Photo Source: Unsplash Bedtime Story You washed. I waited reading. You emerged. “You’ll turn the lamp off, won’t you, very soon?” I grunted, constrained again to follow my intent. Kissed fingers touched my forehead. Heard a slipper, then the other, shed. But second leg en route  towards the sheets you stopped a-straddle, perched, mouth pursed in concentration, buttocks clenched. To no avail. Out sparked a ping, A single syllabyled contracted fart. Your eyes above your hand dilated and you...