Текст книги "Troubles and Treats"
Автор книги: Tara Sivec
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
Jenny placed her hands on my chest and gently pushed me until my back was flat against the cold tile wall. She quickly got to her knees and wrapped her hand around my dick, running her tongue teasingly over the head as I squealed.
Yep, totally just squealed and I didn’t even care.
I slid my hands into her wet hair and held on for dear life. There was no way I would push her down further, but I needed to do something with my hands before I started clapping them in front of me like a gay dude at a Barbara Streisand concert.
With one hand clutching my ass, her other hand slipped down my shaft and cupped my balls before she slid her mouth all the way down to the base.
“MISSISSIPPI MUD FUCK!” I yelled, thunking my head against the shower wall.
My excitement motivated Jenny to give it all she was worth. She sucked me in even deeper until yep, I felt the head of my cock touch the back of her throat. It was official. I was in the best porno movie in the history of the world. I now regretted my decision not to bring my cell phone into the shower with me. This was something that should be recorded for all time. After she adjusted her mouth around my shaft, she slid me almost all the way back out and then began a lightning fast rhythm with the whole in-out, in-out. Her small hand tightened around the base of my cock and began pumping me in sync with the glide of her mouth.
“Holy chips and dip, you’re really good at this,” I moaned as I looked down and watched her.
She moaned in answer and the sound vibrated all the way down my cock and through my balls. I started panting like a dog in heat. She moved her hand off of my ass and cupped my balls again, rolling them around in the palm of her hand.
“Goat fucking fucker that feels amazing!”
I continued to mutter nonsense as she quickened her pace. Within seconds, months of pent-up sperm erupted from my cock, and I screamed in drunken, mind-numbing pleasure as she swallowed all of my swimmers. “WILLIE NELSON WONDER CATS!”
My body stood completely still, every bone locked into place and my mouth hung open in shock and amazement while Jenny pulled me out of her mouth and kissed the head of my dick like it was a cute little puppy.
The water pouring out of the shower head went cold a while ago and I hadn’t even noticed. Jenny stood up from her knees while I rested motionless against the shower wall, hoping my legs wouldn’t give out.
“That stuff totally worked! I didn’t gag at all! I tested it out earlier with a banana but it was mushy and I think I swallowed some of the skin. It was gross. You weren’t gross at all and you kind of tasted like popcorn.”
“I hope you know that I plan on marrying you some day. So keep your calendar open,” I told her seriously as I turned off the water and we stepped out of the shower to towel ourselves off.
Jenny laughed the cutest little laugh and leaned up on her tip toes to kiss me on the cheek. Now that my excess sperm had vacated the meat whistle, all of the alcohol I consumed this evening started swirling around in my belly and a headache began forming.
“When I start puking tomorrow morning, just let me be. It will most likely start around 9:37. Just let me heave and don’t cook any fish or chocolate pudding while it’s happening. Also, if you find me spooning your coffee table or bar stool in the middle of the night, don’t be afraid. Just wake me up and bring me back to bed. It usually only happens once.”
As we had curled up in her bed, I picked my cell phone up from her nightstand and smiled to myself when I saw that she had indeed changed my Facebook status. Now it had said: I’m totally getting a BJ tonight.
Chapter 10 –Mace, Tasers, and Giant Testicles
“I’m telling you, Liz, someone is following me,” I argue as I put on my blinker at the stop light to turn into Target.
“I think you’re just paranoid,” Liz’s voice states, coming through the speakers of the car. “You haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months and you’re not having sex. I’ve heard that causes hallucinations.”
I roll my eyes as the light turns green and I pull into the parking lot. I check my rear-view mirror every few seconds as I drive up and down the aisle looking for a parking space.
“I’ve been to three places this afternoon and each time there was a black SUV with tinted windows parked a few cars down from me or driving a few cars behind me. Every time I look in the mirror I see that damn car,” I tell her as I finally find a spot. “I have a stalker. I just know it. I know I’ve always said I wish I had a stalker because I thought it would be cool and romantic, but I changed my mind.”
