Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Experimental butt-stuff: the real human condition.
Except here’s the thing. They make toys and devices specifically designed for back there, and those specifically designed toys have one thing in common: a flared base. Why? Because things have a way of slipping inside butts when people start experimenting, and without a flared base, they can go in and then have a very hard time coming back out. It’s usually between the four and twelve-hour mark that people cave, swallow their dignity, and take the most embarrassing trip of their lives to the emergency room.
The best course of action, should you find yourself in a bad way like this with your shampoo bottle or whatever stuck up your ass, is to be honest. I mean, sure, you can tell your doctor “you fell in the shower and it just happened!” But I can tell you with as much sincerity as I can that no doctor, ever actually believes that. So, just be honest, like Mr. Klein here who’s just had his fourth operation in two years to remove a foreign object from his rectum.
Look, I’m not judging, believe me. But surely there are better ways to get off that don’t involve a Bud Lite bottle in your ass. For the fourth time.
“I know, I know, doctor,” Mr. Klein sighs, shrugging and spreading his arms wide. “Look, I tried, I just… c’mon, you know? You get urges too, right?”
I smile. “Yes, Mr. Klein, everyone gets ‘urges,’ and sometimes we get urges that involve a degree of risk. But I’m going to remind you again that this can be very, very dangerous. It’s tricky enough to get a full bottle out, but if it were to shatter inside of you, you’d be in a world of trouble.”
I frown. I could have the same conversation I’ve had with this man three other times. I could once again try and assure him that, though I’m not a psychologist, him wanting to experiment anally doesn’t mean he’s gay, and that perhaps these urges are something he could share with his wife of twenty years. Hell, for all we know, she’s been dying to shove things up his ass. Kinks are funny like that.
But we’ve been through all of that before, and I’m not here to play marriage or sex counsellor to Mr. and Mrs. Klein.
“Mr. Klein, I won’t tell you how to live your life or how to communicate better with your wife, that’s between the two of you, and you already know what I’m going to say about being open and honest.”
He chuckles, nodding. “Yep, I know, I know.”
“But what I will tell you, and I’ll keep telling you this, is that if you’re going to be doing this, you need to buy a toy that was specifically designed for it. You need something with a flared base, so it doesn’t get stuck—”
“Doctor, I’m not a gay. I’m not buying a goddamn rubber dick.”
I sigh. “Mr. Klein, the body has all sorts of erogenous zones, the anus being one of them. And wanting to explore that doesn’t change your inherent sexuality—”
“Can you even imagine my wife finding something like that?”
I arch a brow. “Can you imagine her finding out that you’ve been in here four times for the things I’ve personally removed from your body?” I mutter sharply.
He blushes but shrugs it off. I mean, c’mon. The man drives a Range Rover and pays for his hospital visits with an AMEX black card. He can afford a fucking dildo.
“Well, thanks again, doctor,” he grins. “You know, we gotta stop meeting like this,” he jokes.
“I can’t understate how much I agree, Mr. Klein,” I sigh before I point a finger at him. “I mean it, by the way. Please just go buy something appropriate to do this with. One of these days you’re going to seriously injure yourself, where it won’t be something you can hide from your wife. Okay?”
He frowns and nods. “I got it. Thanks, Doctor Linetti.”
“Take care, Mr. Klein.”
“See ya next time!” he crows out with a laugh.
“I’d better not!” I yell over my shoulder as I step out from behind the privacy curtain around his hospital bed.
“Better not what.”
I almost scream, and as it is, I jump about a foot off the ground as my head whips back around to see Jack standing right in front of me. His piercing blue eyes burn hotly into mine, and that chiseled jaw of his grinds tightly as he growls lowly. I gasp, looking up into his face, standing mere inches apart from him.
“What are you—!” I stammer, my breath coming quickly. “You—you need to be in bed!” I hiss.
Somehow, instead of wearing a patient’s gown, he’s managed to get himself a pair of hospital scrub pants, with a robe on top that’s just loose and open. My eyes slide slowly over his perfect abs, and his powerful, muscled chest covered in gorgeous tattoo ink. I shiver, forbidden heat teasing through me before my eyes slide to his shoulder where the robe is half slipping off, and I frown.