Saturday with the Family and Music

It is just another Saturday morning. Before you start running errands and go shopping with the family, its “Saturday Morning Chores”. Something you and your wife agreed to when you first got married, during the week keep the place clean and orderly, and on Saturdays, do the hard cleaning; bathrooms, floors, laundry, and anything that you don’t need to do daily. When you were first married, the little apartment you shared was easy to clean, and you put on music to help keep the mood up.

That was a decade ago. Two kids later and a house in the suburbs, you still start off Saturday morning doing chores. The kids are getting to a point where they can help a bit now. So as they are putting their cereal bowls in the sink, you start cleaning the bathroom. Your wife puts a load of laundry in the washer and then cleans the kitchen. As you are bleaching the toilet and wiping down the faucets you hear her turn on music. The kids cheer and you hear them putting away toys and books as they sing along.

Before the kids were born, your wife might have picked something a little sultrier and more sensuous, but she picked one of the Postmodern Jukebox albums. You laugh to yourself at that. They kids love them because the tempos are “so old time”, and they like to dance as they clean. The lyrics of some of the songs are very sexy, but the kids never notice.

As you scrub the sink you hear “Listen Girl, I’m not like all these other fella’s” as Wayne Brady sings his version of “Thriller”. A Cab Calloway style take on the old MJ hit. Your kids are clapping and singing with it. As you finish the sink and move to the tub, you are moving your hips in tempo and singing.

Soon the song switches to “Bad At Love” performed by Amber Eyes. A “runaway bride Jazz”-style cover. You go to the kitchen to get the mop, and see your wife swaying back and forth as she wipes down the cupboards. You place your hands on her hips for a moment and sing along and then whisper in her ear, “You’re not bad at anything my love.” Then you kiss her cheek and take the mop into the bathroom.

“Daddy, can I vacuum?” your son asks. “All our toys are up. I’m big enough to do it.” You set the mop down and look at the living room. Everything is off the floor.

“Ok, do you know how to do it?” you ask as he plugs it in. He pushes the handle release and then the power button.

“Yep. Mommy showed me.” He says with a grin.

“Ok, ask if you need help.” You say as you go back to do the bathroom floor.

“Daddy, can I help mop?” your daughter asks, standing by the bathroom door.

“No baby, but have you dusted in the living room?”

“I’ll get the swizzer and do a good job.” She says heading for the mop closet. You hear “Crazy Train” by Jennie Lena and think “Yes this place is a crazy train.”

When you finish the bathroom, you rinse the mop and bring it back to the kitchen for your wife to use. 

You hear yelling from the living room. “Daddy told me to use the swizzer to dust!”

“I got to finish vacuuming first. It’s a Swiffer not a swizzer, dummy.”

“Mommy said don’t call names.”

“Don’t be a dummy and I won’t.”

“That’s enough! What’s going on?” you yell.

They both stop, as the music “Million Reasons” keeps playing.

“He started it.” Your daughter says angrily pointing the dust mop at your son.

“Uh-uh. You started it. I was vacuuming and you started dusting where I vacuumed.” He says defensively.

“He called me a dummy.” She starts to respond.

“Stop! Both of you.” You sigh for a second, and then look at your son. “You are the older one. You know better than calling your sister names. Are you done in here?”

He lowers his head, “Yes, Daddy I am.”

“Ok. Apologize to your sister and put the vacuum away.” Then you turn to your daughter. “Did you finish dusting?”

“Uh-uh Daddy, he wouldn’t let me.” She says, her head bouncing in tempo to “Despacito”.

“Ok, Baby, finish dusting and then go to your room.” You say, without realizing that you are also moving in tempo with the song.

You look in the kitchen and all that is left is for you to mop it. Your wife must be down in the laundry room. You mop slowly swaying in tempo to Kenton Chen singing a torch song version of “Look What You Made Me Do”.

As you finish you hear a wolf whistle from behind you. “Yeah, Shake your money maker.” You hear your wife say. She has the laundry basket in her hands. You move in an exaggerated motion, using the mop like a dance pole, for a second.

