Fiction Sample: Twelve Minutes

Comedy today, just because. Hope you laugh some. -- Love, C.A.

Twelve Minutes

Sweating, on top of Beth, Paul paused and asked, "Don't you like it like this?" He gently kissed her on the mouth.

"I guess, but I like our sex better when I can breathe," Beth answered, coughing. "By the way, can you shave soon? Your whiskers are giving me that chin rash again. Looks like I have a red beard."

"Damn, sorry, but what's wrong with being a pirate?" he said, laughing, slightly moving his body away from her chest. "About your oxygen, I can't help it. I just got carried away."

"I know," Beth said, breathing heavily. "You're gonna kill me. A little Viagra, and you're like the Energizer Bunny man all of a sudden. And I'm sitting here with my hair stuck to my cheek, about to flat line. Well, don't stop, damn it, keep going. The kids will be home in a half hour." She glanced at the wall clock. "Make that twelve minutes," she said.

Again, Paul moved close to her. "Stop ordering me around. I love you."

"Not like that," she said. "Shit, great, now all I can think about are Gino's Pizza Rolls. I love you too."

"Well how? Which way? Like that porn we got? Man, I'm not that flexible," he said, pausing. "And pizza rolls? What the hell? Focus, focus, dear. Why are you thinking about pizza?"

"I dunno, just do something hot, make me forget about pepperoni," Beth said. "You know, they have that commercial where that happy mom is making pizza rolls for all those kids. I feel like I should be like that woman all the time. It's so much pressure. No one could ever make that many pizza rolls at once. I can't live up to that woman."

He kissed her cheek. "You are that woman."

"Maybe do me from behind, yeah," she said, turning over. "Let's try that."

"Oh, we haven't done that in a while," Paul said. "Not sure if..."

"I know, your knees..." Beth said. "Never mind." She rolled over and stretched out on her back.

Beside her, Paul stretched out too.

"Aren't you frustrated?" she asked him.

"It's all right," Paul said. "We can do the side thing tonight, when we have more time."

"You are frustrated."

"Aren't you?" he asked.

"I feel like Jamie Lee Curtis on those yogurt commercials. You know, Activia," Beth said.

"Huh?" Paul laughed.

"Those ones where you're supposed to eat the yogurt so you won't be constipated," Beth explained.

"That's how you feel?" Paul asked.

"Yeah."

"You feel like you ate the yogurt, or you feel like you need to?" he asked, chuckling.

"Like I need to. All stuffed up," she said. "Maybe I should just do it myself."

"Do what? Eat the yogurt?" he asked. "You constipated? Man, I am. Have been for a week. Damn, are you crying?"

"No, I don't think so, but did you have to tell me about your bowel schedule right now?" Beth said, rolling her eyes. "I'm gonna just do it myself." She reached her hand down.

"Oh, yeah, do it," he said. "Go ahead, I'll watch."

"If you watch, I'll get all nervous, and then I won't be able to do it," Beth said in a raised voice.

"Well what do you want me to do?" he asked her.

She brought a hand to her chin, thinking. "I dunno, you could put your hand down there, do that thing. Or you could just go make the kids some of those pizza rolls?"

"What are you gonna do?" he asked.

"I'm gonna finish the job. You know, eat the yogurt," she said, grinning.

"Sometimes it's like you're speaking a different language," he said, getting up from the bed, slipping on his boxers, shaking his head. He smiled wide, showing a straight set of teeth.

"Honey, your teeth look great. You just whiten?" Beth asked, hand at her crotch.

"About a week ago. They hurt like hell," Paul said.

Beth asked, "Hey, have you ever seen that commercial with the Southern Comfort guy, where he's holding that glass, and it has this flag sticking out of it that says, 'Be you,' or something, I can't remember," Beth said.

Paul leaned in, looked her in the eye, touched her breast, and said, "No, the flag reads, 'Whatever's comfortable.'"

"Hey, we better hurry. Get outta here. I'm gonna do it myself. It's getting late. About that commercial, you sure that's what's on that flag? You sure?"

Paul laughed, flashing his white teeth. "I dunno, love, but I'm sure I'd like to watch."

"Me, or the commercial?" Beth asked.

"Both," Paul answered.

-- C.A. MacConnell