Hello, and welcome to the fourth 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 4
Scared Of Heights
by PierceStreet
The Golden Oak
by wildsweetone
A Peaceful Place
by BlackSnake
Wishes
by sailorm72003
Illustrations
Header Picture, (c)BlackSnake, 2003
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2003
Now read on...
* * * * *
Scared Of Heights
by
PierceStreet
"Are you OK?" Molly yelled up to the young man standing on the cliff ledge. He was shaking like a leaf.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," she said almost conversationally.
"I'm scared of heights. I thought maybe I'd confront my fear. OK with you?"
"Boy," Molly thought to herself, "give a damn about your fellow man and all you get is attitude." She didn't know the guy, so he was probably one of the college guys that came up to Green Lake on weekends to camp. "He's kind of cute."
Molly was out fishing in her Dad's bass boat when she noticed him standing on the cliff overlooking the lake. The popular lookout had an easy trail leading up to it from behind.
His attitude sparked her mostly latent brat tendency. "If you really want to overcome your fear, jump! The water here is deep."
The guy went white as a sheet.
"Come on," urged Molly, "all the kids do it around here."
His knees where shaking now like he was doing some native dance.
"What's wrong?" she challenged, "Never done anything impulsive?" He shook his head no.
"Jump, and maybe I'll do something impulsive too."
"Why the hell did I say that?", Molly wondered. "You can be a bratty little bitch sometimes. Oh well, he isn't reacting. Time to up the stakes." She whipped off her t-shirt, and looked up at him, giving him a good look at what she was offering. Still he stayed frozen. He wasn't going to jump, and his male ego wasn't going to let him turn and walk away until she left. Molly scooted back to the outboard and started it.
A scream made her look up. The guy had taken a running start and leaped.
He hit the water and disappeared below long enough to concern her. He bobbed up near the boat. Molly laughed, "You crazy asshole."
"Shit." thought the tomboy. "What am I going to do now?" Then it occurred to her, "I've had guys exaggerate, scheme, and tell me sweet lies to be with me, but never has one done what he feared the most." She helped him into the boat, and wasn't surprised when he thought it his right to press his wet body up to hers and kiss her deeply.
"Sit down." she commanded, as she put the boat in motion. She pulled the boat into a secluded cove and tied it to a tree. They waded ashore. He turned to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to him. His hands explored her ass while they kissed, then started working her shorts down. Molly pulled his shirt up over his head, then unbuttoned his shorts. Things were moving fast, the release of adrenaline making him frantically horny. And it was catching, and all too soon, they were on the ground, he buried in her, her legs wrapped around him.
He was approaching his climax, when Molly admitted to herself it wasn't going to happen for her. Normally it did, but normally there was more foreplay then this. It was OK, it still felt good, and he'd confronted his worst fear. He deserved a reward.
Movement caught Molly's eye. There was someone on the hillside above. At first she panicked, then recognized Jack from the diner. She motioned for him to be quiet, and not disrupt the young man's pending orgasm. Then something amazing happened, Molly felt her own orgasm come out of nowhere and overwhelm her. Molly shouted her joy to the world, or at least for Jack to hear.
And an exhibitionist was born.
* * * * *
The Golden Oak
by
wildsweetone
The wooden kauri penholder sat on the desk, its ink pen held in the manicured hand of Mrs Dresden, sole remaining owner of The Golden Oak.
The Golden Prison would be infinitely more correct, she thought as she signed each goatskin sheet in front of her. The new Deed completed, she folded then replaced it in the vault behind the Renoir.
Her family originally from Duchy English soil, Elizabeth recalled her mother talking about 'Home' and how Snippettesville would never equal what they'd been forced to leave behind. Having no siblings, she had inherited the property alone.
"Aunt Elizabeth, are you finished in here yet? I need you upstairs for a few minutes." That Kevin leaned with indifference against the oak doorframe did nothing to dispel his air of excitement.
"What is it now, Kevin?" Elizabeth did not lift her head.
"For God's sake, Aunt. Just leave that paperwork and come upstairs."
Unwilling to wait for her to finish her paperwork, he took Elizabeth's hand then firmly propelled her through the door and up the highly polished oak staircase.
"Kevin dear, I simply don't have time."
"Yes Aunt, you always have time for this." He led her firmly into his own room and pushed her backward onto his four poster bed. The curtains trembled as the bed rocked with her slight weight.