She moaned as the first wave swept over her. Jim thrust more rapidly, his moment approaching, and filled her as her second orgasm spun the bed around,...or so it seemed to her. Jim lay on her a minute, then rolled onto his back with Ora under his arm, smiling. ‘Momma?’ chirped a tiny voice from behind a creaking door. Jim and Ora both smiled, first at each other, then at the curly haired toddler clad in a night shirt made from a soft flour sack and carrying a rag doll made from another flour. ‘She’s not being kept against her will, or anything like that. No,’ she shook her head, waving her hand dismissively, ‘no, nothing like that, don’t you worry. She wants to be there, you’ll see when you talk to her. She wants to be there.’ ‘She wants to be there. Not here, with me.’ He turned his head, resisting again. She leaned in closer, speaking softly, more urgently. ‘Tommy, honey, don’t you even think that way. She loves you, you know that. And you love her, or you wouldn’t be so worried. More

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