“Do you need help folding those?” you ask.

“Sure. Finish up and join me in the bedroom.” She says with a smile.

After hanging up the mop, you wipe your hands clean and go the bedroom. “And… We… Can’t… Stop…” you hear the opening strains of the acapella version of “We Can’t Stop”. Your wife is singing along as she sits on the bed folding clothing. 

“And…We….Won’t…Stop.” you respond as you help fold. Both of you are happily singing along as you get to “This is our house….this is our room…”

The kids quietly walk in, humming as you both are singing loudly. They take clothes from the basket. Your son folds his socks and underwear. Your daughter hands you one of your wife’s bras, which you take still singing “We own the night…” and hand it to your wife. When the song ends the basket is empty and there are four piles of clothes.

The kids take theirs and put them away.

Your wife leans in and kisses you. “If they weren’t here right now, I would show how much I want you right now.”

You hug and kiss her. “Maybe later, Love.”

With all of the chores done, you all load up and run errands. There are a couple of stores you have to stop at and get things for the week. Your wife reminds you to go to the craft store for things the kids need for their end of the school year projects. You nod, thinking “Glitter, glue, construction paper, crayons, markers, and everything that makes a mess.”

Then to the grocery store to stock up for the week. Juice boxes, pounds of ground beef, macaroni, and of course more of those stupid frozen nuggets. The kids point and squeal, “Daddy, the dino shaped ones!”

But you grab the family sized bag of the regular ones, because they are on sale. The kids make an “Awwww” sound, but your wife says, “Maybe next time, if you are really good.” Which brightens them up.

As you fill up the back of the car, your son points out that the Ice cream shop at the end of the block opened up. You look where he is pointing and see waving flags reading “Season Opening” and “Welcome Back”.

Your daughter grabs your pants leg, “Daddy, Please. We helped real good today. Ice cream.”

Your wife smiles as she closes the back of the car and grabs the empty cart. “Take them and I’ll follow in a minute.”

You take your son in one hand and your daughter in the other and walk down the block. “I scream….You scream…. We all scream… for Ice Cream.” You all laugh and sing.

Inside, it is just like last year, lots of bright colors and a dozen or so flavors. Your son begs for a bowl, but you tell him that you are just getting cones for everyone today. He nods and quickly says “Chocolate” Your daughter says “Cookie Dough”, your wife walks up behind you, placing a hand on your ass. “I think I want Rum Raisin.” You look at the list of flavors, “I don’t see it, Dear, You’ll have to pick something else.” You think back for a minute, something about when your daughter was conceived, both of you were eating rum raisin on the living room couch and you went from eating ice cream to eating each other. “They have Black Cherry, or Mint Chocolate chip” you comment.

“If I get the Black Cherry, will you get the mint? Then we can have a lick of each other’s.” She winks and smiles. Yes, she is in one of those moods.

On the drive home, the kids happily lick their cones and drip ice cream all over the back seat. You knew it would happen, which is why you will wipe it all up when you get home.

Your wife holds both cones as you drive. She puts one to your mouth to lick, and then the other. At a stop light, you look over at her as she is seductively licking around the tip of each one.

“Are you enjoying them?” you ask playfully.

“That’s not fair, Mommy is eating Daddy’s ice cream.”

“It’s okay. We are sharing. See.” Your wife says as she holds a cone to your mouth again.

“There are times I am glad I don’t have a ‘vanilla’ wife.” You say in a soft tone.

“If I can get the kids down for a nap, I’ll show you.” She responds.

Once you are home, everyone helps carry in groceries, then you wipe down the back seat and the kids’ car seats, to keep things from getting sticky.

When you walk in, your wife is washing the kids’ hands and telling them to put a movie on in the living room. You head straight for the living room and pick a Disney film. You know that if you let them pick, they will fight and argue but if you have one already selected, they will sit quietly and watch. They sit down on their cushions. You hear microwave popcorn popping and then your wife comes out with two small bowls and two juice boxes.