I hear Liz laugh through the speakers as I turn around in my seat and search the parking lot for the SUV.
“If you’re seriously freaked out, why don’t you call Drew?”
“Because, he’ll just race over here and make a testicle of himself,” I mumble as I continue searching the lot.
“He’s already a giant testicle. Don’t you mean spectacle?”
“No, he doesn’t wear glasses. Didn’t I tell you what he did when those Jehovah’s Witnesses came to the door and he thought they were threatening me? I didn’t want to be mean but I couldn’t get them off the damn porch. Drew came around the corner and heard me getting frustrated, pushed me out of the way, flung open the door, and started speaking in thongs,” I explain.
“Tongues. For fuck’s sake. He started speaking in tongues.”
I huff in irritation. “Whatever. He started screaming all this nonsense with wild, crazy eyes and banging his head like he was at a rock concert. Those poor old people hobbled off the porch and ran to their car. If I call him right now, he’ll start racing around the parking lot, busting old people’s hips and scaring children.”
“Alright, I’ll tell you what. Claire and I are getting ready to close up. We’ll meet you at the Starbucks in town for a coffee in like thirty minutes and see if we notice anyone looking suspicious. Will that make you feel better?” she asks.
“Yes, much better. I’ll see you in thirty.”
I disconnect the call, get out of the car, and run as fast as I can into Target just in case my stalker wants to try and run me down.
~
“Jenny, this is ridiculous. I am not putting this shit on,” Liz complains as she throws the Target bag back into my lap.
We had all managed to pull into the Starbucks parking lot at the exact same time. I had parked next to Liz’s car and motioned for her and Claire to get into mine so they could change into their outfits before we did this thing.
“Shut up and just put them on. You don’t want this lunatic to know we’re on to him, do you?” I ask in irritation as I throw the bag back at Liz.
She turns around to look into the backseat just as Claire pulls off her t-shirt and slides on the black, long-sleeved shirt I bought her at Target.
“Oh my God. Are you seriously changing?” Liz asks her with a dumbfounded look on her face.
Claire’s movements halt in the middle of unbuttoning her jeans so she can change into the black leggings I had also purchased. “What? Black is slimming. Even if there isn’t a stalker, I’ll look good drinking my coffee. Plus, Carter’s been begging to do some role playing. I can creep into the bedroom window later and pretend I’m a cat burglar that suddenly wants to bang the man she’s robbing.”
“Didn’t Carter get second degree burns on his ass last time you two role played?” I question.
“Yeah. Pretending to be a cooking instructor and telling him to hop up on the stove so I could ‘lick his beaters’ wasn’t a good idea. We both forgot the stove was on. I went to the emergency room wearing just an apron for a shirt. Okay, so maybe I won’t sneak in the bedroom window. Someone could get shot.”
Liz is still staring in stunned silence as Claire pulls a black skull cap down over the top of her head.
“You’re sure you saw the SUV driving behind you after you left Target?” Liz asks for the third time since getting in the car.
“Oh no!” I yell.
“No you didn’t see the SUV?” Liz asks in confusion.
“No! I mean yes! I said oh no because the SUV is right there, parked across the street,” I explain frantically as I point out Liz’s window.
Liz and Claire’s heads whip around, and they both stare at the black SUV parked on the corner with no one inside.
“Holy shit. Maybe you are being followed,” Liz mutters.
“Duh!” I yell as I smack her arm.
“Jenny, last year you made me come over in the middle of the night while Drew was at work because you said a colony of spider eggs hatched and your bedroom was so full of spiders you couldn’t even see the floor anymore and you were afraid they would eat Veronica. When I got to your house, there was one spider hanging from its web over your bed,” Liz states. “Forgive me if I tend not to believe you.”
