Sarah was washing the floor on her hands and knees.

She has a thing about the white tile in the kitchen. If it shows even a hint of grunge she won’t use the steam mop I bought. Nope. She has to get down on the floor with cleaning wipes and scrub.

I guess there are worse hang-ups than that.

I wasn’t thinking about her crawling around with her magic wipes so much as I was fixated on watching her heart-shaped ass in her yellow shorts.

“Hey, there, dirty floor brigade,” I said, bending to give her a good swat on the ass as I went past her on my way to the fridge.

She hissed from the sudden stinging contact, and my dick twitched.

She had said “ouch,” but she was also laughing. She even wiggled her ass a little, which shut down the logical... Read More