Dirty Doctor
Page 7JERSEYGIRL7: Okay, fine. He lied to me about everything ... He even lied about having a penis.
D-DOCTOR: Come again?
JERSEYGIRL7: You read my message. It means exactly what I wrote.
D-DOCTOR: Call me. 555-1874.
I stared at his message, in utter disbelief that he gave me his phone number. I know we’d agreed to a phone call after I lost the bet, but this soon? The same day?
JERSEYGIRL7: How about we renegotiate the phone call thing? Don’t you think we should continue keeping things in ‘virtual reality,’ so we can remain friends?
D-DOCTOR: 555-1874.
I swallowed and stared at his number again, finally hitting call after a few minutes.
“Yes?” he answered on the first ring, and with that single word, his deep and sexy voice took me completely aback.
I waited to see if he would say something else, but the line was silent.
“Hello?” I said. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who asked me to call you ... Hello?”
“Hello,” he said, and then seconds later, deep laughter came over the line.
“You asked me to call you, so you could laugh about my situation?”
Right ... I thought it was cute that he continued to put up the sham of being a doctor with me, but given my night tonight, I couldn’t even make fun of him right now.
“Did your date at least apologize to you for wasting your time?” He finally stopped laughing.
“No, I left after he asked if I was going to split the cost of a four-dollar drink. He said he only invited me there so we could take in the ambiance, and he probably thought I wouldn’t cause a scene after he told me about his penile agenesis. He was actually planning to take me to Burger King for the real dinner afterwards.”
“I see.” His laughter returned, and it turned me on completely. “I think you and I should meet, JERSEYGIRL7.”
Silence.
“Um ... You just want us to meet?”
“I want us to fuck. But I thought saying that first would be rude. Nonetheless, if you agree to that, I think you would finally end your months of misery.”
“No,” I said firmly, even though every word he’d said dampened my panties. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t have to know me to fuck me.” He paused. “You clearly didn’t know the man you just went out with. You didn’t even know he was born without a penis.”
“That’s not fair.”
“So?”
“How many of them were a one hundred percent match to you, like I am?”
I was silent.
“Exactly,” he said. “I think it’s in both of our best interests if you let me fuck you the way you’ve been wishing for after all these months. I can guarantee I won’t be a disappointment, and I actually know how to eat pussy.”
I needed to hang up on this man right now. Any man who could soak my panties in seconds with his voice alone, was bound to be trouble.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” were the only words I could say.
“Then give me three reasons why it’s not.”
“One, I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Garrett.”
“Okay, Garrett. Are you going to be a gentleman and ask for mine?”
“I’m going to ask you for the other two reasons why I can’t fuck you, first. Those are far more important at the moment.”
“Are you alright, Miss?” The cab driver looked at me through the rearview mirror and I flashed him a reassuring smile. I caught a glimpse of my reflection and saw that my face was flushed red.
“Yes?”
“What are the two other reasons why I can’t fuck you?”
“Two, you’re not really a doctor. You’ve led me on about something as simple as that for months, so there’s a high possibility that you could be a serial killer.”
“You’ve never told me what you do for a living and I haven’t assumed anything at all. Other than the fact that I think I’d enjoy the taste of your pussy against my mouth. What’s pointless reason number three?”
I stalled, thinking of any possible reason, but every nerve in my body was begging me to stop playing games and take this man up on his offer.
“Exactly,” he said, his voice low. “There isn’t a third reason and your first two reasons make no sense at all. What are you doing two Fridays from now?”
“Nothing that I know of.”
“Wrong answer,” he said. “You’ll be fucking me ... Say it.”
“I’ll be fucking you,” I whispered, not believing I was actually saying that aloud.
“Good. Glad we could finally get on the same page. Where do you want to go for the ‘date’ part?”
“Huh?” I was confused. “The date part?”
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” he said. “You’ve always told me that you need to be mentally aroused before sex, preferably on a date. So, where do you want to go for the date part?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">