A small bang sounded. A little squeak slipped past Kara's lips. Her husband thrust again. Kara's head cracked against the headboard a second time.
"Clark."
His eyes were closed in concentration. His breathing was ragged. Their pelvises met. Kara braced herself. She felt her hair brush the cast iron decorations above her but she avoided a bruise. She squirmed her ass down the bed as he withdrew in a vain effort to gain a few inches.
"Clark."
He grunted and thrust. Bang.
"Clark!"
"What?"
"That hurts."
"It does?"
She rubbed her bruised crown. "Yeah, can you scoot down a little?"
His face took on a ruddy color. He smiled sheepishly. "Oh."
They wiggled down the bed together. Kara remained impaled. They kissed briefly and then Clark resumed his steady slide, bump, slid, bump pace. Kara's ass edged up the bed with every thrust. The arch of her pelvis was beginning to feel a little bruised. The whole experience was, ordinary.
She moaned to cover her yawn.
With her utterance he groaned too. His thrusts became erratic. He impaled her and just kept pushing before withdrawing and impaling her again. His lips were pulled back in an odd little snarl and the arms that could manage hundred pushups without giving out, trembled. Sweat dripped from his brow.
It landed in Kara's eye. She hissed in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and they both teared up. A few dozen heartbeats passed.
Clark rolled off her.
"Ow, ow, ow, Clark! My leg!"
"Sorry."
"Be careful!"
"Sorry."
She huffed and climbed out of bed to wash off. His gaze tailed her bare ass. Even though their one-year anniversary was next month, pink tinged her cheeks. Clark sighed when she closed the bathroom door. She ignored it.
Clark left to clean up when Kara had returned in her flannel pajamas. She rolled away from him. She pretended to be asleep. Clark settled in, his back turned to her.
Minutes ticked by. Red, liquid crystal numbers burnt into the retina of Kara's watery eyes. At eleven-eleven, Clark began to snore.
Kara fished her tablet out from her bookshelf nightstand. She played Tetris until the unsatisfied ach between her legs went away.
The next morning was gym, shower, Carharts and shirt for him. Gym, shower, white blouse and blue-jeans for her. Three eggs and toast for him. A bagel with strawberry cream-cheese for her. They kissed. He pinched. She squealed. It wasn't real.
Half way through their second cup of coffee, Clark set down his cup. He leaned towards her on his elbows. "Kara, what's your fantasies?"
Kara's coffee was at her lips. She sipped too much and burnt her tongue. "My what?"
"Your fantasies? What do you think of when we have sex?"
"Really? Clark, is this the time to talk about that?"
"Yes."
She reached over and grabbed his plate. She got up, opened the dishwasher and began to clear the table. Her dark ponytail whipped about her about her with the jerky hast of her motions. "Clark, you got t' go to work."
"Kara, sit down. We need to talk about this."
She ignored his request.
"Kara, please, sit."
She sat. She picked up her cup and hid behind it. "I don't know. I don't really have any fantasies. What are yours?"
"Right now? That would have to be for you to enjoy sex with me."
"I do."
"You do what?"
"Enjoy sex. With you. We had sex like three times last week and once already this week."
"No you don't. You just endure it."
She mumbled into her cup. "Well it is kind o' the same every time."
Clark leaned back and crossed his arms. His lips twitched as though he were suppressing a grin. "It wouldn't have to be the same every time if you'd just tell me your fantasies."
Kara's cup banged down onto the table harder than she'd intended. Coffee sloshed over the rim. "It would be nice if I could just let go and enjoy it. But how can I?
"I'm always wondering if this is the time I'm going to get pregnant and how we are going to pay for that when we can't afford our mortgage? Or what my mom is doing with that new boyfriend of hers or how dad is just doing. To top it off, I always end up bruised somewhere." She rubbed the crown of her head.
Clark leaned forward and put his palm over her trembling hand. She scrubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse.
"Kara, it's okay. Don't cry, baby. I - I wasn't trying to upset you I just — I — Kara, this is hard for me too."
She sniffed.
"How?" There was a note of derision in her voice.
"I'm sorry. We can talk about this later, if you like."
"I want, I want, I want to have no choice."
Clark drew back. "You mean like rape?"
"No! Not like rape. I mean like, like I have no choice but to enjoy it. Like we are the only people in the world. Like there is nothing. Nothing but you and me. Nothing but you loving me. Even when I want it, something interrupts."
