Little Town Dreams Pt. 05

It is dark, and the new normal. There are wars, extreme weather, prices going up, rich people getting richer, politicians breaking promises, and the council being short of money. Covid is still around, but people are no longer wearing masks and the little town looks much as before. People are in their beds (or someone's bed) or on their computers.

Only the cats stalk the streets, in their soft sly way. A cloud uncovers the Moon to reveal a fox crossing the road, and in the churchyard an owl swoops on its tiny prey.

Inside the church there are groans of pleasure as a man pumps inside a woman leaning up against the altar. It is Mr Houseman, giving his all to Miss Palmer, the priest's housekeeper. Father Brown is away, but of course she has the keys, enabling atheist Mr Houseman to commit the sacrilege.

"Yes! Yes!" she cries, and he shoots hard and long.

"Christ, that was good!" he says, and they both laugh.

After the long enforced celibacy of Covid and a certain amount of desperation, he had decided to make a try for one of the few apparently available cunts, that of the new housekeeper of the new priest. It had involved weeks of churchgoing, donations on the plate, a couple of entirely fictional confessions and nods and smiles to her until he managed to speak to her at a coffee morning. A couple more weeks, and he was bold enough to ask if she had anyone special, and if not might she be willing to go out with him. She replied it might be possible.

"What would you like to do?" he asked.

"Well, I could really use a shag," she said, and smiled.

"Unless you think we should wait till marriage, in which case fuck off."

Like Mr Houseman, she had been raised in a strongly Catholic environment and had gone along with it but only out of habit and for the people around her. She was a housekeeper because she needed a job, that's all, and it was a fairly comfortable one. She'd had boyfriends on the quiet, but in a new parish he was the first to ask.

It turned out she was a bit of a goer, anxious to make up for lost time and willing to try anything. She sucked him off. She took anal sometimes. She was amused to put things up his bum. But mainly she wanted as much solid shagging as he could manage, and he was glad to oblige.

They got married in a registry office, but didn't tell anyone. It was better creeping around for secret sex in unusual places.

Councillor Griffiths had his dream come true. No longer a councillor (his wife now fills that role well) he is a she, having been relieved of masculine appendages and hormones, and instead supplied with feminine facilities, now being put to good use by the energetic Police Sergeant Smith. Her precious new vagina is being delightfully distended by a dark dong of impressive dimensions, having a proper pounding before the gift of Ghanaian lovejuice. She doesn't move as he withdraws and gets dressed to go on duty, she just lies there, gaping and feeling the trickle, fully fucked and feminine. Janice the housewife with the black lover!

She is far from the only one. Having made one mistake, Sergeant Smith now confines community outreach to women who for one reason or another cannot conceive. A baby, that is. Most cannot conceive their luck.

Councillor Mrs Griffiths pays Sergeant Smith fifty pounds a week for two visits to Janice (a rare privilege, since he has many demands on his time and todger). She does not want to view the spectacle. She used to peg her husband but has no desire to use the strapon dildo on Janice. She gets enough sex from strategic couplings which mean she will be the party candidate in the next general election.

Mr and Mrs Jones took their holidays separately. One looked after the children at the seaside, while the other took a week away abroad for sun and sex. Now they are together, and realise they missed each other and the children more than they could bear. They would make passionate love, were it not for the upset child between them. They really are the perfect couple after all, and want no other.

Mr Thomas revels in the role of cuckold. He is a doting father and is glad to take his pretty brown daughter out while Mummy is enjoying the attentions of other men. He is especially excited about two Chinese students he met outside the city university. They readily agreed to fuck his wife without protection so that he can get another child distinctively different from himself. His wife was pleased to note that their cocks were of good size, and not, as she feared, tiny. They tell her that is the Japanese. At least once a week she is left dripping with Oriental love-juice.

Tonight, while her husband and children are with her mother-in-law, Mrs Thomas is groaning with pleasure as two cocks work her front and back orifices. She was interested to try anal sex - a little painful at first, but surprisingly pleasant once she persisted. (The backdoor-man always has a condom.) The Chinese students are very polite and cooperative. As they are young, she knows there will be a second session later, probably two in a row this time.

