MOANING & MOURNING

It wasn’t the fault of the sex-starved wife but rather of her dull husband – who had a no-nonsense attitude; neither into games nor foreplay

His erratic behaviour and obsession escalated and umpteen times he suspected his missus of infidelity even without a modicum of evidence.

His obnoxious loudness amplified his insecurities.

Eventually, his mediocre investigations “paid off” one fateful Thursday after receiving intelligence from a busybody-hence dashed home earlier than usual amidst incessant rain that got him drenched from head to toe.

“Aaaaaah…stoooop !” Katharine moaned. “Relax, I’ll be gentle…”responded a man in a deep hoarse voice. All along ,an overly-protective husband who had crept discreetly through the living room eavesdropped to a heart-piercing dialogue that ensued for the better part of quarter an hour, from the cozy confines of his bedroom.
Jealous quadrupled and anger levels tripled inside his robust chest. His boiling point was evident on the veins of his neck that bulged and pulsated with rage. That being said , a horrendous outcome was looming, worse than atomic bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima

Underneath a carpet was a Samurai sword that he withdrew before advancing towards the two like a deranged man. A second thought was scarce in his brain, Alas, he swung his crude weapon twice at his victim. It was a barbaric bloody scene that left Dr. Salo with a dangling pound of flesh. He tried to fight back but was met with a solid uppercut, one that would make a delinquent teen suffer from dementia on the spot. What an irreparable damage!

The gentleman’s stained white coat flung open as he lurched backwards with his surgical gloves intact. Katherine, whose big thighs had spilled over the sides of her chair screamed hysterically like a brand new siren. It was almost surreal. A clinical doctor lost his dear life at the expense of someone’s wife while performing incision and drainage to an itchy boil that was located close to Katharine’s genitalia. A boil that had restricted her locomotion, hence opted for a home visit.

That afternoon, Innocent moans served as recipe for a bitter mourning.

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