by M. J. Joachim
The water was boiling. It was finally time to clean the floor. Charlie would be home soon; he’d be furious if Emma hadn’t started scrubbing the floors by the time he arrived.
She was pregnant, something that made little difference to Charlie. All he cared about was those stupid floors, and that Emma used boiling water to clean them. He always left very early in the morning. She got up, put on a huge kettle of water, waited for it to boil and poured it all over the floors. Then, naked, she got down on her hands and knees and started scrubbing.
Charlie expected to come home for lunch to find her there, soaking wet from head to toe, naked, sliding all over the place as she worked. He would come in, filthy from the farm, drop his clothes and mount her, “just like animals do in the wild,” he would say. Emma would patiently submit to Charlie’s needs, never offering any hint of displeasure or angst.
As usual, Charlie arrived, stripped and mounted Emma. Suddenly, just as he was ripe and ready to climax, Charlie was thrust backward with a force so strong, he landed on his ass. Dazed, he looked up at Emma. Carefully, she reached over and picked her newborn daughter off the floor.
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Photo credit: Rudolf Kremlička (1886 – 1932), PD – US
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