tagChain StoriesTales from Snippettsville Issue 17

Tales from Snippettsville Issue 17

bySnippettsville Group©

Hello, and welcome to the seventeenth 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 17

The Question About Umbrellas by Quasimodem
Rhonda At The Roadhouse by Alex de Kok
The Titless Wonder by Boxlicker101
Umbra's Lady by Wildsweetone

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

Now read on...

* * * * *

The Question About Umbrellas by Quasimodem

Something wasn't kosher at Dusty's Video.

Dusty's had only one hundred video tapes. The store's doors were locked more often than most submarines. It was easier to qualify for the Olympics than for one of Dusty's memberships. And, finally, Dusty's Video charged twice the rental fee its competitors did.

Still, it had never caught the attention of Archie McDougall until Jennifer Tillies asked him the question.

"Why does Dusty's Video have two copies of 'The Umbrellas of Cherbourg'?"

"You rent at Dusty's?" Archie responded.

"No, I was buying milk in the convenience store, when I saw Gray Chilters leave with that movie tucked under his arm. When I glanced in Dusty's window, there was another copy on the counter."

"Is that one I missed?"

"It's from the sixties," Jennifer answered, "and I doubt whether either you or Grayson Chilters would consider it worth watching. Not one single car chase."

"Okay, Jenny," Archie replied. "I'll check it out."


"Will their love endure the long separation?" Archie read from the plot outline on the Internet Movie Database, then continued. "All the dialogue is sung. . . ."

Archie shot to his feet and exited the police station. Jennifer was correct. Something was rotten at Dusty's Video.

Responding to Archie's request, Jennifer searched back issues of the Snippettsville weekly newspaper where Dusty's advertisements listed contest winners.

"Someone wins twenty-five free rental coupons each week," Jennifer reported. "Here's the list of the last three months' winners."

Archie snorted, "I've been keeping watch. That list names every one of Dusty's recent customers. No wait! Everyone except Gray Chilters."

"That's strange! It was Chilters I saw renting 'The Umbrellas of Cherbourg.'"


"Chief Holt, I object to this unwarranted persecution!" Grayson Chilters IV complained.

"Prosecution," Tom corrected, "I'm bringing charges, Grayson.

"Do you have the tape, Jennifer?"

Jennifer slipped a tape out of its container and pushed it into the VCR, then pressed fast forward. A moment later, she stopped the tape, to play it at normal speed. Loud buzzing could be heard from the speaker.

"At this point," Jennifer explained, "we would have to transfer the actual tape in the plastic shell to a half-inch computer tape backup cartridge. Here's another tape which Constable McDougall confiscated earlier this week."

Jennifer switched on the back-up tape. All watched as the computer scrolled through lines of machine language on the monitor.

"Does that look familiar?" Jennifer asked the rumpled individual overlooked by everyone previously.

"That's the design for our next video game, 'Mad Gunnar.' How did you get it?" he demanded, in evident agitation.

"Ever wondered how Chilters Data could beat you to the market with so many new products?"

"Yes! I certainly did! Even had a security firm do background checks on our people, but they couldn't find anything," the rumpled man admitted. "We decided it was a case of simultaneous development."

"You have a mole," Archie declared, "a programmer named Lembeck, who makes weekly reports to Chilters."

"Their only link is through Dusty's Video. Both rent this same video tape alternately. They don't even frequent Dusty's store on the same day," Archie concluded. "No wonder your security people couldn't put them together."

"So what?" Grayson Chilters IV sneered. "This is nothing!"

"The laws on intellectual property rights have changed rather dramatically," Tom Holt interjected.

"Try and prove it," Chilters scoffed.

"Dusty's operated for nearly three years," Tom observed. "Which means your father probably was involved in the business initially. From what I gather, he's becoming rather anxious to change accommodations.

"Jennifer," Chief Holt instructed, "book an appointment for me with Grayson Chilters III at the Rufe Dobson Medium Security Prison."

* * * * *

Rhonda At The Roadhouse by Alex de Kok

He looked across again. It was definitely Mrs Jackson - Rhonda - from next door. Divorced, kids off at summer camp, and looking red hot in her short summer dress. She looked uncomfortable, too, because the trucker had obviously had too much to drink and was pawing at her. Jerry turned to his friends who were playing pool.

