Once, the bag was emptied into my bowels, my wife moved to the vanity and began applying her make-up. She took nearly five minutes working on her eyes...until they have a sort of whorish Cleopatra look. She came back to the bathtub and said,“Blow it out, bitch. Let’s see if we need another flush.”Of course, in the piledriver position, the water in my butt rains down on my face, chest and head. It was nearly clean, but just enough shit to give it a light tea color. Tiffany decided I need another. “Oh.” Kara said. She screwed her pretty face up in thought - clearly thrown by my lack of concern.I knew what it had to look like from her perspective; Emily was wearing a rumpled dress that looked very out of place in the light of the day. To anyone seeing her exiting a house not her own, the logical assumption would be that the person in question had spent the night. The thing Kara was wrestling with though was that Emily had been exiting her own house.“Is - is mom home?” Kara asked, trying. More

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