"I see."
"No, you don't see. How could you? You always come."
Clark chuckled. "That's because you are so hot."
Kara shot to her feet. Her chair toppled. Clark caught her hand to prevent her from leaving. She scowled at him.
"Let go!"
"No."
"You're going to be late."
"I've got ten minutes."
Her small breasts heaved. Her breath hissed past her jutting lip and fluttered her bangs. She righted her chair and sat back down.
"Okay, Clark, what do you want?"
"I want to help you."
"Clark," she growled.
"Okay, if I can make it so all you can think about is the sex, will you do it?"
"And how are you going to do that?"
"I've got this MP3. It's about an hour long. I want you to listen to it tonight while we have sex."
"Clark, we had sex last night!"
"Okay, tomorrow night." She frowned at him. "Or the night after, or, whenever the next time we do it is."
"What do my ears have to do with sex?" She blushed. She knew exactly what her ears had to do with sex. Clark, however, seemed to have forgotten. He hadn't nipped them for at least six months; pretty much since the honeymoon.
When they were engaged, a gentle nibble on her earlobe, at the right time, was Clark's key to getting her out of her pants. She'd thrashed on his shaft the first time after their wedding when he'd bitten her ear. She'd also screamed.
He'd thought he'd hurt her.
"It'll isolate you." He poked her forehead. "It'll block out invading thoughts. It might just inspire a few more appropriate to the moment."
She stared at him. He stared back, his brow furrowed and his head kind of wiggled. Her lips quirked into a half smile.
She stuck out her tongue and looked away. "Okay, we can do it tonight, but only tonight."
"Why only tonight? What if it works?"
"If it works, we'll see."
"Good—uh—now—got t' go. Goin' t' be late for work."
"Told y'!"
"I know," Clark called just as the door banded shut.
That night she stepped out of the master-bath in her flannel pajamas. The dreamy look on Clark's face slipped.
"Uh, what about?"
She shot him an innocent smile. "It's cold? They're comfy? It's not supposed to be easy?"
The smile returned to Clark's face. If she didn't know better she'd have said there was a slight spring in his step as he left to brush his teeth.
Kara slipped into bed. She slid down until her heels rested on the toe-board of their California King. She bent her head back to look at the headboard. It was still too close.
Her height had deprived her of many potential dates before she'd been married. She'd met Clark her freshman year of college. He'd been the first boy man enough to get into her pants.
They'd been at a summer frat party. She'd just finished her last final of sophomore year at college. The drunk sorority girls had been skinny dipping. Clark had thrown her in with them. In the water fight that followed they'd both lost their clothes. Since they'd been making out all night no one seemed to notice when she wrapped herself about him yet again. He'd plugged her for the very first time.
She hadn't come in the pool. She had five times, later that night, while dreaming of it while she'd played with Princess Sofia, her pink vibrator. That night had been the hottest night of her life.
Not so the rash that had followed.
The bed moved. He eyes snapped open. Clark leaned over and kissed her.
"Hi." He waved the MP3 player and earbuds at her.
"Hi." She shot him a toothy grin. She pulled the blankets up to her throat.
"Okay playful. I suppose I have to do everything." He fumbled an earbuds into her closest ear. She didn't turn her head to help him with the other until he growled at her. His fingers on her lobes sent little shivers down her spine.
"Okay," he said, "I'm going t' turn it on. It needs to be loud enough it's all you can hear but not so loud it hurts your ears. If it's too loud, tell me." He turned it on, found the file he wanted and hit play.
For the first many heartbeats there was nothing. No static. No sound. She arched an eyebrow at her husband. Then a symphony of violins gently crescendoed. It grew louder and louder until it was all she could hear. She loved violins. She smiled and settled her head back.
Clark eased down beside her. She stiffened, expecting his hand to snake in under here defenses. Nothing happened. She watched Clark watch her. The violins played on.
A New Beginning - Marriage is great, but it could be better in bed
Re: A New Beginning - Marriage is great, but it could be better in bed
Her tension drained. Clark hadn't moved. Her eyes grew tired. She closed them. The music moved over, under and through her. She drifted back and forth on it. It had been forever since she'd just listened to good symphonic music.
Something intruded; gentle, soft, far in the background. It was a man's voice, maybe Clark's voice, rising and falling in a gentle cadence. It was pleasant, mesmerizing. She strained to make out the words.