After six months she is not pregnant, but happy to continue furthering Anglo-Chinese relations. Mr Thomas has at last worked out that they are not the same two Chinese each time.

There will be no little Chinese babies. Having tried childbirth once, she has taken steps to see that it never happens again. Her husband is unaware that she is also getting served by Sergeants Smith and Dixon. It is a joy to be properly unfaithful again. Any sex is good, but it loses the thrill if your husband knows and approves.

Councillor Fox put his lust ahead of his principles and joined the Green party in hopes to resume congress with Ms Hunter. This was successful, though he had to eat many more vegan meals again, and suffer some deadly boring meetings with her committee. The more fired up she gets politically the more lustful she becomes. Fortunately he's not patriarchal and is happy to lie back and let her do all the work, riding him to her satisfaction, and sucking to work him up for a second (or more) go later. The government has just announced licences for drilling for oil and gas so it could be an exhausting night. (She may well have to turn to her trusty dildo - traditionally handmade in sustainable hardwood by indigenous craftsmen, who have done this ever since a marketing executive thought of it.)

In the morning he will restore this strength by sneaking into Ma Saunders for a full English breakfast with all the forbidden ingredients: bacon, eggs, sausages, and the ultimate sin - white bread fried in bacon fat! (And a pint of proper tea, with real milk.)

Ma Saunders is so happy. Len, her husband's lorry driver lover, has got a new job at the local depot and has moved in with them. It is mainly local work so he can join Mr Saunders in bed most nights. It is simple male love. They are both attracted to the male rather than the female body and enjoy equally fucking and being fucked. As Len is younger he does more fucking. There is a love beyond that, between Ma and Mr Saunders. They don't have sex, but they still have each other in a very special way. She is glad to know of the passion in his bedroom, and he is pleased for the two or three men who visit her each evening. Len is a little like a son for her. The one who died so soon, and then she wasn't able to have any more. Len is such a nice boy, and she's glad they found each other.

Police Chief Superintendent Harris was badly affected by Covid, and had to retire, so lost her dream of being Chief Constable. But she still has hopes for her protégée, Police Inspector Trubshaw. She has suggested that certain wives of influential men might be of interest to a lesbian officer, though Trubshaw is presently determined to stay faithful to her wife, Sergeant Khan. Khan, in turn, has promised that her activities with other officers are limited to handjobs, though she is rather tempted by Sergeant Smith.

Mr Brown is in bed with two women, his wife and his mistress, Miss Higgins the librarian. To lure him back, he has been offered the full erotic availability of both, with no holds (or holes) barred. He wonders how much the king-size bed cost and decides that he and his mother should really have a new double bed. Her bedroom, landing and stair carpets are rather worn as well. Mum never asks for anything, but is always pleased if he offers to do a bit of decorating. The new wallpaper looks good in the living room, and she's happy with her new cooker.

For just over two weeks he has cunt and tits thrown at him from all directions, with one woman urging him on with the other. They even kissed and stroked each other, but it didn't do anything for him, and seemed a bit desperate. Anyway, they're not as nice as the women in his magazines.

Once again they are demanding too much of him, even by concentrating on his pleasure. Tomorrow when they are both at work a van will come and take the only possessions he cares about off to his Mum's home. When the two women come in the evening, they will get drunk and pass out together in the king-size bed. Nothing will happen but within a week they will start to do what they were pretending, and enjoy malarky with each other. Within a year Miss Higgins will move in, and they will have the best sex and companionship they could ever imagine.

Meanwhile Mr Brown's mother is looking at a calendar which advertises a long-defunct motor parts supplier. A smiling young woman with large firm breasts smiles out of the page - Miss April. Mrs Brown smiles back. She was certainly a looker in those days. How much she and the other girls were thrilled by the idea of thousands of men masturbating to their pictures! Her dream had been to be in Playboy, lying across the page with a staple in her tummy and her snatch on open display! The other girls admired her snatch - a neat bush: hairy, but not too much, just right. British girlie calendars and magazines did not yet show female fur. Just imagine millions of men gazing lustfully at it!

