Sperm Count
Dan wasn't just a previous lover. He was a forbidden lover.
Eight months after giving birth to my first baby, Samantha, the two of us began our affair in the downstairs guest bathroom of a house Andy inherited from his grandfather. I stepped in to give Dan a towel and a beer while he was showering off the mud after fishing. My husband was upstairs taking a nap in the master.
Dan fucked me over the sink, gazing into the foggy mirror at my breasts dancing gleefully to the rhythm of his feverish pounding. No protection. No apologies. No plan to pull out.
When he was done, I kneeled on the sloppy, tile floor and cleaned him up thoroughly with my warm, wanton mouth... every inch, every salty, wet wrinkle of skin; all the stiff, pubic stubble that prickled my chin. I can still taste the sin.
He was so tall and beautiful, so eager and hard, so strong and commanding, so completely free of conscience... so utterly divorced. And I was utterly married to the man from Mississippi who brought me to this place where we met; the place of all places and event of all events - my wedding.
More specifically, it was rehearsal where our eyes first collided, and we talked to each other incessantly. Dan was a groomsman, the one who winked when Andy lifted my sheer, satin veil and offered his promising lips in a candlelit vigil of flowers and flowing lace. Dan followed us down the aisle, tossed rice into the limo, toasted his childhood friend with champagne at the reception.
In the bathroom, Dan lifted my white, satin tank-top and parted my lips with his tongue.
"Do you take this cock?"
He toasted our lust with an ice-cold long neck and waxed me with the tip of his candle.
"I do."
***
Thus, it began. And it roared on for three solid months until Susan, his ex, found the footage on his phone. I was hanging upside down in the barn, legs tied apart like an animal awaiting slaughter. Dan was smacking my pussy with his double looped belt, shaved smoother than a pre-adolescent. My tangerine tits were the perfect size for the role. He fucked my pretty mouth until the cum ran down my face, then I pissed him a fountain down my tummy to my torso.
Devastation. Dan never adequately answered why she was plucking on his cell. "We still see each other as friends," he said.
Dan couldn't save me, and he couldn't save himself. But somehow my marriage survived. Andy's brothers blamed Dan for the seduction. I was sentenced to a year of mandatory therapy after they pulled the rope out of my hands. Dan was forever excommunicated from our lives. I was forbidden to see him or talk to him again.
Years passed...
And there he was, walking into an exam room at my clinic... late afternoon. He had asked specifically for me. Because he was established in the computer as a previous patient, I could see him myself and report back to the physician on call.
It was an insignificant complaint - episodes of sharp stabbing pain in the rectum that occurred unpredictably at night. These were rare and spontaneously resolved after fifteen or twenty minutes of agony. No association with bowel movements. No bleeding or tenderness. No butt sex or hanky panky.
"Proctalgia Fugax," I told him. "It's clinically insignificant. Just a spasm of your anal sphincter. We don't know why it happens. I could give you some cream to relax it if you like."
"It's not hemorrhoids?" he asked.
"Do you see hemorrhoids back there, Dan?"
"I don't make a point of looking." He smiled as if he'd said something funny.
"Yes, you do. It's right behind the center of your universe. I bet you floss it and bleach it every night."
The smile fell off his face. "You mean you're not going to even look back there?"
"Not if you won't allow for a chaperone. That's the rule for physicals below the belt. Besides, Dan, I know what it is by your history.
"Okay, just give me a prescription for some cream... that is, unless you have a sample somewhere on you that you can give me."
I looked at him smugly. "You haven't made me that excited yet, Dan." I was lying.
"So, spot me a few more minutes," he smirked. "If you'd just do an exam, I think we'd both feel a lot better."
"I shouldn't have agreed to see you at all. You know it's against the rules."
"I don't have any rules, nurse Megan. You're the one who signed that ridiculous contract."
"So, I did," I agreed. I typed the diagnosis into his chart, then closed up the laptop. "I'll spot you a few minutes if you can promise me that you'll fix something."
"What's that?" he grinned.
"It's what we've talked about before, Dan. We talked about it back when you were married to Susan. Do you remember?"
"You have me stumped. I thought I fixed everything when I got rid of her."
"Quit being a jerk. You know what I'm talking about, and it was the underlying reason that the two of you had problems."
"The underlying reason I had problems with Susan was she was a slut who couldn't leave her high school boyfriend alone."
"Which is why you were so jealous that Andy got me pregnant," I quipped.
"How would you know I was jealous?"
"Because you told me, dumb fuck. We used to sit in my kitchen and talk for hours while my hubby and all the boys watched sports in the family room... all the boys except for you. You told me lots of things that I'm sure you don't remember."
"And I massaged your swollen feet."
"Yes, you did... and I'm forever grateful for all the help and attention when I was pregnant. You would make an amazing father, Dan. That's why you need to take care of this."
