Klempner

It’s not as though I don’t have the time to think… To plan…

I might be short on the creature comforts, but if there’s one thing I have in endless supply, it’s time.

And the time hangs.

There are times I consider finishing it. It wouldn’t be difficult: to tangle myself in the chain and let myself fall into the fetid water.

But even at the end of hope, life remains sweet.

And I have a better reason…

Mitch...

When I think of Juliana’s threats, my throat tightens, my breath catches. My mind freezes over.

But I’m no good to Mitch like that. Or Jenny. So I don’t let myself dwell on it.

She’s alive…

If she weren’t. Or if Juliana had succeeded in committing some harm to her, I’m quite sure she would have told me. Almost certainly, she would show me some kind of proof.

She hasn’t. Ergo, Mitch is alive and well.

But Juliana is never going to release me…

The key…

It dangles from its nail, tormenting me with its promise of freedom.

I have to be patient, make my moves slowly. But I can’t afford too much patience. With the poor diet and unsanitary conditions…

… and the depression…

… and the darkness…

… I’m conscious that I’m no longer in good physical condition. And that’s only going to get worse every day.

Even the fetter around my ankle is looser than it was.

How much weight have I lost?

How long can I last?

I have to escape.

So… How?

*****

Michael

“Morning, Mitch.”

Early Spring sunshine streams down on the sultry beauty. A large bag full of who-knows-what women’s paraphernalia is by her feet. A book pokes out of the top. Pregnancy For The Older Woman: All You Need To Know.

She smiles at me from her seat by her front door, setting a porcelain cup on its saucer. Mint-scented steam rises from the pale-green tea.

Cradled into the nook of her other arm, Cara gurgles, trying to point at the birds pecking up a little scattered grain. Her aim’s a bit off, still wobbly and uncoordinated, but she’s trying. As she sees me, she breaks into a gummy smile, then at the sight of Bear and Scruffy trotting along behind, she bounces and jiggles in Mitch’s embrace, little arms outstretched.

“You alright there? With Cara using you as a trampoline?” I nod down to the now noticeable swelling of her stomach.

“I'm fine. Just holding her until James arrives. He's having a shower after he and Jenny went riding.”

“You’re waiting for him?”

“He's dropping me off at the clinic on his way to the office. Jenny’s in the stable if you’re looking for her.”

“I was, yes. I'm at a loose end, so I thought I'd see if she wants some help with the garden.”

“I think you’ll find she’s mucking out the horses right now.”

The clip of leather on stone behind me: it’s James, freshly shaven, his hair still damp; suited and booted. “All ready, Mitch?”

“I am, yes.” She makes to stand. “Michael, could you…”

“Of course.” I take Cara from her. The tiny girl blows a bubble at me. I blow one back.

James heads for the stable…. “I'll just say goodbye to Charlotte…” … and reappears half a minute later followed by Charlotte.

“Okay, let's go.” James offers Mitch his hand. Although her pregnancy is showing now, she still moves gracefully, elegant on his arm.

“Thanks, Michael.” Charlotte takes Cara from my arms. Then, to her mother, “You're sure you don't want me to come with you?”

a big girl. I can

Mitch’s bag. “Let me carry this to the car

*****

I enter, knowing what to expect as I take the usual carrot from my pocket. Oliver snorts and stamps, then as I snap the carrot in two, stretches forward to accept his half. Both horses munch contently. Bear drops into the straw panting. Scruffy

is back up to her knees in horse bedding, fork in

see if you needed any

forks up another load of straw, shaking the clean

back to a

in one hand, balancing it on the other. She purses her mouth, tilts her head. “Is it normal? Mom pregnant. My father

“Let's pretend it's normal.”

do we

I grin. And wait.

eyes me. “What? What is

eyes. Flash my brows. “What's

eyes narrow. “You've got

would that

“You know what look.”

Oh, yeah…

Let her see me doing it. “You know, you really do things for me like

at her cheeks. “I'm shovelling horse shit into a barrow, and I do

from her and set it against the wall. “I rather like you dressed like that too.” A hand on

struggles, hands on my chest as though trying to push me away. But she’s not trying very hard. “There’re those, Michael Summerford, who might say you

stable. “What I can bend you over in here?”

houses tack, bits of leather, saddle soap, wax and rope. A single enormous cobweb drapes diagonally from one edge up

side to make way for fleecy blankets and the gurgling Cara. She’s already watching us, and as she sees me looking at her, she gurgles, beaming a gummy

Sweetie.” I scoop her up, supporting her under the arms to bounce her up and down a bit. Then, I move into the sunshine to get a better look. “She’s getting

and I exchange smiles. “She

does.” I kiss the little girl’s forehead. “Who’s going to be a dark-eyed lovely, then?” She chuckles, burbles and blows a bubble at

moves to stand by me, rests her head on my shoulder. “The next one’s yours. Perhaps she… or he… will

horse tack. When I reply, I speak carefully, choosing my words. “I had the impression, Babe… that… you

shrugs. “I’ll admit, the reality came as a shock. I’d never realised just how big a change it is. But I’ve gotten past that. I'm ready for it this

that?” I cup her cheek with my

you want

rock her gently side to side. “More than

“Almost?”

Pulling back, I press a finger to her mouth. “I don't want you doing something

want to. If

hands down behind her, I palm her ass. A plump cheek cupped in either hand, my

I smell of

and tosses her head… I nibble at an

to push me away… ”Michael Summerford, you are

married me.” I pull her back towards me by the ass, pressing her against my burgeoning groin. “It's rather nice

might be protesting, but her eyes say otherwise. Hitching her up, I semi-prop her against

dance as her hands come up back up around

Get yourself comfortable.”

“If you think you're parking my bare ass on prickly

the ground, Tugging my sweater off over my head, I lay it over the straw. “A throne fit for a queen. Now…” I return to her belt… “Let's

my hands. “Let

good thought.” Hoisting her up again, I plonk her on the sweater, then tug off her boots. Then her jeans and panties, to leave her naked from the waist down. My cock’s already at half-mast inside my jeans as I move in close and she wraps her legs

straw, I push her knees open. “Rest your feet

my shoulders, Charlotte leans back, her ponytail swinging back against the straw, giving me a front-row view

in her voice. “You're not going to scare the

how much noise you

inner thighs, veeing to the startling copper of the curls; her

long, slow, finger-tip caresses, starting by her knees and drawing down and into her warming sex. “I knew

closed, she chuckles again. “It is,

labia with a fingertip. “You're so beautiful you know. I never get

mine. “Shovelling

now. Apart from your boobs, you've gotten

“D’you think I'll get it back as

really did bother

of her as

why not. You look after yourself. Um… you realise you're not likely to conceive

can't practice. And if we're going to have a lot of babies in the house, we might as

“Your brother or sister...”

“Yeah... There’s a thought…”

Getting a little serious?

Save that for later…

the same path as I did with my finger: a soft bite just below her knee, then drawing the heat of my lips and tongue

again, settling back and lifting her hips

followed by a nudge on the shoulder,

“Shove off, Charlie!”

air blows

This isn’t

mare gives a disappointed nicker and ambles back to her spot in the straw, exchanges nuzzles with Oliver, then tugs a wisp of hay from the rack. Jaws grinding the hay

back against the bales, her

me from one side and you

curling up to her chest while I try

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