|Andreas Bacchus, CC-BY, via flicr|
“I know this is kind of awkward, but I’ve yearned for you since the moment we first met” she said.
Melissa had followed me into my office and shut the door. We had been working late and there was no one else in the department. She stroked her lower lip with her forefinger, as if checking it was still there. I expected her to laugh and tell me it was all a prank. But she didn’t. Motionless, I gaped at her.
“I’m f-f-flattered, but I’m a married …” My voice trailed off. I was stunned. Melissa was in her early thirties, at least twenty years my junior, and the most appealing girl in the department, oozing sexuality from every pore.
Her hazel-brown eyes locked onto mine. “I need you” she whispered. Her breathing quickened. “I need you now.”
Her hand moved from her mouth to her neck. I could see her swollen nipples through the flimsy fabric of her white top; she was not wearing a bra. Without taking her eyes from mine, she slowly undid the buttons of her blouse, slipped it from her shoulders and dropped it on the floor, releasing her firm, pendulous breasts. She approached me and slipped her hands around my waist, backing me against the office desk. She nuzzled her head into my neck and I felt the moistness of her lips. Her ebony hair caressed my cheek and her fragrance stirred me. Her hands slipped into the back of my pants and she held my buttocks, pulling me against her hips. Her grip tightened and her finger-nails burrowed into my butt-cheeks. I moaned with pleasure. Her grip tightened further; I gasped in astonishment at the urgency of her need. Her talons sliced through my skin causing me excruciating pain. I could feel rivulets of blood trickling down the back of my thighs. I screamed.
“Bryan, Bryan; can you here me?”
I opened my eyes. An Asian fellow in a blue tunic, with a moustache and hairy arms, was gently tapping my face. As I regained consciousness, I registered a stinging pain from the cavernous depths of my arse.
“One hemorrhoid removed” continued the junior surgeon “and two successfully banded.”
“Right,” I mumbled, “Thanks.”
Prostrated on a bed clad only in a surgical gown, I recalled the events of the day. My arrival at the hospital after six-hours of prescribed starvation. Suffering the indignity of an enema delivered by a student nurse young enough to be my daughter (“hold it in for 10 minutes” she’d said – yeah, dream on!). And removing my chic pink underpants and Velcro-slippers and placing them under the surgical trolley prior to being transported to the operating theatre.
|phallin, CC-BY, via flickr|
Later, while recuperating in the recovery ward, nibbling my corn-beef sandwich and sipping tea, I reflected on events in the operating theatre. What contortions did they put my body through so as to get me in a position to assault my hemorrhoids? I was lying on my back on a trolley when they injected the general anaesthetic so they must have moved me while I was in a coma. Did they turn and splay me over a bench, in a position not dissimilar to one, I imagine, commonly encountered by inmates in a Turkish prison? Or did they leave me on my back and place my legs in straps (as per gynaecological examination) before hoisting my butt into the air; if so, they would have required a mechanical winch to get my sagging bollocks out of the way of the operation site.
And what about Melissa? Throughout the surgical procedure I would have been surrounded by a clutch of theatre staff. Were there any clues as to my fantastical muses while under the anesthetic? Did I get up close and personal with the dude with hairy arms? Were there any obvious signs of arousal? Come to think of it, the theatre nurse did smirk as she pushed my trolley all the way back to the recovery ward … …
As long as you left them impressed, you have nothing to worry about,ReplyDelete
Mind you, the invasiveness of the procedure probably stripped away any dignity you had so, what the heck, might as well add a spontaneous erection into the mix?
I'm not sure I impressed them, Ken. Then again, I might linger in their memories for a long-time as a source of ridicule.Delete
Thanks as always for your interest.
Oh the laughter. Starting with the picture (what the hell is he going to write about?) to the erotic introduction (dear god he's missed his calling!) to the hairy-armed Asian and the imaginary hoisting of your "bollocks" (we Canadians need to start using that term) I truly was laughing out loud (and I am sitting in a public area so I got some strange looks!).ReplyDelete
I'm delighted my story lightened your day. "Bollocks" is a popular word in the UK; I'd be honored if you spread its use across Canada.Delete
I appreciate your support and encouragement, Pam.
That dream is ALMOST enough to make one want to go through the same experience. I recently underwent a colonoscopy — which ranks about as high on the pleasure scale as a hemorrhoidectomy — but I had no such fantasies while in la-la land.ReplyDelete
Very funny stuff.
Any medical exploration of the large intestine is never pleasant.Delete
You might have had fantasies, Thomas, but perhaps you can't remember them.
Thanks for taking the time to stop by.
This was a truly great post. well paced and constructed. You've given me courage to talk about my rectal surgery...almost.ReplyDelete
I'm humbled to receive praise from such a talented writer and I appreciate your enduring support.Delete
I eagerly await the account of your own "back-door" surgery.
As long as you didn't wake up from your operation with a woodie....ReplyDelete
One day I'll have to write about my hemorrhoid surgery in 1988.
"So, how bad will it be?"
"Imagine sliding down a bannister with razor blades with no trousers on into a vat of rubbing alcohol."
As I have come to expect, such vivid imagery Al.Delete
The area in question is still stinging!
Thanks for your interest.
And, even after 25 years, I still don't read the Sunday newspaper on the "throne."Delete
And bran is my friend.
I read this the other day and laughed, but I was so embarrassed by the picture that I had to get it off my screen, especially when my kids could come walking by and wonder why mama is looking at a man's butt. You're writing is so good, I really enjoy reading your posts.ReplyDelete
Sorry for any embarrassment caused, Kate. The man's-butt picture just seemed so apt for the post, but maybe I should shrink it to avoid traumatizing the children of the western world (not to mention their parents).Delete
Thanks for your interest.
BTW, I was joking about the man's butt, but now that I re-read what I wrote, it doesn't sound like I'm joking at all. I'm lame like that sometimes. ;-)Delete
I didn't purposely omit the thumbnail photo off the blog-hop; I just botched the upload! Says a lot about my IT skills.Delete
Ha, great stuff. Nothing better than hospital-induced fantasies!ReplyDelete
Happy to hear you're on your way to recovery.
Thank you Daniel. Hospitals have been inducing fantasies since my childhood days when I played "doctors and nurses" with my cousin.ReplyDelete
That was funny as hell and now I'm having trouble sitting down.ReplyDelete
I'm glad it amused you, Joe. And I hope you can sit down soon.ReplyDelete
Thanks for dropping by.
Yep, the operating staff probably got quite a show... I hope. :)ReplyDelete
I'm sure the operating staff have seen it all before.ReplyDelete
Haha! VERY funny. I always wonder what I might have done or said while I'm under. Some of the photos are a tad disturbing!ReplyDelete
I bet the surgical team have a few tales to tell.Delete
Thanks for taking the time to comment.
For a brief moment, I thought for sure you had hooked up to the wrong hop! Or maybe that I'd clicked on the wrong thing. The bare butt caught me off guard, and then the sexy beginning, and then BA HA HA! Oh thank goodness it IS meant to be humor!ReplyDelete
Hope you've recovered without any lasting effects...
Thanks for hooking up with the Humor Me Blog Hop!
Fully recovered now, thank you. Or at least the physical wounds have healed - the psychological scars remain!ReplyDelete
Bryan, you scared the crap outta me. After my tongue lashing over using the word "shit," I was afraid I was gonna get an earful for having someone link up an erotica with the Humor Me! Blog Hop. And then you punched me in the throat with your anus. Well played! :)ReplyDelete
Apologies for the fright, Terrye.ReplyDelete
By the way, the picture is not my butt. I wish it was; my arse is much less appealing than the one shown.