"I have to go and see if she's okay."

Tom Forrest looked over at the booth. "That trucker looks like he could get mean."

"I'll take the chance," Jerry said with a grimace. He turned and went across to the booth. Rhonda Jackson saw him coming and gave him a warm smile.

"Hi, Jerry. Have you come to give me that lift? Is it that time already?"

Jerry took his cue. "Sorry I'm late, Rhonda. Couldn't get the car started at first."

"You can't leave, we just got started," the trucker said, angry now that he could see what he thought was a choice piece of ass moving out of his life.

"And now we're finished," Rhonda said, her tone like ice. "I'm ready, Jerry, let's go." She pushed at the trucker, who tried to stop her. "Get your hands off me," she yelled, startling the trucker into letting go. She quickly slid out of the booth and took Jerry's arm. "Get me out of here," she hissed. Obediently, Jerry headed for the door.

Outside, Rhonda took a deep breath. "Thanks, Jerry. I owe you."

"That's okay, I thought you looked a little uncomfortable."

Rhonda grimaced. "I was. I didn't realise that jackass could get so drunk so quick. Have you got a car, Jerry?"

He shook his head. "I came with Tom and Joey."

"Will they miss you?"

"I doubt it."

She reached into her purse and took out her car keys. "Drive me home?"


In the car, as he started the motor, Rhonda put her hand on his arm. "Sorry if I spoiled your evening."

"It's okay. I don't even know why I agreed to come. The Roadhouse isn't my favourite place."

Rhonda gave a brief, amused snort. "Mine either."

"Why'd you go then?" said Jerry.

"To meet my so-called friend, Cindy, who never turned up." Rhonda heaved a deep breath. "Please don't get me wrong, Jerry. It's been a long time since I had sex and I'm a woman who has needs. I think I just hoped I could get laid by somebody nice, but there was nobody there who fits the description." There was a pause. "Except you," she said in a completely different tone.

Jerry glanced across at her. She was looking at him with an expression he couldn't fathom, hesitant, yet expectant. Excitement took him. Whoa boy! "I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "Did you just invite me to make love to you?"

"Not exactly," said Rhonda, "I think I just asked you to fuck me, but if you want to make love, I won't argue."

Jerry put the car into gear and eased out of the Roadhouse parking lot. "You know something?" he said.


"I'm nineteen tomorrow. You've lived next door for four years now and I think I've been a little bit in love with you since that very first day."

Rhonda laughed. "Does that mean you want to fuck me?"

"Yes," said Jerry.

Rhonda put her hand on his leg. "Don't break the speed limit, don't take chances, but get me home, because suddenly I want very much to be fucked by you." She laughed. "Jerry, suddenly I feel very good, very wet, and very horny. Have you got all night?"

* * * * *

The Titless Wonder by Boxlicker101

Jake Olson, a 45 year old widower, is raising two sons who are students at Snippetsville High. Usually they walk to and from school, less than a mile from home, but one day, when the younger son, Ronald, had a sprained ankle, Jake drove them. The school wants to avoid trouble and has a strict policy against weapons, or anything that might become a weapon, so Jake went with Ronald to the office to explain his cane.

There was a new face in the office, very pretty, featuring a beautiful smile and velvety brown eyes topped by soft, dark brown hair. Her nameplate said the owner of the face was Kathy McCormick, and Jake felt like a sophomore before this lovely lady as he explained why his son would need a cane for a few days.

"No problem, Mr. Olson. Ronald is one of our best students and no troublemaker. Just sign this form at the bottom. I will too and it will be his pass." Kathy was impressed by the quiet, handsome man, obviously a devoted father. Seeing no trace of a wedding ring, her smile increased in wattage.

Business was light at Jake's Hardware Store and he spent most of his time thinking of the lovely lady he had met briefly. When he left for lunch at the pub across the street, he was determined to learn more about her. Jake isn't much of a drinker, just having a beer and a sandwich at lunch and occasionally a beer after closing his store, but he is popular with the barflies because he sometimes buys beers for them. This was one of those times.

"Anybody know that new woman working at the high school?" Jake asked the men drinking the beer he had just bought.