“Thank you, Mommy,” your daughter says. “Yes, Thanks Mommy” your son replies, never taking his eyes off of the animated characters.

Quietly you both head out of the room and creep to your bedroom. Silently you close the door and lock it. She kisses you. You taste both flavors of ice cream on her.

“I thought we were going to wait until bedtime?” you ask.

She takes off her t-shirt and bra. “Maybe you want to wait, but I want you now.”

Her nipples are so beautiful and perky. Perfect for sucking on, but she isn’t waiting for that as she strips off her jeans and panties. She backs up onto the bed, pulling you along.

“We are going to have to be quiet.” You say as she sits on the edge of the bed, her legs spread open.

“I think I have a better use for your mouth, than listening to you talk.” She says as she pushes you onto your knees and pulls your face between her legs. You smell her excitement. Gripping her hips, you slowly kiss the inside of her right thigh. Slowly, softly, kissing your way inside her thigh, moving closer to her damp pussy.

“You are teasing me.” She whispers, “That’s not fair.”

“I’m being quiet.” You respond and use the tip of your tongue around her damp lips. Then you have a wicked idea. You put your mouth over her clit, and hum “We Can’t Stop”.

She grabs handfuls of your hair. “Damn that feels good.”

You shift your hands so you grip her ass and alternate humming and licking. She starts quietly singing along, but she changes some of the words, “It’s my body, we can do what we want…. It’s my body we can say what we want….It’s my body, we can love who we want……we can kiss who we want, we can live how we want.”

You stop licking for a second and whisper. “I like that.”

She is so wet and tasty. She was probably distracting herself to keep from cuming too quickly. “Stand up…I want to see how hard you are.” She whispers back.

You do, unbuttoning your jeans, pulling out your mostly hard dick. “Is that good enough for you?” you whisper.

She leans forward, licks the tip and then takes it in her mouth. She starts humming where she left off with the song. The vibrations move through you and you put your hands on her head. “La da di daddy..I like to party…We’ll do whatever we want….This is our house, this is our room…” You try to quietly sing. She grips your shaft and balls. She sucks you firmly for a moment. “Damn, do you want me to cum in your mouth or your sweet cunt?”

She stops sucking. “Fuck me now.” She says in a low growl.

She lies back as you lift her bent legs and rub your tip along her very wet and open lips. You thrust into her, gliding in so easily. Between her excitement and saliva on your cock, she is ready for you. Normally you would take your time, but you remember that the kids are only watching a movie, so you go fast, hard, and deep. She bites her lower lip as she grips a nipple with one hand and uses the other to rub her clit.

“She won’t last long.” You think as you grip her tighter and fuck her harder. You are breathing harder, but you keep your mouth closed tightly to try not to make noises.

You feel her pussy tighten around you as she orgasms, stifling her noises by putting a hand to her mouth.

“Yes, cum for me my love.” You say in a loud whisper, as you thrust and hold it. Your cock spasms inside of her, filling her with your hot jizz. You are both sweating a bit.

“Join me in a quick shower.” She says as you slide your softening member from her.

“Good idea, It gives an excuse why we are naked.” You respond as you grab bathrobes for both of you from the hooks on the back of the door.

Barefoot, you both quietly leave the bedroom and peek in on the kids. They are still watching the movie, but it is close to the end.

“Mommy and I are going to shower. You enjoy the movie.”

They both make a distracted “Uh-hu” sound.

Your wife starts the water. “We better make this quick.”

“I agree. Just washing, no shower sex.” You nod.

“This time” she says with a mischievous grin.

“I love Saturday’s like this”. You say as you hand her a washcloth.

(Thank you to Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox for inspiring this story. This was taken from the songs on ‘Jazz Me Outside, Pt. 2’. If you haven’t heard their versions of the songs I described, you really should. If you enjoyed this, leave a comment. If you enjoy my writings, follow and subscribe. See you next week.)