An adult stories – Little Town Dreams by SlightlyRude,SlightlyRude It is dark, and the little town sleeps. The year is not so long ago. There is no internet to tell people that their unusual thoughts and preferences might not be uncommon. There are only salacious articles in Sunday newspapers pretending to be shocked and disgusted by vaguely described practices, and ruining people’s lives. Any deviations of thought or deed must be kept secret.
Only the cats stalk the streets, in their soft sly way. Dark cloud covers the Moon, but in the churchyard an owl listens for tiny rustles on the overgrown graves.
All decent folk are abed, save for police constables Atkins and Dixon sitting bored in their car and making desultory conversation as another empty night shift looms before them. The pub closed at eleven and its patrons have walked or staggered home, so there is nothing else to do.
Councillor Griffiths’ great belly rises and falls as he sleeps. Beside him, Mrs Griffiths dreams of the strong young man who enthusiastically impaled her with his lust before he became Councillor Griffiths. Councillor Griffiths smiles as he dreams of walking into the Council Chamber wearing a lovely floral dress.
At the transport café and bed-and-breakfast, the woman generally known as Ma Saunders is alone in her bed. Her husband is next door. She is a full-bodied woman who serves a full-bodied fried breakfast to the lorry drivers and commercial travellers who frequent her establishment. They do good business.
There is a knock on the door, and a guest enters, a little uncertainly. Her bountiful bosom and warm welcoming womanhood will soon overcome all hesitation, and he will plough her vigorously. It is his first time. There is no charge, only a trust which has to be earned by good behaviour on several visits, before being invited to penetrate her inviting moist depths. He does well, so the traveller will be coming here again.
Head Teacher Mr Harris groans softly as he dreams of the curvaceous twenty-three-year-old new Geography teacher, Miss Smith. Beside him, his wife is not asleep, but lies quiet and happy, revelling in her seduction of Miss Smith, and the pleasures they still have to come.
In her single bed, Miss Smith strokes her pussy gently, thinking of dear Mrs Harris. She gets a thrill from the lust she awakens in teenage boys and the Head Teacher, and the lost cause of their fantasies.
Judge Harcourt is wakened from a dream of the masterly summing-up he should have done, by a nudge from his wife.
“I need a pee,” she says, sleepily.
Obediently he goes down and places his lips over her vulva, inhaling the rich womanliness of her pubic hair. She lets go with a sigh of relief, and he gulps it all down despite the rich taste. Not a drop must be spilled. He licks her until she turns away and mumbles “night” then goes to rinse his mouth and clean his teeth.
Enthusiastic Catholic Mr Houseman wakes with a mixture of pleasure and guilt as his stiff cock pumps semen into his pyjamas, pulsing thick liquid like porridge again and again. He gave up masturbation for Lent. Was this a sign?
Time passes. Someone with a suitcase is leaving the house of Mr and Mrs Brown. Is it one of them?
No, it is Mr Sykes, the burglar, slipping silent and sly as a cat through the night.
Mrs Brown is visiting her sister in Merthyr Tydfil. Mr Brown is visiting the grateful Miss Higgins, librarian and spinster of this parish, to practise cunnilingus. He attempted this art on his honeymoon which was roundly condemned by his new wife as ‘unpleasant malarky’. Mrs Brown does not do orgasms, but does her marital duty once a week without complaint. Miss Higgins does do orgasms, which Mr Brown finds wonderful. They have agreed that without penetration, and no loss to Mrs Brown, it is not strictly being unfaithful.
Tomorrow, Mr Brown will have to explain how he slept through the burglary.
As Mr Sykes crosses the road he hopes the constables will not look in the mirrors of the car.
They do not. Their conversation is now irredeemably sexist, and (whenever possible) racist.
Discussing the relative bedworthiness of constable Trubshaw and probationary constable Khan, they are now both wishing they could have a wank. Had they been able to see these two young women in action together at the moment, they would not have been able to resist.
