Daily Archives: 16/10/2013

#Wicked Wednesday – Freshly Scrubbed (Fiction)

Write from the point of view of a freshly scrubbed floor.
As usual on Wicked Wednesday, I asked SilverHubby for his thoughts, and this is what he said:

I am feeling freshly scrubbed and am trying not to mind the fact that I smell of cleaning products. It’s been an interesting evening.

He was working from home today, she was out somewhere. Sometime after dark he started doing things that weren’t part of the normal routine. When one of them is out of the house without the other, they always leave a light on in the hallway. At various times I have heard one of them say: “There’s a light burning for you, to help you find your way home.” This evening he turned the hallway light off, plunging me into near darkness apart from the small amount of light from the street lamps that shone through the glass panels along the top of the door. He stood in the shadows, clad only in a tee shirt, apparently waiting for something more to happen.

I heard the sound of a key in the lock. It was she. She called out his name, a slightly worried tone to her voice, wondering why the house was in darkness. She took a step onto me and he pounced, grabbing her by the hair and one wrist, pushing the door shut with his body. She squealed in surprise and the hand in her hair moved across her mouth as he pulled her against him. His other hand started tearing at her blouse and skirt, pulling them aside, not off.

He pushed her to the floor, but taking care to break her fall. Her breasts, half out of her bra, were squashed against me, as was her belly. I saw him use his knee to force her legs apart as he pulled her panties down, but not off.

She was struggling, but not very hard. A few drips of something wet fell from between her legs and onto me. A stickier liquid dripped from between his legs and mixed with it. I saw him enter her body roughly, but with little resistance. He grunted, she squealed. One of his hands moved to her throat, squeezing gently. Her body was being pushed rhythmically against me as he thrust into her.

More sticky, musky liquid fell on me as he pulled out of her and entered a different, tighter, orifice. She squealed again, but was lifting off me to push back against him. The dripping from her other hole increased, as did his grunting. He no longer needed to hold her down, as she was reaching back as best she could to pull him deeper into her body.

I couldn’t tell you whether he or she made the most noise at the end. I can tell you that a great deal of sticky white stuff fell out of her and onto me as he left her body. I can also report that she collapsed against me with a whimper as he said: “Welcome home, slut.”

A little later, she came to me on her knees, a squirty bottle and cloth in her hand. She did a very good job of making me feel freshly scrubbed.

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