Another sound wove itself into the all-encompassing music, a low, irregular moan, sometimes a gasp. She became confused. Her mind tried to follow the voice. She listened to the passion. The music flowed through her. Her legs edged a few finger-widths open.
Behind closed eyelids she saw herself in the pool with Clark again. She saw Princess Sofia invading her in her dorm room. She saw her eighteen year old self rubbing up against the horn of her saddle while she rode her horse. She saw that girl turn bright red after she came while astride.
Clark was nibbling on her ear. She was bent over the kitchen table of her parent's house, three weeks before the wedding. She was tearing Princess Sofia out of its packaging. She was riding Clark in the park.
Wait. They'd never done it in the park.
She was stripping for him. He grabbed her during the lap dance. She was running herself up his leg.
It was an orgy. A thousand moans invaded her soul. Five hundred Kara's being licked, sucked, plugged by Clark or Princess Sofia, sometimes both.
She felt a fluttering in her breast, like when she got that first crush on Fred Johnson in college. The fluttering slowly filled her. It grew slower, heavier. It sank lower. Leaden wings gathered between her thighs. They burnt with a bright fire that turned into a warm glow. With every imagined thrust of her man or her toy the warmth grew higher and hotter until it slowly suffused her.
Kara's eyes snapped open. A button from her pajamas caught on the swollen peak of her right breast. Clark slid his hand into the now unbuttoned garment. He gently thumbed her painfully erect nipple.
Her bosom heaved. Her mouth sagged open. Her soul seemed to flood from her lake-blue eyes to sink into Clark's rich, walnut-brown ones.
Clark leaned in for a kiss. He thrumbed her nipple like a low, slow, cord on a guitar. She moaned into his mouth. It was almost too much and she ground her ass into the bed.
Clark broke the kiss. He held her eyes. His thumb left her tormented breast and his fingers slowly crawled down her belly. She trembled and then fell open for him, helplessly waiting.
He didn't invade. His fingers trailed down her leg and then up the inside of her thigh. His thumb trailed under the waistband of her flannel pants.
Kara looked pointedly at her husband. "I'm as hot as I'm going to get. Foreplay's over. You keep teasing, you might miss out." She could barely hear her own words over the music.
Clark wasted no time. He grabbed the seat of her pajamas and pulled. She wiggled her ass helping him get them down to her knees. Their eyes broke contact. Kara felt a stab of regret that she'd worn them. It was immediately replaced by a violent shiver that traveled from his fingers on the inside of her thigh, right into her center and up her spine. She gasped, arched her back and half turned away from him.
She rolled back towards him and reached for him. She tried to pull him in close, but apparently, he'd had enough torment too. He tore her pajama pants the rest of the way off. Her plain Jane's followed. He positioned himself. He was like a white rod of iron poised to enter her furnace.
Their eyes met. A heartbeat passed. He stabbed her.
Every muscle in Kara's body clutched. It was like the first time, no the best time, only ten times better. Her spine arced. Head, shoulders and neck formed a smooth span. Her grunt joined the orgy chorus in her ears.
Her muscles loosened. Kara wrapped her arms and legs about her lover. She held for several hammering heartbeats until the invading heat between her thighs drained her strength. She fell back to the bed, limp, her legs completely open.
Mere heartbeats later, Kara convulsed about her husband's manhood once more. Her hands opened and closed and opened again as though seeking some sort of anchor in the sheets. Her head lulled.
When it was over she curled up against Clark's broad curl covered chest. He pulled the dislodged comforter back over them.
When the alarm went off, they were still naked.
"Oh, yuk!" Kara said. She sat up and flinched. Their passions had dried. Some of the crusties pinched in her tenderest places. She half ran half tiptoed to the shower.
From there the morning preceded much as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. Once again, it took its first turn during coffee. Clark was pouring his second cup when he looked over his shoulder right at her.
"So, how was it?"
Kara didn't manage to raise her cup fast enough to hide the roseate tide that flooded her face.
"Good."
"You want to do it again?"
Kara's lips twerked into a slight smile. "Not right now."
Clark's head dropped and he shot her a heavy look from under his brow.
Kara giggled.
"Is that a yes?"
"Maybe."
"Girls."
"Boys."
"Women!"
"Men!"
"Kara."