Mr and Mrs Jones lovingly embrace, after passionate sex. Anyone can see how deeply this young couple are in love. They are utterly dedicated to each other, and completely happy. There is no need for others to know that the wedding ring did not follow a wedding and they are brother and sister.
Mr Mason is lying on his side because his buttocks are sore. He knows the marks of the cane are going to smart as he drives his bus in the morning, but he deserves it.
Councillor Griffiths is also lying on his side and in another dream. A handsome black man is going to fuck him.
“Oh, it’s so big!” he mumbles happily, then lets out a great smelly fart.
“For God’s sake!” says his wife, flapping the duvet.
Happily married for thirty years, Mr Thomas smiles with his guilty secret. He has been unfaithful twice. But only in his dream. In the dream he believes it and it is a recurring one. His wife is dreaming that she can speak French perfectly, which is far from the truth. She doesn’t need to dream about being unfaithful, having done it many times.
There is a wailing outside.
“Bloody cats!” says Councillor Griffiths. To him it is a racket, but to them it is beautiful, and the prelude to making love.
A YEAR LATER
The little town sleeps, quiet as ever. Occasional clouds drift across the quarter moon, as the cats patrol their rightful domain.
Councillor Griffiths’ belly rises and falls, but now it is in a pink nightdress, and is not as great as it used to be. Just a little more weight loss, and he will be able to wear the floral dress that Mrs Griffiths has bought him. At home, in secret, at least. She does not expect the return of the young man who sometimes comes to her dreams, but his health and happiness is important to her.
She has bought a vibrator she uses when he is at Council or committee meetings. It was advertised in a women’s magazine for the relief of muscular aches, showing a drawing of a woman holding it to her shoulder. She uses it for a different kind of relief.
Mr Sykes now resides at one of HM Prison Services’ fine establishments, with free food and lodging for the next five years. Constable Atkins is kind enough to visit his wife two or three times a week to see that her needs are met.
The Browns now have a burglar alarm, and have come to an accommodation. Mr Brown is permitted what Mrs Brown calls ‘malarky’ – anything but a fuck – with Miss Higgins, providing she knows when this is happening. In return, Mr Brown has to agree to his wife’s wishes and demands in every way.
Sitting in the patrol car, Constable Dixon has just enjoyed a wank, provided by the sultry, sensuous and skilful Constable Khan. He has been delighted to discover that she is bisexual, and fully capable of managing two lovers. He dreams of a threesome, but Constable Trubshaw states this will never happen.
The delectable Miss Smith has found a new lover in the Gym Mistress, so both Mr and Mrs Harris ache in their unrequited lust for her. He has applied for a post elsewhere, anywhere away from the gorgeous geographer.
Judge Harcourt is glad to be wakened from a dream where he is on trial himself, by a nudge from his wife.
“I need a pee,” she says, sleepily.
Obediently he goes down and places his lips over her vulva, inhaling the rich womanliness of her pubic hair. She lets go with a sigh of relief, and he gulps it all down despite the rich taste. Not a drop must be spilled. He licks her until she turns away and mumbles “night” then goes to rinse his mouth and clean his teeth.
Lapsed Catholic Mr Houseman has given up abstinence for Lent. He gorges on fatty food, and is trying to break his own masturbation record.
Mr Thomas still dreams of being unfaithful. His wife decided to admit her own infidelity and offered him the same in an open marriage. Probably wisely, he has decided not to risk it, but keep it to his dream.
Mr Saunders groans with pleasure as the woman that even he calls Ma, sucks his cock. He is grateful for the loving attention, but his mind is focussed on the naked young man in the magazine he holds. It was bought on a guilty visit to the back room of a bookshop in London. He tried his best when they were first married, but his wife’s ample arse could not be mistaken for the tight bum of his dreams, and he was not enough for her large libido. Discovering the truth, they came to an arrangement as they built up the business, and are as happy as they could be in their shared life. Apart from their sexual preferences, it is a perfect marriage. He has never actually dared to be with another man. She never sucks anyone else’s cock.
In the afterglow of intercourse, Mr and Mrs Jones each gaze in adoration at the beautiful face in front of them. As brother and sister, they have loved all their lives. To be Mrs and Mrs is a privilege they can hardly believe.
