“So…bet you thought I was just talking out of my bottom last night,” Finn says cheerfully. He’s just trying to make conversation. There isn’t any hint of I can tell you’re thinking about me, and they aren’t appropriate thoughts in his voice.
The word bottom catches my attention—all of my attention. My thighs tingle wildly, and something in my stomach tumbles over and throbs. There’s a good chance it could be my ovaries. Or my g-spot? Where’s that anyway? Somewhere deep inside, buried and mystical? Well, I wouldn’t know because I’ve never found it before or had it discovered. I do know one thing, though. I’d like to quality control the batch of Finn’s bottom if that makes sense. Anyhow, I’m sure the meaning is obvious.
Sigh. I’m extra pathetic this morning, and I don’t like it.
“I, uh, what would a bottom actually say if it could talk?” I wince into my coffee because who even says something like that?
Finn laughs, and holy fuzzy bananas, I really like the sound of it. I mean, it gives me goosebumps—south of the border—in places I didn’t know goosebumps could exist.
“I guess it would say something like ‘stop sitting on me, you oaffus’ or ‘why do I have to be on the smelly end of things all the time?’”
I shake my head and find myself laughing too. “That’s ridiculous. It would not. It wouldn’t know any better.”
“I think it would. You don’t think it would be jealous of all the finer parts? Like the eyes, the ears, the nose, or the mouth? All it gets is the shit end of the stick. Kind of literally.”
I can’t take it anymore as I burst out laughing. I can’t stop, and pretty soon, I have to set my coffee cup down on the counter to keep it from spilling all over the place because I’m shaking so hard from laughter. “Wow.” I brush moisture from my eyes as my other hand clutches the counter to keep myself upright. “I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time, especially not over something so dumb.”
“Dumb? Dumb? I’ll have you know I’m being perfectly serious here. Bottoms don’t get a fair shake.”
“Have you been on social media lately? I’d say bottoms get more than a fair shake right now.”
Now it’s Finn who roars with laughter. I find myself joining in again, laughing so hard that my abs start to ache. When our laughter dies down, I realize I’ve spent a lot of time dawdling in here, and I had dragged myself out of bed late this morning because I didn’t sleep well, and when that happens, five comes too early. With a small sigh, I grab my cup and give Finn a nod.
“I’m going to go start all the feeding and everything. I’ll be in for lunch, and you can join me after if you want.”
“You can bet your bottom I will,” he says, grinning at me.
“I think it’s bottom dollar.”
“Touché.”
I leave him there at the table and make a fast exit out to the barn. I left my coffee on the counter, but I can always warm it up later. Believe me, around here…if I get to enjoy a full cup, it’s a rare luxury.
After getting everyone’s breakfast and serving it up, I find myself with Moobelle in her stall in the barn. I pet her side gently as she eats. She’s used to me, so she doesn’t mind. She’s often outside, and she’s very affectionate. She has a close bond with Big Brown, the other big brown cow at the sanctuary. Big Brown is quite a bit older than Moobelle, and she came from a horrible situation. She was terrified when she got to the sanctuary, and it took her a long time to trust me. I got Moobelle four months after Big Brown joined our family, and it was amazing how Big Brown changed when she had a friend of her own kind. She’s very motherly to Moobelle and also watches over her like a hawk. Moobelle is a goofball by contrast, and she brings a lot of playfulness and joy into Big Brown’s life.
“It’s bad, Moobelle,” I groan as I run my hands over her big, soft ears. “Really bad.” She ignores me completely and chews loudly on her breakfast. “I mean, we were talking about bottoms, and now all I can think about is his bottom.”
Moobelle moos loudly at that.
“Yeah. You noticed it too? When he was the wrong side up in the fence? I mean, it’s perfect. It was just there—glaringly, like the sun, and right in our faces. How could we not notice? How can anyone have a butt that perfect? I think it might be the jeans. They’re expensive, so they must do something for the derriere that regular pants don’t.”
Moobelle shifts a little as if she agrees.