“You can’t blame me for that. Veronica woke me up that night, and when I came back in the room he was just hanging there. Spiders DO NOT work alone. And he was hovering over me, watching me sleep. Who knows what other plans he had in store for me. I bet his friends were just lurking in the corners waiting to pounce on me.”
For several minutes Liz and I argue back and forth about what I like to refer to as “the night I almost got eaten alive by rabid spiders” when Claire suddenly grabs both of our shoulders from the back seat.
“Guys. I think I just saw some guy staring at the car,” she states in a whisper. “Over there behind that bush.”
“Why the fuck are you whispering? He can’t hear you,” Liz scolds.
“Shut the hell up, crotch rot!”
“Oh you did NOT just call me crotch rot, you twat-faced cum dumpster!”
“OH MY GOD! WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP! There is a man hiding behind a bush watching us!” I yell in frustration.
Liz and Claire give up on their insults to stare at the bush in question and sure enough, a head peaks out for a quick second and then goes right back into hiding.
“Oh it’s ON now!” Liz says excitedly as she starts digging into her Target bag and scrambling into her black outfit.
“Okay, Jenny, you stay here. Claire and I will sneak out of our side of the car and double back around the building so we can creep up on this douchebag,” Liz explains as she pulls her own black skull cap down low on her head. “How are we going to communicate what’s going on though?”
I reach into my own Target bag that rests on my lap and pull out two walkie-talkies.
“I got these at the store too.”
I hand one to Liz and clutch the other one tightly in my hand while I continue digging through the bag. “I’ve also got mace and a taser.”
I hand the taser to Claire and the mace to Liz.
“Since when do they sell tasers at Target?” Claire asks, leaning forward in between mine and Liz’s seats.
“Oh, they don’t. I actually brought that from home. Drew likes it when I use it on his balls.”
“Fuck, Jenny. Overshare,” Liz complains.
I watch as they quietly and slowly open their doors and slink out of the car. They shut their doors without a sound and crouch down, moving across the parking lot toward the building. I immediately feel nervous and double-check the bush to make sure the guy is still hiding behind it and not paying attention to my friends.
I turn on my walkie-talkie and hold down the talk button.
“Hey,” I whisper. “It’s Jenny.”
I let go of the button and within seconds hear Liz’s voice. “No shit, Sherlock. We just made it to the back of the building,” she says softly, the sounds of her heavy breathing coming through the walkie-talkie. “Don’t watch where we’re going. Don’t act suspicious. Just keep an eye on stalker guy and let us know if he changes position. Over and out Mrs. Pink.”
I stare at the device in my hand in confusion.
“Mrs. Pink?” I ask into the speaker.
“Yes, Mrs. Pink. I’m Mrs. Black, Claire is Mrs. Brown, and you’re Mrs. Pink,” Liz explains.
I hear Claire snatch the walkie-talkie out of Liz’s hand seconds later. “I don’t want to be Mrs. Brown. I want to be Mrs. Pink.”
“Yeah, I don’t get why I’m Mrs. Pink. I don’t even like the color pink,” I complain.
“Ooooh, I like the color pink. I’ll be Mrs. Pink and you can be Mrs. Brown,” Claire tells me.
“No, brown makes me think of poop. I want to be Mrs. Blue. Blue is pretty.”
Suddenly there’s a scuffle and some cursing coming through the speaker.
“You guys are such dicks. We’re not changing secret names. Claire is Mrs. Brown because of chocolate and you’re Mrs. Pink because pink makes me think of victims and now if anyone is on this channel they’re going to know what we’re doing,” Liz explains in irritation.
“So why are you Mrs. Black?” I question.
“Because I’m going to blacken your face if you guys don’t shut the fuck up. We are supposed to be commandeering a suspect, not having a coloring contest.”
I sigh and rest my hand with the walkie-talkie in my lap, glancing out of the car window to see if my stalker is still behind the bush. I can see the bush rustling and what looks like a pair of black boots peeking out from underneath. Suddenly, I see Liz and Jenny running full speed from the other side of the building, straight at the bush. Without thinking, I throw the walkie-talkie onto the passenger seat and scramble out of the car, rushing across the parking lot towards them.
