Hanging Pedos by their Bollocks from a Lamp Post 1 - Sex Stories

Hanging Pedos by their Bollocks from a Lamp Post 1

Written in response to "Little Molly's introduction" by suffer4me69 This is set in Lancashire England where people speak like on Coronation Street on Telly and swear a lot. If you don't like the F word don't F-ing read it. The scene, a grotty former working mens club near Manchester England. Revised June 2015 to meet current guidelines ============================================ "Al, you can't hang pedophiles up by their bollocks." I told him. "Why the fuck not Johnno, why the fuck not?" he replied as he downed his thirteenth pint of John Smiths, in the gloom of our local club. "Ease up mate your driving," I reminded him, "You want get a black coffee before we goes home." "I'm fine," he says, "But look mate I got to get me election address stuff done by Wednesday, and I reckon hanging pedophiles up by their bollocks is a vote winner." "Mate, that's BNP not Lib Dem policy," I told him but he wasn't listening, he was watching Linda Hewes ample bosom as she pulled pints behind the bar of the Bar de Dauville, or Whetherfield (Todmoor Main) Miners and Shunters club as it used to be. Al ignored me and turned and leered at the barmaid, "Fancy a shag darlin?" he said seductively as he slid over to the bar with all the grace of a drunken ostrich, whatever they are. "You got fifty quid?" she replied with fluttering eyelashes and I knew I was walking home. "Nah, only got thirty left," he lied and so instead of enjoying the warmth of Linda's luscious curves and ample bosom and the ...

... undoubted comfort of Linda's flat over the Club the dark hand of fate sent us both out into the cold Yorkshire night air when kicking out time came around. We got nearly a quarter mile before Al had to stop to spew up, at least he got the door open first this time, and as he stood there vomiting up what seemed like gallons of foaming John Smiths ale, pasties pizza and the rest who should turn up in a blaze of blue flashing lights but Tony Mulholland, or PC Mulholland as he was usually known. "Been drinking Lads?" he asked. "Yeah, they say you have to drink four litres of water a day," I explained, as Al threw up all over Tony's shoes. "Right, I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the station." Tony says. "It's shut, last train goes at quarter to midnight," Al said straight faced. "We can still accompany him mate," I said almost as drunkenly, "You hum Bass part and I'll." "Bloody shut up the pair of you," Tony said, "What's all this about Pedo's" "Wants stringing up by their bollocks," Al said. "Bollocks," I said. "Yeah, you're not wrong." Tony said, "You know any?" "Nope," we said together. "Well," Tony said and he fished his palm top computer out, "This bastard lives in Otley road," he said and showed this school teachery looking bloke. "Christ I knows him!" Al says. "School Teacher." Tony says, "Got off on a technicality," he added, "And this one," he showed us another picture, a scruffy druggie type, "He got a suspended sentence for screwing a three underage," he let the ...