“Ooooh, yeeeeeaaaaaahh….” The Bean groans, head tilted back, eyes closed.
In front of us, the hotel tv blares out the jumbled words of a late-night comedian, but neither of us is paying attention.
“Right there?” I whisper softly.
“MMMMMMMMMmmMMM!” He groans loudly in response, and the baby stirs slightly in his swing beside the bed.
“Shhhhh!” I caution, hands still moving.
“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers back. “It just feels so good.”
“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
There’s a small pause, and then the relative quiet of the room is broken again with another moan.
“OH, YEAH, Becky… YEAH… MMMMmmm!”
I wince at the sudden noise and glance worriedly over at the baby, but this time the Squidgelet doesn’t even stir.
“Mmmmmmm…” The Bean makes another pleased noise, and I take a moment to wonder whether our neighbors can hear us. The hotel is booked solid after all.
Screw it. It’s my anniversary weekend. Neighbors be damned. If they didn’t want to hear us then they should have booked in one of Bakersfield’s better hotels.
“Are you ready?” I run my hands over him, poised.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers back, eyes closed in anticipation.
“MMMmmmm!” The Bean groans again, lips curving into a smile as I finish cracking one of his toes.
“That was a good one!” I give his foot a small rub, then move onto his right foot. “Ready?” My fingers hover over his pinky toe, ready to pull.
“YEAH, baby. I’m ready. Do it!”
“Wow! MMmmmm. Crack the next toe!” he begs, wiggling his foot enticingly.
Hey, maybe they don’t make dirty movies about moments in marriage such as this, but it’s the little things that keep a relationship alive. Mawwiage. That bwessed awangement. That dweam, within a dweam….
Two babies. Three years. Forty bazillion toe crackings and “Bean, do you know where I put my cell phone?“s later, life is good.