As I’m running, I see Liz dive behind the bush and tackle someone. I can hear Claire screaming at the top of her lungs, aiming her taser at the tangle of arms and legs I see flying out from the edge of the bush.
I finally get close enough to hear what’s going on and see a quick flash of light burst out from the end of the taser followed by a high pitch scream.
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! YOU FUCK FACE. YOU JUST TASED ME!” Liz screams at Claire while her body spasms and yet, she still manages to straddle the stalker’s back. She’s got him face-planted into the ground and her elbow wrapped around his neck the whole time the electric voltage from the taser is ripping through her. She’s like Rambo on crack.
“OH MY GOD! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! SHIT!” Claire yells as she yanks the taser back toward her to get it off of Liz.
“AAAAAHHHHHH! IT’S STUCK TO MY SKIN, YOU CUNT WHORE! CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!”
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Claire mumbles as she drops the taser to the ground and rushes over to Liz while she bounces up and down on the guys back and tightens her hold on his neck.
“Oof, GET, oof, OFF, oof, ME!” the guy wheezes with each bounce as Liz lands on him.
“Tell us why you’ve been following our friend or I am going to mace you, you sick fuck,” Liz yells as Claire gets behind her and gently removes the taser hooks from her ass.
The guy has on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses and I can’t see his face, but there is something familiar about his voice. I don’t know what to do at this point except just stand there helplessly and try to figure out how I know the man’s voice. I know I should get in there and help Liz out, but I’m kind of afraid of her right now. She might mistake me for the enemy and break my face.
While I just stand there, Claire reaches into the waistband of Liz’s leggings and pulls out the can of mace, holding it out in front of her as she circles the pair on the ground as they continue to struggle and Liz continues to lob insults at him.
“Just say the word, dude, and I will waste this mother fucker!” Claire says excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to say that!”
“Last chance, buddy. Why were you following our friend?” Liz asks as she arches her back and brings the guy's head up at an awkward angle since her arm is still locked tightly around his neck.
“I’ll never talk. You can’t make me!” the guy says brokenly as he pants and struggles to get Liz off of him.
I can’t just stand there anymore. I need to do something. I walk up behind Claire and tap her on the shoulder. She must not have noticed I joined them because as soon as my fingers touches her arm, her body jolts in fright and she lets out a scream, the action causing her finger to slip and press down on the red button on the can of mace.
Within seconds, streams of liquid fire are hitting everyone in the face, including Claire herself as she screams and panics, her arms flying all over the place. I immediately drop to the ground coughing hysterically, tears running down my face. This burns worse than the time Drew ate hot wings and then went down on me. It feels like my eyes are bleeding and I can’t stop coughing.
In the chaos of screams, coughs and crying, I blindly reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell phone, pressing the button on the side of it for the voice command thingy since I can’t see to dial.
“CALL DREW! FUCKING HELL, CALL AN AMBULANCE!”
“Did you say, call Claire?”
“NO! CLAIRE IS RIGHT HERE, YOU IDIOT! I SAID CALL DREW! HELP!”
“Did you say browse the web?”
“YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE A SMART PHONE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
“Did you say send a message?”
“NO, ASSHOLE! WAIT, YES! YES, YES, YES! SEND A MESSAGE TO DREW! TELL HIM WE’VE BEEN ATTACKED AND WE’RE DYING. TELL HIM WE NEED THE POLICE, A DOCTOR, AND HANDCUFFS!”
“Sending message to, Doctor Madison.
I throw the phone away from me and curl up in the fetal position in the grass, not even caring that I just sent a message to the new marriage counselor I had scheduled an appointment with for Drew and me. She has Drew’s phone number in her records so maybe she’ll get the text and call him.