"Clark."
They both laughed at their old game. It had been forever since they'd played it.
"Oh crap!" Clark said, banging down his cup. "Look at the time!"
"Oops."
"Oops, yah! Two days in a row." He grabbed his coat, leapt to her side, gave her a quick peck and raced for the door.
"Well think how I feel, banged two days in a row."
"We'll make it three!"
"No."
"Yes!" He slammed the door. She smiled and shook her head.
No, it's definitely no. She got up to go to work.
For such a small house it required a lot of attention. There was laundry, again. She vacuumed. She fixed the plumbing under the sink. Their frig was empty, which meant shopping. Haul the garbage out in the rain. Bills.
As the morning wore on she started to wonder if there wasn't something to her complaint about being banged two days in a row. Clark could ram quite hard.
It wasn't that she felt bruised. Nor did she even really feel tender. She was just aware.
In the grocery store she found herself noting the feel of her bikini briefs. She even felt the delicate pull of her curls as she walked. Kara blushed when she realized it. She the gentle pink turned to a hot red when she saw an older man looking at her.
It was worse at home. While vacuuming she had to adjust her pants twice to avoid making love to the seam that rubbed her wrong, or perhaps, she admitted, just right. Under the sink she wondered how her ass might look sticking up in the air.
I - I can't stop thinking about it. She plopped down. The sun had briefly broken free of the rainclouds. It showered her favorite easy chair. She leaned back and kicked up her heels.
It had been a busy morning. She had skipped lunch. She deserved a break. She closed her eyes for a quick nap.
Kara jerked up. The feeling of Clark between her legs faded. She hadn't even been asleep.
I have got to do something about this.
Her meager bosom heaved as she climbed unsteadily to her feet. With growing determination she marched to the bedroom.
It took a half hour to find the MP3 player. Clark hadn't exactly hidden it, but it wasn't in the open either.
Kara headed back to her chair. She popped the earbuds in and started the music. This time, without the distraction of sex, she'd figure out what the words were saying.
The violins were beautiful. They flooded her head. The music moved through her. They caressed every inch. The mumblings spoke to her soul. She still couldn't understand them. The moaning never interrupted.
Kara blinked herself awake. The music had come to a close. She felt comfortably pleasant. She started to stretch.
Kara's left wrist caught against the band of her pants. Her hand was trapped against her sex in much the same manner as she'd caught her husband, father and even three brothers so many times. They had been scratching themselves. She had been doing something more.
She ripped her fingers from her pants. They were slightly damp.
Oh, wow.
Something surged in Kara's core. She pressed her legs together. The eager burning wouldn't go away. She snarled, jumped to her feet and ran to the master bathroom.
She hadn't played with Princess Sofia since well before the wedding. She found her abandoned playmate in the bottom draw amongst old curling irons and her spare blow-drier. She twisted its base.
Nothing happened.
Batteries, need batteries. The burning chose that moment to turn into a deeper ach. Oh gawd, never mind.
Kara dropped the pink Princess upon the counter. She rooted out the K-Y and fumbled her pants half way down her thighs. A violent shiver wracked her slender frame as she picked up her old playmate again.
With her pants about her knees, Kara was unable to splay her thighs. It made a tight fit for Princess Sofia. Every push, every nudge forced Kara up on her tippy toes. She fell further and further forward until she was lay breast down on the bathroom counter, her head knocking against the mirror. Dislodged toiletries rattled to the floor.
Bent double, Kara pushed the long toy in until she felt that slightly nauseating pressure in her center. She pulled the pink toy half way out and pushed in again, judging the proper depth by when her fingers tickled her ass. She convulsed about the shaft of her old friend.
Kara feared it wasn't enough. Sofia was smooth and slender, a true princess. Without the vibrations, or the heat of her man's member, Kara could barely feel the invasion.
Regardless, Kara's need grew. Her toy might not have been increasing her lust but it was plugging it up and preventing it from leaking out.
She writhed upon the counter. Kara grew frustrated with the crescendo that was just out of reach, yet was unwilling to stop to find the batteries that would bring her over the edge.
The garage door clacked.
"Kara, I'm home!"
Kara's whole body jerked. She banged her head into the mirror. Her trembling increased. She was wound up like a winch that couldn't wind up even one more ratchet but couldn't slip backwards either.
