A little of this and a bit more

Alan Crawford presents twisted short and some longer stories for adults, with quite a number of his rants and observations as well.

Several curious people, really it’s just one, asked me how or where the ideas came from. Thankfully there’s no clear answer. When the trousers, mind, or weather conditions suit such things, the computer opens, a page appears, and it starts to flow. See menu for the main Short Stories.


Young lovers

Reading Time: 4 minutesIt was all about young lovers and there wasn’t much more that could be said. The date had reached its natural conclusion, it wasn’t as either thought it would be. The interrupted love spoke volumes about young lovers living at home. Not their home but their parents home. Both had very observant, keenly interfering, slightly prudish oldies and both had rebelled as young folks do every-where, every-time.

Robert was one or two frantic moments from concluding his build up and Ruth was not far behind. She was paying attention to her front. In fact, they had decided to try the behind for the first time. When yelled at, Robert became relaxed all too quickly and had to disconnect himself from Ruth with some seriously embarrassed haste, no style and sadly some mess.

The high school security guard had demanded that they stop what they were doing and get out of the school’s gymnasium. They had found themselves in the pit of foam cutouts that allowed young limber students to land safely when they jumped over or from a range of ridiculous objects.

The undoing

The act of dismounting for Robert was rather difficult as a firm footing was almost impossible. Ruth thought she had helped by removing herself from the embrace, but that action forced them both into a semi-naked biologically fluid somersault. Apt really considering where they were, they were breaking new ground. The guard was trying to disguise his surprise, shock and pleasure all in one gesture. He failed and the young couple both caught a glimpse of how shocked and pleased he was to be catching them.

Wally had spotted a phrase that could describe this moment on a men’s toilet wall. Despite it being too rude for Google he Googled it to discover that he liked it and would remember to use the phrase again. Wally was a passionate wordsmith in his private time and was studying to become a high school PE teacher. Working nights and studying during the day. He lived in a shit box one bedroom unit in the business district, which offered chaos during the day and not a sound a peep or squeak at night. In fact his building would feature in Police reports for other matters.

Sadly for Wally, he attempted to sleep for what was left of the day after classes. He struggled to get rest before suiting up and heading off to Rambolt High School each night. His five-hour sleep habit was taking its toll.

The adjustment

Ruth had corrected her attire, her demeanour and scrambled out of the foam pit. She looked incredibly calm for someone who seconds before was full of pleasure and reaching for more. Robert was a mess. The sweat on his brow, arms and other areas had attracted foam powder and the smaller cutouts and he looked like he’d been tarred and feathered. A routine worry for young lovers.

The sweat and outcome of the position choice added to the sticky foamy mess he was trying to tuck into his pants. His face he’d get to later, but his waist down aspect was anything but fine. He was loose, undone, offering bits of foam to Ruth and Wally and exposing flesh in an order that Ruth thought was hilarious.

In fact Robert, Ruth and Wally ended up laughing out loud at the situation, especially at Robert’s current predicament. He’d finally decided to remove his pants, remove his Big Elephant underpants and shed the foam stuck everywhere. Once completed the Big Elephant regained it’s position, trunk and all, while the jeans slipped back nicely into their position.

They’d finished

The embarrassment subdued and a casual stroll to the exit was underway. Wally ensured they left the property and went about his nightly rounds. He did not see it coming.

He dropped dead onto the concrete playground in an instant when the high calibre round tore through his head. The shot, perfect aim and the result as ordered. Adam had practised for some time and knew he’d be fine as long as it wasn’t raining or windy. The target was to be a random guy or girl at the school at night, a trespasser, a school maintenance worker or security guard.

Anyone that happened to be there at 02.00. Adam had checked out two lovers bouncing about in the foam pit but thought it would be too cruel to shoot one and leave the other and besides which one would he pop. They both looked very young and very close to popping all by themselves. As young lovers do. When the security guy appeared it was set. Let him kick them out and then shoot him. Adam did just that. Packed up his brand new rifle and bagged the bits and bobs he was told not to leave there and away he went into the night.

Adam was hired to shoot

Shoot someone and then unbeknownst to him, be shot himself when he dropped off the riffle and the bag with the bits and bobs. He did the dropping thirty minutes after the shot and was dead himself just two minutes after that.

The company that set these outrageously violent acts in motion could be rather ruthless. They had reasons for setting such a random shooting in play and had planned the response with precision. The media release was ready to go with the interviewees primped and cleaned in readiness.

What they didn’t realise is that the son and daughter of the CEO and CFO respectively were involved in a passionate moment or two in the school grounds just minutes before the shooting. In fact, it became clear that despite the risk of blowback and embarrassment from the oldies the young lovers contacted the Police.

They happened to see Adam shoot the guard, witnessed him leave the grounds and watched him bounce himself into a very obvious motor car before he sped off. Both conscientious students had to contact the Police, they told their tale. Details of their passion they kept to themselves. The cleaner finding the congealed foam dust, cut-outs and condom the next day was another tale. Maybe to be told another time.

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I'm an increasingly grumpy old fart posting rants, observations and trying to write somewhat twisted short and slightly longer stories for adults. All rights reserved unless otherwise credited © Alan Crawford - 2024

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