I still hear shouts and crying all around me and squint open my eyes as best I can. The tears are pouring down my face and what I see is blurry, but it looks like Liz now has Claire in a headlock and the stalker is on all fours puking in the bush.
“OH MY GOD, MY EYES!!!” the guy shouts.
And just like that, I know exactly who my stalker is. Just a few years ago he had yelled the exact same thing when he walked into our living room and saw Drew doing a handstand against the wall next to the couch while I gave him a blow job.
With squinty eyes, I push myself up onto my hands and knees and crawl over to the figure still heaving in the shrubs.
“Dad? Is that you?” I ask.
“I am an absolute disgrace! What is your major malfunction, numb nuts? You let a bunch of namby-pamby girls take you down. I ought to take a giant shit on you!” he mumbles to himself between coughs and dry heaves.
Yep, that’s my father-in-law. Leave it to him to quote Full Metal Jacket at a time like this. As soon as I can feel my face again and see out of my eyes, he’s going to explain this whole mess to me.
“1-2-3-4 I LOVE THE MARINE CORPS!”
Well, maybe after the mace is gone from his system. I think it’s affecting him worse than it is us girls.
“SON OF A BITCH, LIZ! Will you let go of my hair? It was an accident,” Claire yells from behind me. “And I can hear you calling me a dumb fuck whore. I may be blind but I can still hear!”
“Then hear this, you dumb fuck whore! Sleep with one eye open. When I can see again, I will straight up shank you with a whittled down stiletto,” Liz threatens with her eyes squeezed shut as she crazily swings her arms around trying to reach Claire, who managed to escape from her clutches, drop to the ground, and crawl away.
Alright, so maybe everyone has ingested a bit too much mace.
Chapter 11 – Womb Hugging and Penis Loving
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
I wince at the sound of Jenny’s screech as she throws the cold, wet towel off of her eyes and glares at me.
I can’t help it. I laugh. She looks like she has hickies all around her eyes. They are puffy and red and right now it’s really hard to look right at her.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
Shit.
I actually do feel really bad that she was maced. She looks like hell and I’m sure it doesn’t feel that great.
When I had got a phone call from some person named Doctor Madison telling me she received a text from my wife saying, “I pooped on the police and killed an ambulance. Bring handcuffs,” I was a little confused, albeit intrigued. Who was I to judge my wife’s kinkiness? I called Jenny right away and could only hear screaming and crying in the background and something about her eyes melting. When I got to the scene, my father was curled up in the fetal position in the parking lot where he crawled as far away from the girls as he could. He made me promise that I would keep Liz at least ten to twenty feet away from him at all times because she threatened to dig out his eyes with her belt buckle and he really thought she’d do it.
After getting my dad, Liz, and Claire home, I admitted to Jenny in the car about hiring my dad to follow her. I had figured it was safer that way. She wouldn’t kill me while she was half blind and I was driving. She had ignored me the rest of the way home.
Now we are here, and she is only a few feet away from a kitchen full of sharp objects.
“You’re telling me, you thought I was FAKING A WORK INJURY and you had your dad follow me? I thought I had some crazy stalker tailing me all day and he was going to induct me.”
Yep, full on laughing right now. There’s no hope for me. I’ve already accepted my fate of sleeping on the couch for the rest of eternity.
“Was this stalker going to induct you into the Stupid Crime Stoppers Hall of Fame?”
Jenny grabs the wet towel from the couch and re-covers her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch.
“I can’t even look at you right now I’m so angry. Why in the hell would you think I was faking an injury and trying to cheat Claire out of money? And your father? Really? You actually hired your insane father to follow me around? Did you see what he was wearing? Full on camouflage, a hat with branches glued to the top of it, and leaves painted all over his face. That is not normal, Drew.”
Would now be a bad time to point out that all three women were dressed as slutty burglars?
I shrug even though she can’t see me. “What can I say, he really gets into his work. And he said to tell you he was sorry.”