Brian Shively, who drives around town picking up junk, also picks up gossip and he knew about her. "Her name is Kathy McCormick. Her husband left her last summer. Don't blame him."

"Why'd he leave her?"

"She's titless. She had cancer and the doctor chopped 'em off. Her old man decided she ain't a real woman without tits and I don't blame him."

Levi Oates agreed. "I sure wouldn't stay with a woman without tits. A man needs something to play with."

Jake was perturbed at hearing that about the woman who had made such a strong and good impression. Although not so shallow as to judge a woman on the same basis as the men he had just spoken to, some of his fondest memories were of making love with his wife and kissing and fondling her lovely breasts. They were the first thing he had noticed about her but he had loved and married all of her.

Kathy also thought about Jake and she was in a better position to research the quiet man who had impressed her so much. School records on Ronald Olson listed his mother as deceased and his father as a store owner. "A widower, and he seems like a swell guy but what would he think of a titless wonder like me?" she asked herself. "I hope I see him when he picks up his son."

Neither Kathy nor Jake was a mind reader but their thoughts were similar. "She seems all woman to me, breasts or not. I know I'm thinking about her like I haven't thought about anybody since Nancy died. I think I'll try to get to know her better. Maybe ask her out when I pick up the boys." Thoughts of dating Kathy were so pleasant that Jake decided he would do exactly that if he had a chance.

* * * * *

Umbra's Lady by Wildsweetone

Liz looked over her shoulder; it didn't seem as if he was watching her. With his book held up to fend off the afternoon sun and laying on his back like that, he looked the perfect vision of relaxation. Only one thing gave the game away. His pink cock was lifted slightly from his belly, and as she watched he drew his legs up allowing the sun to dance on his body successfully blocking the view of his cock from her eyes.

Drawing air into her lungs, she turned on her heel then walked down the beach, away from him, away from civilisation, just away.

Further around the island the bush became dense. There were no footprints on the white sand, no trails of human life. She stood on the beach, looking across the Lake. She could see the tip of a white sail, a sparkling diamond in the water.

Liz drew off her flowered dress throwing it down then plonked herself under the shady edge of a spruce, her polaroids turning the world rich. Laying back, she felt the heat of the sun finger its way through her body relaxing the last of the tension from her muscles, massaging mind and soul, tickling the edges of sleep.

She dozed lightly, waking only as a dragging sensation tugged at the corner of her mind. Realising it was more than the corner of her mind being tugged, Liz opened her eyes to long dark hair teasing the inside of her thighs and the rough sensation of tongue dragging along her labia. Clenching the dress, Liz groaned spreading her knees open wider encouraging a deeper intimacy.

He ignored her silent plea, his tongue searching and finding her clit, lifting it a little from its nestling then stroking it, tormenting it until Liz growled,

"If you don't stick that tongue in me right now I'll scream until hell opens and swallows you whole!"

He chuckled, teased her for a few more long lingering moments then thrust his tongue into heaven. His strong fingers massaged the inside of her thighs and her body squirmed under his onslaught.

"Yes! God that's good. Don't stop! Please, don't stop," the last spoken on a whisper of wind as his tongue traced her golden gates.

He licked her then, smiling as her bottom lifted, smiling as her groans became mere wimpers of need and smiling as she gasped grabbing the dress. He didn't stop his tongue from sliding slowly over her clitoris, even when she begged him to "Just fuck me!"

He wrote the alphabet with his tongue, she made it to 't' before her whole body tensed and she grabbed his hair pulling his head hard against her. Within moments her breathing calmed, she released his head from her grip and smiled as he looked up to check she was all right. His left eyebrow raised as she laughed.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "I'd do it again in a flash."

"You would?" direct eye contact tingled, she looked down.

"Oh yeah, in a flash."

"Well, that'd be great, but I think next time it's my turn."

"We have to take turns?"

"Well, yes. Especially now."

"What do you mean especially now?"

"Well, you did me the honours so I simply have to repay you."

"Hmm, when would you like to do that?" he asked.

"I'm staying up at one of the cabins for the weekend. Would you like to come for dinner and...?"

His brow creased in thought, his lips pouted and one finger tapped the little goatee he grew beneath his bottom lip.


* * * * *

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