The White Box -- Part 2 - Sex Stories

The White Box -- Part 2

... either.” The truth was that I had shredded her cards, placing the tiny pieces into a plastic bag and dumping them in a strip mall about a mile from home. We finished up and I decided to take the rest of the day off. It was almost five anyway. I told my secretaries to leave then also. I wanted Rita home with me. Wednesday dragged as I waited patiently for the appointment with the urologist. Finally, Rita walked into a meeting at 3:30 to remind me of the appointment. I asked her to join me and to bring her pad. I told her that she could take a cab back for her car later once we were done. Of course, that was just for appearances. Rita would ride with me, stay with me, and go to dinner with me before returning home to spend the night. I’d asked Elkins to run an errand for me this morning. It would be a surprise for later. Rita gave me directions and twenty minutes later I pulled into the parking lot. Nassau Urology, the sign said. Among the list of doctors was the name Brian Mullin. We walked in and I gave my insurance card to the receptionist. Then I sat to complete the five pages of forms. I was about to write when Rita whispered, “Duh,” and handed me a pile of already completed pages ready for my signature. I signed and returned the typed pages to the startled receptionist. Rita and I sat for only a few minutes before being called by a nurse. I was weighed and my vital signs taken before being led to an exam room. The nurse gave me a hospital gown then left. Rita helped me ...

... and before long I was feeling the cold air conditioning running up my butt. “We’ll have to get some of them for you. You have a cute little butt!” “Ha ha,” I said as I sat on the cold vinyl chair. I was silent—nervous—until Rita took my hand. She was holding it when a tall slender man entered. Rita rose and hugged him before turning to introduce us. “Brian, this is my boss—Martin Bellamy; Martin, my brother-in-law, Brian.” I rose to take his hand. “Okay, Martin—tell me about your accident.” “Well, to begin with it was no accident. I was tortured, my testicles crushed over a week until they were mush.” I went on to describe how Dana and her lover—no name—had tried to make me their slave so they could steal my business. “Is it worth all that much?” “Yeah, probably about six to seven billion.” His jaw dropped. Finally, he recovered and asked me to sit up on the exam table so he could examine me. “I can see you’re an honest man, Mr. Bellamy. The skin shows signs of compression—plenty of tiny tears and rough edges where the testicles were forced through with tremendous pressure. Have you tried to have sex since this happened?” Rita answered before I could, “Yes, Brian—he can and does perform well.” I never thought I’d see a doctor embarrassed. His face was red as could be. Rita took the time to give me a brief kiss. “Does this mean we can expect you at Thanksgiving?” “Sure,” I replied as Rita laughed. “I like dark meat.” “Good, you’ll be the only one. We usually throw it out.” “Put ...