“Mrs Jones,” he whispers, for that is how they address each other in the privacy of their home.
“Mr Jones,” she answers happily, and needs to say no more.
If only they could have children – but they know why they should not.
Mr Mason has had his balls smacked with a plastic paddle, and is beginning to think things have gone a bit far. His masochism is obviously not as strong as her sadism. His wife is starting to think the same thing, and is wondering what else or who else to try.
“Bloody cat!” says Councillor Griffiths, as it crawls over him without regard for his comfort. It is a young male which has taken his place in his wife’s affection, and has priority on the bed.
FIVE YEARS ON
The town sleeps. It is dark with a light drizzle, so the cats stay in shelter. Only a fox searches through the rubbish.
Constable Atkins has a black eye, and Mr Sykes is back in custody, charged with assaulting a police officer. Once again they are in the police car, and Constable Dixon is moaning about the perfidy of women, as Constable (soon to be Sergeant) Khan has found pastures new. Wily Sergeant Trubshaw is now bedding Chief Inspector Harris, tipped to be the first female Chief Constable in the County.
Councillor Griffiths, in full makeup and a babydoll nightdress, groans with pleasure as Mrs Griffiths applies a vibrator to his not-so-ample arse. It is not her vibrator, perish the thought, but his own, for hygiene, you understand. He does quite a lot of the housework but no longer makes love to her. On reflection, she has decided a vibrator is better. He has not yet worn a dress to a Council meeting, but has a fair chance of being Mayor next year, with robes which are nearly as good.
Ma Saunders welcomes another guest to her boudoir, pleased to know that at the same time her husband is at last enjoying the pleasures of male flesh. It was a young lorry driver whom she invited on his third visit. As he demurred, she guessed his preference, and said her husband had this bent, at which point he made the red-faced confession that he too had the desire, and they were introduced. It was not immediate, but the two men got to know each other, and in their joint innocence found ways to pleasure each other. The B&B is now the stopping point on regular trips to and from Scotland. The technical term for the return journey is ‘delivering a back load’. They use the term for something else.
Mr and Mrs Jones lovingly embrace, after gentle sex. At last they need no protection, for she is pregnant. The solution came when her best girlfriend at school found her husband was infertile, and confided in a letter. She is one of the few trusted people to know their secret. Mr Jones has provided her with the sperms that eventually allowed her motherhood, and a child for him. In return, the friend’s brother provided sperms for Mrs Jones. He is married but they have decided against children.
Miss Smith and her lover were the ones to leave, so Mr Harris is still Head Teacher, having given them outstanding references. After a burglary, the Harrises were visited by Constable Khan, whose tendencies were correctly assessed by the astute Mrs Harris, and a relationship was skilfully negotiated. Now they enjoy an occasional threesome.
Judge Harcourt failed to keep his wife from pissing the bed, and was severely punished. This so disturbed him that his summing up of a case was ruled prejudicial at appeal, and the undoubted villain went free. His hope of being appointed to the High Court and possibly a knighthood was dashed. In his rage the marital relationship was overturned, and replaced by simple hostility and separate beds. His sentences are noticeably more severe. In quiet times he thinks about the perfect murder.
Vociferous atheist Mr Houseman has had the satisfaction of adultery with Mrs Thomas, having previously coveted her, ticking off two sins on his mental list. He knows no-one with an ox and an ass, and would have difficulty coveting them anyway.
Mrs Mason now acts as a part-time dominatrix to a willing slave, which gets her useful pin-money, meanwhile giving Mr Mason enough punishment to keep both of them happy.
Mrs Brown strongly (and rightly) suspects that Mr Brown and Miss Higgins have gone beyond malarky. However, she is so pleased with her new kitchen she is not going to make a fuss.
Councillor Griffiths is on the edge of the bed to allow space for the cat which now rules it. There are crashes and yowls outside.
“Bloody foxes!” he says.
“The Council ought to do something about it,” says his wife, smiling gently.