Something intruded; gentle, soft, far in the background. It was a man's voice, maybe Clark's voice, rising and falling in a gentle cadence. It was pleasant, mesmerizing. She strained to make out the words.
Another sound wove itself into the all-encompassing music, a low, irregular moan, sometimes a gasp. She became confused. Her mind tried to follow the voice. She listened to the passion. The music flowed through her. Her legs edged a few finger-widths open.
Behind closed eyelids she saw herself in the pool with Clark again. She saw Princess Sofia invading her in her dorm room. She saw her eighteen year old self rubbing up against the horn of her saddle while she rode her horse. She saw that girl turn bright red after she came while astride.
Clark was nibbling on her ear. She was bent over the kitchen table of her parent's house, three weeks before the wedding. She was tearing Princess Sofia out of its packaging. She was riding Clark in the park.
Wait. They'd never done it in the park.
She was stripping for him. He grabbed her during the lap dance. She was running herself up his leg.
It was an orgy. A thousand moans invaded her soul. Five hundred Kara's being licked, sucked, plugged by Clark or Princess Sofia, sometimes both.
She felt a fluttering in her breast, like when she got that first crush on Fred Johnson in college. The fluttering slowly filled her. It grew slower, heavier. It sank lower. Leaden wings gathered between her thighs. They burnt with a bright fire that turned into a warm glow. With every imagined thrust of her man or her toy the warmth grew higher and hotter until it slowly suffused her.
Kara's eyes snapped open. A button from her pajamas caught on the swollen peak of her right breast. Clark slid his hand into the now unbuttoned garment. He gently thumbed her painfully erect nipple.
Her bosom heaved. Her mouth sagged open. Her soul seemed to flood from her lake-blue eyes to sink into Clark's rich, walnut-brown ones.
Clark leaned in for a kiss. He thrumbed her nipple like a low, slow, cord on a guitar. She moaned into his mouth. It was almost too much and she ground her ass into the bed.
Clark broke the kiss. He held her eyes. His thumb left her tormented breast and his fingers slowly crawled down her belly. She trembled and then fell open for him, helplessly waiting.
He didn't invade. His fingers trailed down her leg and then up the inside of her thigh. His thumb trailed under the waistband of her flannel pants.
Kara looked pointedly at her husband. "I'm as hot as I'm going to get. Foreplay's over. You keep teasing, you might miss out." She could barely hear her own words over the music.
Clark wasted no time. He grabbed the seat of her pajamas and pulled. She wiggled her ass helping him get them down to her knees. Their eyes broke contact. Kara felt a stab of regret that she'd worn them. It was immediately replaced by a violent shiver that traveled from his fingers on the inside of her thigh, right into her center and up her spine. She gasped, arched her back and half turned away from him.
She rolled back towards him and reached for him. She tried to pull him in close, but apparently, he'd had enough torment too. He tore her pajama pants the rest of the way off. Her plain Jane's followed. He positioned himself. He was like a white rod of iron poised to enter her furnace.
Their eyes met. A heartbeat passed. He stabbed her.
Every muscle in Kara's body clutched. It was like the first time, no the best time, only ten times better. Her spine arced. Head, shoulders and neck formed a smooth span. Her grunt joined the orgy chorus in her ears.
Her muscles loosened. Kara wrapped her arms and legs about her lover. She held for several hammering heartbeats until the invading heat between her thighs drained her strength. She fell back to the bed, limp, her legs completely open.
Mere heartbeats later, Kara convulsed about her husband's manhood once more. Her hands opened and closed and opened again as though seeking some sort of anchor in the sheets. Her head lulled.
When it was over she curled up against Clark's broad curl covered chest. He pulled the dislodged comforter back over them.
When the alarm went off, they were still naked.
"Oh, yuk!" Kara said. She sat up and flinched. Their passions had dried. Some of the crusties pinched in her tenderest places. She half ran half tiptoed to the shower.
From there the morning preceded much as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. Once again, it took its first turn during coffee. Clark was pouring his second cup when he looked over his shoulder right at her.
"So, how was it?"
Kara didn't manage to raise her cup fast enough to hide the roseate tide that flooded her face.
"Good."
"You want to do it again?"
Kara's lips twerked into a slight smile. "Not right now."
Clark's head dropped and he shot her a heavy look from under his brow.
Kara giggled.
"Is that a yes?"
"Maybe."
"Girls."
"Boys."
