It is dark, and cats creep craftily through the cracks and crannies of the little town. No longer do they share the bounty of bins knocked over by foraging foxes since the council bought ones with special secure lids, so the truce between the animals is over. Now they hiss and snarl at each other, though only impetuous youngsters make the mistake of attacking.
The time is that period (unappreciated till later) before Covid and the Ukraine war, so people can meet (and mate) easily and fuel is affordable.
Councillor Griffiths (the biologically female one) is enjoying the vigorous thrusts of Mr Donnegan, a working man more than a decade younger than her and her husband. He is the local leader of the refuse collectors' trade union. Her introduction of fox-proof bins pleased the voters but not the refuse collectors, who found them fiddly, but she persuaded them to agree. He (and a couple of trade unionists) find her legs only too easy to open.
In order to accommodate politically advantageous copulation, she has dropped Councillor Fox, which made him quite disgruntled. Now he is fully gruntled, lying on his back while Ms Hunter, the only Green Party councillor, rides him. She is a plain woman whose clothes are more ecological than fashionable, who never wears makeup or shaves anywhere on her quite hairy body. She is also a vegan, so he shares as few meals as possible with her - it is not just the lack of meat, but every ingredient must be quizzed for its air-miles, water usage and effect on local economies. On the plus side, she has a cunt like a suction pump and is eager to exploit his renewable resource to the maximum. Naturally they also share a shower to save water, using eco-friendly shampoo on each other. She has overcome her distaste for plastic by having an internal device which prevents her adding to overpopulation - a small sacrifice for the greater good. All he has to do is support some of her proposals at Council, confident of being outvoted.
The other Councillor Griffiths (biologically male) is a little bit worried by some of the little gifts brought to her by Mr Sykes. It is nice to be treated as a woman in this way, but they are a bit random and she suspects they might be pre-owned. She is satisfied with the workmanlike fucking he gave her tonight, before driving off in his van. He has a rented lockup garage, but not in this town. Sergeant Dixon has a strong suspicion of the purpose of Mr Sykes' nocturnal missions, but since they go to the next county, regards it as their problem, not his.
At the transport cafΓ© and bed and breakfast, Ma Saunders and her husband lie in bed together, his head on her bountiful bosom. He describes to her the fucking he has recently received from Len, his lorry driver lover, and she tells him what it was like for her with last night's guests. They both enjoy cock, so it is good to share this interest together.
This night he goes on to expound the glories of his lover's tight ass. Yes, he uses the word ass - such a tight little word, perfect for the tight little buttocks and the tight little hole of his dreams come true. Ma's magnificent rounded rump can only be an arse. She gets nothing out of the description, but encourages him to share his joy, now that he has finally discovered his true homosexual nature and the means to live it. She is a pure heterosexual, but they both love sex, they love their business and they love each other. It is the perfect marriage.
Mr and Mrs Jones no longer have the perfect marriage. The demands of two children have destroyed their idyll of brother and sister being husband and wife. The couple have less sleep, less free time and a lot less sex. Who would have guessed?
Mr Jones is not the father, though they have some of his genes through his sister. They are the result of a sperm swap in which Mr Jones tossed off for the benefit of Mrs Jones' best friend Mrs Evans (Mr Evans is infertile), and Mrs Evans' handsome brother did the same service for Mrs Jones. The thought occurs to Mrs Jones that it would have been nice if the sperms had been delivered directly, particularly since it took so many attempts. A similar thought occurs to Mr Jones about his own donations, but not for the first time. He since had a vasectomy for the purpose of unbridled congress with his sisterwife. However, both now realise some alternate possibilities. Mr Jones smiles as Mrs Jones frowns and asks him what he is thinking of.