Page 63 of Bringing Home the Bacon
“This will be fast,” he warns.
“That’s really our only option right now, sir.”
“Still love when you call me ‘sir,’” he says as he begins to thrust.
“Sir, Chef, Daddy… I’ll call you whatever you want. Just keep fucking me.”
The next few minutes are a blur of stifled moans and muffled cries as we chase our pleasure while simultaneously trying to avoid announcing the adult activities occurring in our exam room. Surely, this medical practice knows what got us into this position in the first place, but I doubt they’d appreciate us performing those activities in their place of business.
But right now, I can’t bring myself to care.
“I’m close,” I whisper. “So close.”
“God, I love you, Colleen. I can’t get close enough.”
That’s all it takes for us both to soar into the stratosphere.
A moment later, we lie tangled up in each other on a paper sheet.
“That. Was. Incredible.” Bacon says, trying to catch his breath and failing.
Right as I’m about to say, “We really should get out of here,” a light knock sounds on the door.
It’s Melinda. “Seems I was wrong! Climaxes were doled out at this doctor’s appointment after all. Ha ha. But, um, seriously, if you two are finished, we could really use this room for our next patient.”
The whole office heard everything.
I should be embarrassed.
Humiliated even.
But for the first time in my life, I don’t care what people think about me. I’m happy.
Like Bacon said, “Let them talk.”
Chapter 20
Bacon
It’s been six weeks since our first doctor’s appointment. I’m walking down the halls of Fork Lick Elementary with two things in my hands: the keys to our new home/restaurant and flowers for the girl of my dreams.
I’m starting to think that maybe life doesn’t have to be so hard. I can see something, want something, and get it. I can meet an incredible woman, fall in love with her, and create a family with her. I can have the life I’ve always imagined.
It’s the end of Colleen’s workday, so I thought I’d surprise her with a visit. I was perfectly happy to wait in the school lobby for her, but the vice principal kindly ushered me to her classroom so I could greet her at her door.
She’s finishing story time with her kindergarteners when I arrive. Not wanting to disturb her lesson or distract the kids, I stay in the hall and peek just past the open doorframe.
“Who can tell me the moral of the story we just read?” she asks sweetly. “Remember yesterday we talked about what a moral is? A moral is…”
“A lesson we can learn from a story,” the kids answer in singsong unison.
“That’s exactly right. What can we learn from Penguin Problems by Jory John? Yes. Jayden.”
A boy with freckles and red hair answers, “Well, at first, the penguin was not happy. He was mad about all his problems. Like his beak was too cold, and the ocean was too wet, and all the penguins looked exactly the same, and no one knew who their parents were, and the sea creatures were always trying to eat him.”
“That’s true. He was only focused on the hard things in his life. But then what happened?” Colleen prompts. “Yes. Amaya.”
A little girl with a jeweled bonnet says, “Well, he almost got eaten like a hundred times, but then he met this super nice walrus who speaks really fancy, and the walrus helps him see how beautiful the world is and how he’s actually very lucky to be a penguin.”
