I was at the doctors the other day, and for whatever reason, I was screaming behind a curtain while the doctor did her job. This job in my mind was to try her dam best to turn me on. And the only thing which hindered her scheme, was the fact my mother, being the intrusive and down right meddeling person she is, was behind the curting, asking, ’something wrong, son?’. ‘Something wrong? If there wasn’t, then why would I be screaming? God sake, woman, haven’t you got somewhere better to be? Like not in a room with your son and a very attractive doctor who happened to be called Dr. Chex, and happended to be rubbing up my leg as I attempted not to get a boner’, I thought to myself. My attempt was gracious, I thought, and I hope she noticed – I mean I’m sure she did; with ‘a young man’ as large as mine, and an ego to match, how couldn’t she? Yeah, I think she knew. I think she felt the connection between us – the illicit, sexual and quite frankly, unheard of connection; a connection that she may or may have known about, but a connection nontheless – which will inevitbly result in her further knowledge of the human anatomy, without the need for medical education and tutoring. Kanye West calls it ‘welcome to hearbreak’; I call it ‘Welcome to my cock’.
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