My Wish

Dr. Cox raised his eyebrows and looked at me expectantly, almost daringly.

Ok, he’s clearly kidding. There’s no way he’d actually expect you to pull out your…let alone want to pull out his… He’s definitely kidding. Try laughing, but make it sound natural.

………………..

Abort! He’s glaring at you.. That’s a ‘no’ on the laughing. Why are you still laughing? Stop laughing! Stop thinking the word “laughing!” Alright, so he’s not kidding. Maybe he’s calling your bluff.

“And before you ask: no, I’m not trying to call your bluff. I’d dead-serious, Melinda. Unless, of course, you want to spoon with what I can only imagine is a 20-year old dead dog.” Dr. Cox looked like he was ready to throw me out of the room before I could get a chance to chicken out.

“Rowdy’s got the body of a four year-old.” He merely snarled in response.

“Let’s get moving on this. I need to get my eight hours. You don’t think I get to be this stunningly handsome by chance do you? You know what, never mind. I do. God help me, I do. I’m a sexy beast.”

He’s gazing at himself in your mirror. Take this opportunity to change the subject!

“You know, Dr. Cox, the game’s on.” Good call! Distract him!

“And what game would that be?” He didn’t even turn from the mirror.

“The game with….the players? Of…the team you like?” Damn it! I knew my disturbingly feminine lack of sports knowledge would bite me in the ass!

“Time’s up, kid.” He finally dragged himself away from the mirror to stand directly in front of me. His….he was directly in line with my face. Don’t look at it, but don’t make it obvious that you’re trying to look away! “Oh, don’t tell me that this makes you uncomfortable, Tiffany. I mean, I know you’ve probably never had the pleasure of seeing a man’s ‘love pole,’ and I know your mother probably told you that if you saw one that no man would ever marry you, but, really, it’s not going to kill you. Stop looking at me with those doe-eyes. Ya look like a damn Betty Boop doll. Oh for God’s sakes; here. I’ll go first.” With that, he took a few steps back and unzipped his fly, stretching his torso to get some leverage before he pulled—well, guided, really—his…Mini Cox…out of his fly.

Ok, it’s not huge, but it’s not tiny, either. It’s actually kind of…nice-looking. Don’t think that! What’s wrong with you! And don’t, for the love of god, think about how inappropriate it is for your boss to be making you do this! Or, how he’s now staring at your crotch.

Dr. Cox was, indeed, staring at my fly. The weird thing was, he was looking at it like he was trying to figure something out in his head.

“Hippity hop to the barbershop, Clarabelle. Take it out. You do have one, don’t you? Here I’ve been calling you girls’ names, but you don’t actually have girl parts, do you?” Hell, no.

“Hell, no.”

Alright, calm down. Deep breaths. You know Mr. Peep hides when he’s nervous. Just ease him on out. There we go. He’s out! He’s out! And… Dr. Cox is still staring.

“Well, looky-loo there, Newbie. It’s going to be too close to call. We’re going to have to actually measure them.” He looked almost proud of me as he started glancing around for something to use. His roving eyes were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Hey, JD, are you alright in there, man? It’s been really quiet. Did Dr. Cox kill you?” Dr. Cox raised his eyebrows at me silently.

“Everyone’s fine in here. No one’s naked!” Damnit!
The look Dr. Cox gave me was a mix of anger, disbelief….and anger. I looked down to avoid his glare. Whoa! Can’t look there, can we?

“Ooook then. Me and Rowdy are gonna watch Cheers out here, if you want to come out when Dr. Cox is done not-nakedly killing you.” When Turk had moved away from the door, Dr. Cox growled at me.

“You will pay for that later. Now, what do you have in this Disney Princess bedroom that we can use to measure your toddler-sized wee-wee and my massively impressive manhood?”

I crossed my room as gracefully as I could with Mr. Peep hanging out, and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Dr. Cox nodded when I returned.

“That’s a good lapdog. We’ll hold the paper up and mark where…we….end up.” Was it me or did he look uncomfortable? He grabbed the paper from me with a “hmph.”

“Um, Dr. Cox? How are we going to hold the pen and paper and still hold…it out to full length to measure?” That’s not a happy look. There goes his forehead vein.

“Fine. You can hold yourself out to all your two and a half inch glory, and I’ll mark the paper. Ok?” He didn’t look like it was okay at all.

“Oh, no, I don’t trust you not to cheat.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a big mistake. I could see his pupils dilate. He cracked his neck. He narrowed his eyes. I wondered if this would be my out; maybe he’d give up and leave now. Dr. Cox took a giant breath before he spoke:

“I’m now going to say something to you I’ve never had to say to anyone before, ever. I will hold your penis, but there will be no talking, no moving, no breathing, and no looking me in the eye. I’m not cuddling you afterward, and I’m not buying you breakfast in the morning. Are. We. Clear?”

I hoped that he saw me nod, although he didn’t seem to look at me. His hand stopped and started a few times before I saw him swallow once. He put his hand under Mr. Peep and lifted him up so I could hold up the paper.

I’d like to think that what happened next was because I hadn’t had sex in months, or because I’d focused so hard on not looking at him that I’d actually made my brain think it was Nurse Tisdale’s thumb on my special spot. Ultimately, it didn’t matter why it happened, because as soon as I felt it happen, I knew I was dead.

After the longest silence in history, Dr. Cox finally raised his head up to look me in the eye.

“Well look what we have here.”

Oh no.