CHAPTER THIRTEEN
2nd Epilogue-More Hydraulics
It’s pitch black under the stage and although I can hear the muted roar of the crowd, it’s otherwise quiet. I can sense Jack next to me, his heat and, of course, his delicious smell. He’s not speaking with me and I am secretly over-joyed about it. The look on his face when his contestant failed to move on, when mine and Chet Fine’s did, was pure rage. I made sure to give Chet a nice big hug and kiss to the cheek just to rile him up even more. Jack is never mad for long and always finds an amazing way to release the stress with me. I’m hoping to relieve him soon.
We are set to sing a duet we wrote together and is a huge hit. “I’m All Thumbs” is our own private joke that is a sexy, slow to build up song. It’s about us and any relationship that is a long time coming. We argued over the title but I gave in while Jack was convincing me, interestingly enough, with his thumb.
“Jack, the title is too dirty, this is a song we want to be on the radio, yes?” I was laid out on the bed wearing nothing but a t-shirt, on my stomach, writing in my song journal.
Suddenly, I felt his weight and heat at my back and immediately forgot my train of thought. As he kissed the back of my neck, his hands pulled up my shirt over my bare ass.
“Sally, it’s only dirty to you because of your obsession with my thumb in your ass. No one else will hear it that way, except for the pervs that hear sex in everything.”
I turned back to look at him as he traveled down to my backside peppering kisses on its generous swell. “Takes one to know one,” I reply.
He chuckled and bit my cheek. Then all conversation ceased when he straddled my legs and entered me from behind, using his thumb just the way I liked it. After that, all discussion about the title of the song was over.
I’m nervous, not about performing, but about the bomb I’m about to drop on Jack. When I planned this moment, I figured that Jack would be happy to be the center of attention and be willing to share our news with the world. Reservations invade my thoughts and I reconsider what I’m about to do. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s too late. I’ve already got Manny, Carla, and the kids set up and ready. This is going to happen.
Jack is giving me the silent treatment, yet his sighs are deafening. He wants me to apologize, and I’m not playing along. Jack is like a giant child, he needs constant reassurance he’s loved, throws tantrums that are harmless and usually funny, and is easily pacified with a treat (usually sex).
I lean over to where I can see his faint profile. “Jack, I love you,” I whisper.
He sighs again and I think I hear him mumble, “Yeah, right.”
Both of us have earpieces in and I hear Manny give us five minutes until we are up. Perfect for what I have in mind. I put my hand on Jack’s knee for support and kneel in front of him. He petulantly locks his legs together so I can’t get access to what I want. So, I pinch him on the hip, hard.
“Ouch, darlin’, that hurt,” he whines but it distracts him long enough I can get to where I want to be.
I waste no time in pulling his hardening dick out and swallowing him whole. I know I can get Jack to come in under four minutes, and I’m taking my task very seriously. He gives in immediately (I told you, treats) and grips my hair. I specifically wore it loose for this purpose. I tease him a little by sucking and nibbling on the tip then licking him like an ice cream cone. He tugs my hair and I smile then kiss the base of his shaft. I decide to put him out of his misery and then use my lack of a gag reflex to suck him in long pulls until I hear him say, “Jesus, Sally I’m going to come so hard down that beautiful throat.”
I enthusiastically swallow everything he has to give me, kiss and nuzzle him, then place his dick back in his pants and zip him up. He puts a handkerchief in my hand as I sit back on my stool, and I wipe my mouth. We both are a bit breathless when we hear Manny give us the one-minute warning.
We sit in silence, me going through the imminent performance and Jack, I think, taking a 30 second nap. I smile to myself and hug my arms to my lower abdomen, knowing he can’t see.
We are slowly and seamlessly lifted on stage as the opening chords of our song play. I start singing the words we wrote together about our love and our life. Jack looks at me with reverence and gives me a sassy wink. The audience is loving our song, it’s been number one for the past four weeks on the pop and country charts, so I’m happy they still appreciate it. Jack’s mood from earlier is gone and his sexy, cheery self is on stage, serenading me about how he is all thumbs, every time he thinks of me.
About two minutes into the song, a huge white roll of fabric falls behind us and it makes Jack jump. This wasn’t in the dress rehearsal. Like the professional he is, he shrugs it off and keeps on singing. When it’s my turn, I stare into Jack’s eyes while I know they are projecting childhood photos of the two of us, progressing up until we are together.
After the last chorus, I take Jack’s hand and turn to the back of the stage where our wedding photo is staring back at us, then pictures of us with the kids on his family’s ranch. He startles when I start singing a final line of the song that is new.
All that I am with you is the best of me,
Anything we do together is right,
I used to be all thumbs when I was with you,
Now together we will take flight.
So cheesy, but it had to be for Jack. As I sing the last word, I place his hand on my belly and nod to the ultrasound photo now projected in all its giant glory. He turns back to me, tears in his eyes, and picks me up in a crushing embrace.
“Happy?” I ask in a whisper.
He puts me down and cradles my face. “Delirious.”
We sway back and forth together in front of a few thousand of our closest friends who are madly cheering and applauding our highest of high notes.