As I awoke from the general anaesthetic my thoughts were immediately confused and uncertain. Where was I? When was I? Had I shat myself?
Over time I remembered where I was, a local hospital, and as I remembered exactly why I was here a grin lit up my face. Oh yes, I remembered why...
It had all started months ago with another surgery, but this hadn't been a general where I'd been knocked out, this was merely a local anaesthetic to numb the pain, which was the norm for a vasectomy. They'd only just begun when I noticed confused and worried expressions on the faces of both the doctor and the nurse.
"Ellie," the Doctor spoke firmly to the Nurse, "perhaps you could go get Mr Brendley a cup of coffee?"
I've never seen someone walk out of a room so fast as that nurse, which was a shame, because she was quite an attractive woman, the tightness of her scrubs revealing a fantastically curvy ass, yet with how quick she was to leave the room I barely got time to stare. Instead, I found myself being on the receiving end of the doctors worried gaze.
"Mr Brendley, Paul," the tone in which Doctor Smith spoke my name sent shivers through me. What the hell was wrong with my balls? "I feel that is only appropriate to tell you that, well," he paused, further extending my agony, "the real issue is, you don't have an active vas deferens."
As silence fell confusion covered me.
"And what exactly does that mean?" I asked as calmly as I felt able, my words coming out flat and emotionless.
Doctor Smith swallowed before answering.
"It means that you have sperm, that you can create sperm, but that you have no delivery system. There is no way for the sperm to get to your penis."
Digesting the news, it took me some time to consider the implications of what he'd just said.
"That can't be true Doc, I've got three kids! I'm here because I didn't want any more!"
My attempt at staying calm was failing, the pitch increasing with every word I spoke. Any more, and soon only dogs would have been able to hear me.
"I'm afraid Paul, that I can only tell you what's in front of me. I can't make any suggestions, or confirm any theories you might have as to your children. That is something that you need to discuss with your wife."
My wife. My darling, beautiful, treacherous whore of a wife.
I'd been part of the football team, she was a cheerleader, and to no one's surprise that's how we met. She'd been stunning, and I readily admit it was the main reason I'd been attracted to her. Long, blonde hair, features that wouldn't look out of place on playboy, her large breasts hypnotising me completely, while I also had the blonde hair, short in my case, and a six pack that more than just Mandy fawned over, but she was the one who'd caught my eye.
Our initial meeting had been fairly idyllic, as if it had been ripped from the first act in a play. Our eyes had met across the football field, although I accepted my eyes were more focused upon her breasts, her top one size too small they were large and perky, a must-have in a girl back then. Her skirt had the opposite issue of being too short, 'accidentally' displaying her smooth, toned legs and, importantly, I could tell she only had a lacy pair of panties on beneath. It was thirty minutes later behind the bleachers that I realised I was in love, my balls beginning to tighten my cock between her luscious lips as she took every inch. It might not have been much, but as I shot my load into a woman for the first time, I felt like I'd won every trophy available.
All in all, it was a classic player meets cheerleader romance, but unlike the stereotypical jock, I was also part of the science and chess clubs. I can't say I was the smartest of them all, no chance, those nerds had me beat, but I was clever enough to be actively involved for more than just heavy lifting.
Except, life never stopped when school ended and, when it came between choosing a football scholarship or taking a job in a local lab, I also had to consider that Mandy was already four months pregnant. This came as a surprise, and I'd surmised that the condoms must have broken without me noticing. Being in that situation I took the job, and we got married three months later and our kids are now twelve, nine and four, two girls before we finally had a boy. Well, we did, until we didn't.
The nurse returned with the cup of coffee as my mind raced. I took it absent-mindedly but still remembered to thank her, something that I'd always put down to being raised with southern hospitality, but from what I could tell Mandy, my wife, had been a much more hospitable person.
I placed the cup to my lips and the liquid disappeared, but I don't remember drinking much, instead I merely stared as the doctor, John Smith, who'd been in the year above me in high school, stitched me back up. I didn't know Ellie, but I also knew that we lived in a small town, and it wouldn't take much for this to become gossip.
"So," the doctor, John, finished up what I wasn't really listening too, "you're going to need to keep it clean and dry, leave the dressing on, blah blah blah..." Yeah, I don't remember his exact words, but I remember interrupting him.
"Obviously, you can't tell anyone about this can you?" My voice was calmer now, more natural, but it was merely hiding a leviathan beneath the waves, "with confidentiality and all, you've gotta not tell anyone, yeah?"
"Of course, Paul," John nodded firmly, Ellie copying like a well-trained parrot, "not a word."
"Good, 'cuz I'm not gonna tell anyone, so if anything gets out, I'm gonna get a lawyer and make sure I'm not the only person who loses something, okay?"
"Absolutely," John nodded, his head seemingly in danger from falling off, "we understand."
As I left the hospital, Ellie walking with me to (I assume) make sure I left, my eyes wandered lazily across the corridors as I walked through in a daze yet was taken in by a brightly coloured pamphlet. As I read it, I laughed.
"Is that something someone's printed off the internet?" I asked Ellie, "I'm sure I get emails like that."
Spotting what I was reading, the grin on Ellie's face can only be described as devilish.
"Oh no," she chuckled, "that's as real as anything. It's only been available the last six months, but you'd be surprised at the successes we've had."
Picking the pamphlet off the wall, I read the words again.
"And this really works?"
"One hundred percent," the nurse nodded, "but it's not cheap."
Continuing on out, Ellie left me the moment I walked out the double doors, leaving me to stroll to my car alone. As I sat in the drivers seat, I looked at the pamphlet once more.
"FED UP OF DISAPPOINTING THE WIFE? IS SIZE THE ISSUE? THEN TRY A PENIS REPLACEMENT!"
Reading through the information inside, I was surprised by how thorough it all seemed, and as I began to consider it could be real, an idea was being planted in my brain.
I'd always been embarrassed about the size of my wiener, and wiener it was. Four inches at best, as thick as two pencils, Mandy had always told me that she didn't mind, that it was enough for her, that she always came anyway. Knowing now that she'd obviously been getting fucked elsewhere, I began to consider our sex life with the benefit of hindsight.
Despite all the sex education that pushed celibacy in our heavily religious southern American town, like any teenage couple we'd started out fucking like rabbits, which we assumed was the cause of Mandy getting knocked up.
Looking back I could see now that it had quickly gone from everyday to every week, to every month, to 'special occasions' like birthdays and whenever Mandy had too much whisky, and I assumed that's just what happened after marriage and kids, that we were both 'too tired', 'too busy', or just not in the mood.
Obviously, I'd wanted more but didn't want to push, so I spent a lot of time with a sock and a tub of Vaseline. Mandy however, had obviously opted to use another person rather than something standard like a vibrator. Now who, how many, and all those other questions, they needed answering.
As I drove home, I realised I'd be heading to an empty house. Being a Wednesday I assumed she'd be out shopping, or at least, I considered, that's what she'd always told me.
With that consideration stuck in my brain, I made a slight detour to the supermarket where Mandy told me she always went, and I spent the next fifteen minutes scouring the car park for her distinctive pink Cadillac. I might not have been a football player, but I still made good money and always did my best to spoil Mandy with whatever she wanted. Apart from my dick anyway.
Despite the size of the parking lot, it became obvious that her bright pink car wasn't there.
Running through her messages, I considered where else it could be and spent the afternoon driving around all of the places she'd told me she went while I was working. Imagine, using one of your precious days off to get the snip and instead using it to look for your cheating slut wife.