She doesn’t say a word. She just keeps her head on the back of the couch and the towel over her eyes. I feel like I'm in the principal’s office, standing in front of her desk waiting for my punishment like that one time in high school when I put a little black skirt over the figure on the boy’s bathroom door in an attempt to get some hot chicks to walk in on guys pissing. Instead, the principal had walked in on a Freshman whacking off during fourth period. The principal had ignored me for an hour before she finally gave me my punishment. I don’t want to stand here for an hour. The kids are asleep and Tosh.0 is coming on soon.
“Um, are we done here?” I ask.
“Did you seriously just say that to me?!” Jenny screeches.
How is it possible for women to hit decibels with their voices that even dogs can’t hear?
“Yes, we’re done here. You can explain your stupidity to Doctor Madison tomorrow when we go for marriage counseling.”
I’m sorry, what?
~
“So, Drew, tell me why you think you’re here?”
I stare at the woman sitting across from us wearing a long flowing skirt, Birkenstocks, and yellow tinted glasses. The smell of incense is so strong in here I think I’m going to be sick, and the soft sounds of Simon and Garfunkel coming from her radio in the corner makes me want to take a nap.
“I have no idea what the hell I’m doing here aside from having a bad '60s flashback,” I mutter.
Jenny smacks my arm and I let out a big sigh.
“Oh it’s okay, Jenny. This is a room of honesty. Your husband is free to express whatever is in his heart and mind when he’s in this room without fear of judgment. I’ll make this a little easier on you since it’s your first time here. Jenny has explained to me over the phone that the two of you are having some communication issues. Is that correct?” she asks.
“Um, sure. I guess,” I say with a shrug.
I don’t know this woman, and I’m sure as hell not going to tell her the only communication problem my wife and I have right now is that her vagina doesn’t want to speak to my dick. Hippy chick here will look right at my penis and wonder what’s wrong with me. This stranger is going to think I have a third ball or my penis is shaped like a horseshoe.
“My penis is fine!” I shout.
Might as well put that out there before she gets any funny ideas. She doesn’t even bat an eye at my outburst, just folds her hand in her lap and smiles at me.
“You have a real connection with your penis, is that correct?”
Is this really happening right now?
“Um, well, it IS connected to my body, so yes. I’m sort of connected to it.”
She just smiles at me again and then points to my shirt. “I was referring to your shirt.”
I glance down and realize I’m wearing one that says: I puffy heart my penis. Let me show you why.
“I think I can sense what the root of the problem is here. You two just had a baby not that long ago. Sometimes it’s difficult for couples to connect again after something this life altering happens. What we need to do is get you two to connect.”
Okay, I take it back. This woman might be a genius. If she can get my wife to connect with me at the pelvis, I will buy myself a pair of Birkenstocks and sit under a black light with her, smoking pot.
“Jenny, I’d like you to do something for me. Turn your body on the couch so that you are facing your husband.”
Jenny does as she’s told, pulling her legs up onto the couch and sitting Indian style.
“Okay, now, Jenny, I want you to look down at your husband’s penis and tell it you love it.”
Jenny hesitates and looks at Dr. Madison questioningly.
Do not question the good doctor! Do as she says!
“It’s alright, Jenny. This will be good for both of you. Talk to the penis.”
Jenny slowly turns back to me and stares right down at my lap.
“Um, I love you.”
“Very good, Jenny! Now, I want you to apologize to the penis for taking it for granted,” Dr. Madison explains kindly.
I wonder if she’ll tell Jenny to suck the penis next. And if so, should I ask the good doctor to leave or stay?
“Uh, I’m sorry for taking you for granted,” Jenny says while still staring at my lap.
“Excellent! Okay, Drew, now it’s your turn,” Dr. Madison states.
I don’t even hesitate. “I love you penis! You are the best guy ever! No, seriously. You never let me down, you’re always up when I need you to be, and I apologize for some of those issues we had back in college that required antibiotics,” I say to my penis.
