s answer.
One guy, two women - every man’s dream but it is hell in reality, and I still haven’t signed the petition.
* * * * *
Tripping Triumph by wildsweetone
“Helloooooooo!” Liz shouted along the empty road.
Not a soul answered, which felt odd considering it was midday and she strolled along Snippettsville’s Main Street.
No answer. Not a bird stirred. Utter silence.
“Well,” Liz shrugged red woollen covered shoulders at nothing in particular. “Be that way. See if I care,” trudging along the snow dusted street. “This town sure could do with a little Life. It’s like a morgue.”
Walking past 10 Main Street, something bright purple caught Liz’s eye. Turning, she realised a notice was stuck in the doorway of the empty building.
“Well, holy far out. A Massage Parlor in Snip eh. That’ll cause chaos for the cronies,” she chuckled, pushed the door open then walked inside the building.
Dust and cobwebs assailed her, along with “Hey what are you doing in here, it’s not safe, get out!”
Startled, Liz squinted through the darkened room spotting a vague shape on the other side of the building. Walking towards it, she tripped on a piece of four by two laying on the concrete.
“Now, now, mind your language young lady. I’m a godfearing man and don’t need to hear bad words coming from a beautiful woman’s mouth.”
Luckily Liz was still unable to make out the man’s expression, or she might have seen the twinkle in his eye as he admonished her. Luckily for him that is. She was in no mood to pussyfoot around today.
“What are you doing in here? Obviously it’s not safe for either of us to be here,” Liz’s arm waved about the building.
“I’m a builder, contracted to get this place up to scratch for the opening day.”
“When exactly is the opening day? I can’t believe a hick town like Snip is going to allow a Massage Parlor in its midst,” she snorted.
“Oh, it’ll not be for some time yet,” he said, “there’s lots to decide and lots to do in here before it happens.”
“Yes I can see that.” Her eyes having become accustomed to the dimness within the building, now saw the mess that surrounded her. “It looks like the Parlor won’t be opening for another year at least.”
Moving about the building, Liz tripped again, only this time, she sprawled right out across the floor. The contractor rushed to her side checking that she was all right. Liz grinned, “It’s okay love, I’ve twisted my ankle is all. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Give us a hand up.”
He helped her up, then grabbed a solid wooden box and seated her on it.
“Well now, this is a fine state of affairs,” he took off his cap, scratching his head.
“No matter. Like I said, I’m fine. It’s just twisted.”
Liz reached out, grabbing his overalls, hoping she could lift herself up. Instead, she found the overalls peeling from his body. She ran her long fingernails down the front of his exposed chest stopping only as her hand became caught up just below his belly button.
“Oh goodness dear. Please stop that. I don’t even know you.” The man flustered.
“It’s okay, I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this before,” Liz winked and grinned, then showed him exactly what she knew how to do best.
“Now,” she spoke as he breathed deeply, “do you think I’d be any good as a massage assistant?”
“Any good? Hell, I’ll book you now as your first customer! Don’t tell the wife though, she’s in a meeting at the Town Hall now. Maggie’s on the Massage Parlor Petition Committee.
* * * * *
The Ecumenical Hoodwink by Quasimodem
“Matthew Prentiss plans to hold a crusade in Snippettsville,” Father Pete exclaimed to Reverend Niles. “He’s coming this weekend to meet with patrons in our community.”
“Why? There’s no need.”
“Prentiss always picks small-towns,” Father Pete explained. “That way there’s no competition for press coverage.”
“But, why Snippettsville?”
“Somebody wrote Prentiss about the massage parlour.”
“Most cities have them,” Reverend Niles objected. “Even towns our size.”
“True, but these people use ‘massage parlour’ as a code word for prostitution.”
“Prostitution!” Reverend Niles exclaimed. “They haven’t even opened yet.”
“Which exactly suits Prentiss,” Father Pete explained. “He can make any claim he fancies, with no fear of contradiction. Meanwhile, his broadcasts attract contributors, and Snippettsville receives an unwarranted black eye.”
“We must report this to Chief Holt,” the Reverend Niles declared.
“Chief Holt is an admirable public official, but his hands are tied by legalities,” the priest countered. “Our best hope lies with a person from your congregation, provided we give him a free hand.”
The middle-aged Presbyterian pastor shook hands with the young Catholic assistant priest.
“So, you’re leaving town?” the john inquired.
“Too much competition,” Koadi admitted. “I could freelance in a hick town like this, but with the massage parlour, I must work for some madam. I’d rather move along.”
“The massage parlour will never open.”
“Men make promises,” Koadi advised, “that I’ve learned are better off ignored.”
“This will be our only time, then?”
“Afraid so,” Koadi agreed.
“Well, what do you offer?”
“Straight, half-and-half, head, or a hand job.”
“I’m just a country boy.”
“Right! Vanilla sex,” Koadi offered, “one-fifty.”
“I dislike using condoms.”
“Get used to it.”
“You’ll put it on me?”