But she had got pregnant, and married the young mechanic who caused it, so that was that. Still, he had been a wonderful husband, and she still had her lovely boy. She had never approved of the stuck-up cow he married, and is a little worried that he is visiting her again. No, he is sure to come back to his old Mum. Should she show him the calendar and the seven magazines in which she displayed her charms? Perhaps not the calendar, with the oily finger marks and a stain in the corner.

When Mr Harris, the Head Teacher, was a child at the school there had been some bright new classrooms. Now the pupils are back from Covid, and it turns out the concrete used was especially light and cheap but not especially durable, so they have all been condemned and closed (just before the start of term.) It is a new headache, but his sister (the former Chief Superintendent) and his wife take it in turns to give him a good pegging to relieve the strain of the day, before seeking their own satisfaction together.

The council doesn't have the money to replace the classrooms, but a survey shows the part of the school built a hundred years ago is still solid.

To show the variety of human behaviour, Constable Atkins is fucking his very own wife. He's not as good as her previous husband, but he's here instead of in prison. Constable Atkins dreams of the supple loveliness of Sergeant Khan, who will not even give him a handjob now he's married, such is the police code of not messing with a mate's marriage. Mrs Atkins (the former Mrs Sykes) dreams of Sergeant Smith's reported size and ready availability, but will not get it for the same reason.

Mr Sykes is now getting free board and lodging at His Majesty's pleasure, for a considerable number of years, but things are not too bad. As an old lag he has been placed in a cell with a first-timer by the wise governor, to help and protect the young man, who prefers to be called Doris.

It is later, the small hours. Sergeants Khan and Smith are sitting bored in their patrol car. They have both reached the second and probably final stage of their police careers. (There are no corporals in the UK police - they go straight from constable to sergeant.) Neither of them has leadership potential and both are a disappointment to their mothers. Khan should have been at least a pharmaceutical assistant, and properly married - a man of any colour would have done. Smith's mother grudgingly accepted his profession as the nearest thing to a lawyer, but anticipated quicker progress and a white wedding.

Sergeant Smith thinks (with some justification) that he has a great gift, and it is too good not to share with more than one member of womankind. The womankind he shares it with seems to agree.

Khan is happy to be married to a woman rather than a man, and Melanie Trubshaw (known as Mel) is enough of a husband to her, generally being in charge, having career ambitions, but satisfying her sexually as no man ever managed.

But just the same, she rather likes cock. She can't help the fact that she is naturally attractive to men (and not a few women). Cocks have a tendency to rise up around her, and she has always found them amusing and amazing how they do this and then shoot their little loads when she massages them. Mel tolerates a little of this, providing it does not become a relationship. Both get some satisfaction from the strapon dildo vigorously applied by the virtual man of the house, but true pleasure comes from woman to woman loving. They both keep away from the beguiling Mrs Harris.

Sergeant Smith pats his swollen groin and says "What about it, Sergeant Khan?"

"For fuck's sake!" she responds.

"You've only just been with Janice, and I bet she wasn't the first today!"

"That was hours ago," he protests.

"It's another day. Give a guy a hand, can't you?"

He thinks, but wisely does not say 'you know you want to'.

Just this once, she thinks. To see what the fuss is all about. It's probably too big. No I won't.

"For fuck's sake! We've got three hours to go, so let's get it over with!"

Grudgingly, making it clear she doesn't want to, she undoes her seatbelt and turns to him.

He does likewise, undoing his trouser belt and then his zip, lifting to pull his pants down.

"Control to Zed Victor Two" comes over the radio.

"Report of suspicious noises, back of Reynards Avenue. Householder at number 23. Elderly woman very concerned."

Smith pulls himself together, they drive off, knowing full well what it will be.

"Fucking foxes!" they say together.