I cannot claim any credit for this lovely bit of prose.
"Middle aged madness
She arched her back and gave a low, guttural moan. He leant forwards and grunted, gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.
‘I’m almost there’, she gasped, encouragingly, ‘I just need to move my hips and get a bit of rhythm going…’
‘I think I’ll have to go on my knees,’ he panted.
‘It’s never been this hard before’ she sighed.
Sweat dripped down off his brow, she bit softly down onto her bottom lip, they locked eyes, each urging the other on.
The dog whined and tried to jump up to join in. Suddenly they were there.
Both held their breath, before releasing it simultaneously with a soft ‘Ahhhh!’
Finally! They had managed to escape the bastard squishy sofa and stand upright.
‘There’s never a fart when you need one, to help you up.’ She complained. ‘Yet if I’m bending over to look in the freezer at Aldi, next to a snooty mare, my arsehole will blast off and propel me over to the aisle of shame, chuffing like a steam train. All I need is a guard hat and a whistle!’
‘Thanks for the reminder, I need to go and give the downstairs loo a third flush, it was fighting back’, he said, sexily.
‘You better put those boxers in the wash, I don’t think they’ll go another day’ she replied, at the same time making a mental note not to use them for having a quick dust round in the morning, on her way to the washing machine.
She wondered if her own knickers would do, and tried to remember how many days she had been wearing them. They were protected by a giant piss pad, so could usually go a few days.
However, she then felt the uncomfortable sensation of a wedgie, which felt like a pillow had been shoved between her bum cheeks.
Alas, this was a clear indicator that the pad had been displaced during the excursion to get off the sofa. Meaning her knickers were immediately placed on high alert for a sly leak, and therefore considered unsuitable dusting equipment.
She reached down to try and wiggle the wedgie out of her bum crack, just as her husband emerged from the toilet, triumphant because the fourth flush had seen the giant turd off.
‘Did you use bleach and air freshener?’ She wondered, hopefully.
‘No need, I’ve left the door open’ he replied proudly, as they were suddenly enveloped in a wall of shit.
‘Fucks sake’ she muttered, hobbling to the stairs like a crooked ancient.
After creaking and leaking up the stairs, clutching the bannister like a cool gin on a hot day, they slipped into bed together.
Almost immediately both managed an impressive volley of farts that levitated them in a way they could only dream about when ensnared in the squishy depths of sofa.
He fell asleep mid fart and began to snore.
She looked on resentfully, filled with spiteful thoughts, before stomping off to the spare room.
Welcome to middle age marriage 😜
Copyright Middle age madness/Sarah Stenton"