“Right here in my room. I’m paid up till tomorrow.”
Once stripped and neatly fitted, the john was not gentle. He shoved the girl back onto the bed, leaping upon her.
“No! Wait! I’m not ready!” Koadi cried.
“Well, get ready, bitch!” the john snarled.
Yanking the girl’s thighs apart by her knees, the john positioned himself for entry.
“They said you were a preacher,” Koadi wailed. “I thought you’d be gentle.”
The john’s open hand struck Koadi’s cheek.
“Learn not to speak about your betters, cunt! I’ll fuck you however I want. If you’re good, I may let you leave town. If not, I’ll introduce you to somebody who’ll teach you better technique.”
A surprised cry filled the room, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.
Archie McDougall’s size twelve rested across the john’s throat.
“Beat it kid,” he advised Koadi.
“He owes me one-seventy-five,” she objected, holding her reddened cheek.
“You didn’t deliver,” Archie snapped, “beat it.”
Koadi left, muttering dire imprecations.
“Now that we’re alone, Reverend Prentiss, I have some advice. If you ever fuck with another small town, try keeping your dick in your pants.”
“Let go, you cheap hood.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Archie advised. “Hey, Biff, get the video tape.”
Unrecognizable in a misshapen wool cap, leather jacket, and black denim levis, Father Pete entered the Showboat Hotel room. He withdrew the video cameras from their hiding place, and carried them away.
“You best forget Snippettsville, Rev. You even think about it, and your next job will be as a porn star. Those videos will be posted all over the internet.
“And don’t try bribing me or the hooker,” a private smile twisted Archie’s stern lips, “Biff runs this show. Burning sky pilots like you is an old hobby of his people.
“You best clam up and beat it.”
Archie took his foot from the crusader's neck, and strode from the room.
* * * * *
A Matter of Business by Champagne1982
She was worth selling his vote for. He'd promised her that he was all for her massage parlor business. Maybe he'd give her a cash bonus. Reaching down Larry tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled upwards. "Lick my cock, honey. I want you to make it all wet so I can slide into that sweet little cunt nice and easy." The hooker looked at him with a little trepidation.
He smiled at her. Most women would never guess he was carrying around the package he had. Larry recalled the look on some of his more handsome friends' faces when he'd walk into a party with a beautiful woman who couldn't keep her hands off him. Knowing how to use what the Good Lord gave him was the chief reason, he reflected. Amused, he couldn't help but think that being a millionaire and a local councilman, didn't serve a fella too far wrong either.
But now, that sexy tongue was circling around his hard shaft and all thought left him. Larry knew he'd have to make her ready. Even though she was a professional woman, his was a cock that took some prep for. "Come up here, baby. Let me kiss those pretty nipples." She crawled up and straddled him, dangling her breasts just over his lips.
Larry squeezed the round globes of her tits and his fingers sank into their softness, he gasped with delight of his discovery that these were natural beauties. He pulled first one nipple into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue, then the other, treating it to the same pleasure. Keeping his lips around the woman's nipple he heaved up and pushed her over onto her back.
Those tits were shining with saliva by the time he tipped his face up to watch her expression. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open, lips slightly pursed to make an 'o'. Larry slipped his palm down her flat tummy twisting his wrist so that his fingertips would encounter the kinky spring of her pubes first. He pressed on, down around the soft curve that led him to her clit. He moved over to her side and leaned in close.
Her legs splayed wide as he dipped his finger between the folds of her double set of lips. Her slit was amazingly moist when he pressed into her opening. Slow fingering was heating this sweet piece up and Larry couldn't wait to fuck her. He circled her clit for a few moments, whispering encouragement to her.
"That's it sweety, cum for me. You like cock don't ya, baby? You gonna fuck ole Larry's cock and cum all over him?" He moved his heavy frame between her slender thighs. Her hips surged upwards as she arched, gasping, she shook through her orgasm. Larry moved his very wet fingers to his cock and slipped it between her labia.
He thrust at her feeling the wet velvet of her cunt wrap around him. Her pussy welcomed and pulled his length inside. He sank up to the hilt, amazed, he stayed steeped in her for a long moment. At last he moved, fucking her with purpose. She lifted up to him, answering his need. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and heavy sighs and groans, filled the room. Larry felt his groin tighten and his cum spurted into her. He fell back, stunned that he'd forgotten protection, but he'd never been fully inside a woman like that before. The councilman was glad she'd chosen Snippettsville for her business venture.
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Feedback and comments are welcomed; nay, treasured. Votes are nice, too.
A note from Wildsweetone and Alex De Kok:
This is the last Issue by the Snippettsville Group. This project has been exciting and challenging and we would like to take this opportunity to thank all our readers and writers. We’ve managed to bring you 103 stories over the course of the year. It’s been fun. Please feel free to continue to support these writers by checking out their other work via their profile page.
We hope you have enjoyed spending time in Snippettsville and hope you return to these stories from time to time. After all, just because we stop writing about Snippettsville does not mean the characters don't continue on with their lives...