"Women!"
"Men!"
"Kara."
"Clark."
They both laughed at their old game. It had been forever since they'd played it.
"Oh crap!" Clark said, banging down his cup. "Look at the time!"
"Oops."
"Oops, yah! Two days in a row." He grabbed his coat, leapt to her side, gave her a quick peck and raced for the door.
"Well think how I feel, banged two days in a row."
"We'll make it three!"
"No."
"Yes!" He slammed the door. She smiled and shook her head.
No, it's definitely no. She got up to go to work.
For such a small house it required a lot of attention. There was laundry, again. She vacuumed. She fixed the plumbing under the sink. Their frig was empty, which meant shopping. Haul the garbage out in the rain. Bills.
As the morning wore on she started to wonder if there wasn't something to her complaint about being banged two days in a row. Clark could ram quite hard.
It wasn't that she felt bruised. Nor did she even really feel tender. She was just aware.
In the grocery store she found herself noting the feel of her bikini briefs. She even felt the delicate pull of her curls as she walked. Kara blushed when she realized it. She the gentle pink turned to a hot red when she saw an older man looking at her.
It was worse at home. While vacuuming she had to adjust her pants twice to avoid making love to the seam that rubbed her wrong, or perhaps, she admitted, just right. Under the sink she wondered how her ass might look sticking up in the air.
I - I can't stop thinking about it. She plopped down. The sun had briefly broken free of the rainclouds. It showered her favorite easy chair. She leaned back and kicked up her heels.
It had been a busy morning. She had skipped lunch. She deserved a break. She closed her eyes for a quick nap.
Kara jerked up. The feeling of Clark between her legs faded. She hadn't even been asleep.
I have got to do something about this.
Her meager bosom heaved as she climbed unsteadily to her feet. With growing determination she marched to the bedroom.
It took a half hour to find the MP3 player. Clark hadn't exactly hidden it, but it wasn't in the open either.
Kara headed back to her chair. She popped the earbuds in and started the music. This time, without the distraction of sex, she'd figure out what the words were saying.
The violins were beautiful. They flooded her head. The music moved through her. They caressed every inch. The mumblings spoke to her soul. She still couldn't understand them. The moaning never interrupted.
Kara blinked herself awake. The music had come to a close. She felt comfortably pleasant. She started to stretch.
Kara's left wrist caught against the band of her pants. Her hand was trapped against her sex in much the same manner as she'd caught her husband, father and even three brothers so many times. They had been scratching themselves. She had been doing something more.
She ripped her fingers from her pants. They were slightly damp.
Oh, wow.
Something surged in Kara's core. She pressed her legs together. The eager burning wouldn't go away. She snarled, jumped to her feet and ran to the master bathroom.
She hadn't played with Princess Sofia since well before the wedding. She found her abandoned playmate in the bottom draw amongst old curling irons and her spare blow-drier. She twisted its base.
Nothing happened.
Batteries, need batteries. The burning chose that moment to turn into a deeper ach. Oh gawd, never mind.
Kara dropped the pink Princess upon the counter. She rooted out the K-Y and fumbled her pants half way down her thighs. A violent shiver wracked her slender frame as she picked up her old playmate again.
With her pants about her knees, Kara was unable to splay her thighs. It made a tight fit for Princess Sofia. Every push, every nudge forced Kara up on her tippy toes. She fell further and further forward until she was lay breast down on the bathroom counter, her head knocking against the mirror. Dislodged toiletries rattled to the floor.
Bent double, Kara pushed the long toy in until she felt that slightly nauseating pressure in her center. She pulled the pink toy half way out and pushed in again, judging the proper depth by when her fingers tickled her ass. She convulsed about the shaft of her old friend.
Kara feared it wasn't enough. Sofia was smooth and slender, a true princess. Without the vibrations, or the heat of her man's member, Kara could barely feel the invasion.
Regardless, Kara's need grew. Her toy might not have been increasing her lust but it was plugging it up and preventing it from leaking out.
She writhed upon the counter. Kara grew frustrated with the crescendo that was just out of reach, yet was unwilling to stop to find the batteries that would bring her over the edge.
The garage door clacked.
"Kara, I'm home!"
Kara's whole body jerked. She banged her head into the mirror. Her trembling increased. She was wound up like a winch that couldn't wind up even one more ratchet but couldn't slip backwards either.