I look up at Dr. Madison, quite proud of myself for being such a team player with this whole therapy nonsense.
“That was very nice, Drew. But what I really wanted you to do was talk to Jenny’s vagina,” she explains.
Well alrighty then.
Figuring I might as well be comfortable for this, I curl up on the couch and rest my head on Jenny’s thigh. “I love you too, vagina. I miss you like a hooker misses her virginity. True story. Why have you done me wrong, Boo? Why is there such a distance between us? Remember when we used to hang out every day? Now I barely see you once a month. You’ve changed, vagina. I hate to say this, but you have. You’re a different person now, and it’s like I don’t even know you. I thought maybe you were hanging around with a different crowd of people and they influenced you against me. Maybe we’re just growing apart. I don’t want to lose you, vagina! I need you like I need air to breathe and football on Sundays. I just can’t quit you, vagina!”
I realize when I finish that the room is eerily quiet. I lift my head from Jenny’s leg and see both women staring at me with their mouth’s open. Okay, so I had cried a little. Sue me. This is emotional shit. This doctor is getting to the heart of all of our problems. My penis and Jenny’s vagina.
“Um, that was…uh, unexpected,” Dr. Madison states.
I sit up fully on the couch and grab a Kleenex from the side table and blow my nose.
“Wow, that felt really good,” I say, rolling my shoulders and stretching my neck from side to side. “It feels like a weight has been lifted. My mind is clear and I feel so free. What should we do next?”
Dr. Madison looks down at the notepad in her lap and flips a few pages. “Well, I think you have made some great progress, Drew. We just need to get Jenny where you are. Jenny, when was the last time you hugged your womb?”
“Hugged my room? I don’t get it,” Jenny says, confused.
“No, your womb. The place where you gave life to your two children,” Dr. Madison explains.
“Uh, can I do that here? Shouldn’t that be done in a real doctor’s office with a table and stirrups? I don’t think I can reach it otherwise. Unless you have a mirror and maybe a flashlight.”
“If I can reach your G-spot in the middle of the woods with a tube of watermelon Bonne Belle Chap Stick while it’s raining and there is a homeless guy in a tent four feet away singing the Sesame Street theme song, then you can hug your womb,” I tell her encouragingly.
I probably shouldn’t have brought that up because now I’m distracted and can only think about the one time we went camping and got lost in the woods.
And now I have a hard on.
“Actually, I don’t mean you actually need to…um, reach up and touch your literal womb,” Dr. Madison explains.
“Why is she talking about littering? Is she saying my womb is dirty?” Jenny whispers to me.
“What I need you to do, Jenny, is just cradle your arms around your lower stomach area. Hold your womb in your arms and give it comfort. Let it know you care.”
Okay, now this chick is talking crazy.
“And while you’re at it, try soothing your ovaries and give them some encouragement to open themselves back up and accept the love that is given. I believe the problem here is that your womanhood has closed itself off and no longer recognizes love.”
Bat shit crazy. Talking to my penis and Jenny’s vagina is normal. This is one step away from taking all of our clothes off and dancing and chanting around a sacrificed pig.
My awesome wife does as she’s told though and wraps her arms around her waist. She gently rocks from side to side and begins talking to her “womanhood” like it’s Billy.
“Such good little ovaries. Yes you are!”
I want off this crazy train. Right the fuck now!
Watching my wife rock-a-bye her ovaries makes me wonder what she initially thought we would get out of this counseling session. I had thought it would be a bunch of arguing and pointing fingers about whose fault it is that we aren’t having sex anymore. Maybe she doesn’t think that’s the problem. Shit, maybe that isn’t the problem. Maybe it’s just my problem. She’s not faking a work injury, she’s not cheating on me…what the hell else could it be? A few years ago she cut me off from sex for a week because I gave her a Dutch Oven in bed one night. While hilarious, it’s never a good idea when your wife is naked and getting ready to mount you.
