I vaguely recall waking to be given more pills and another smoothie, though I couldn't even tell you what the flavor was or even which girl fed it to me. Let that be a nugget of truth to all you women out there: even getting a blow job takes some effort. Though, admittedly, not much. Multiply "not much" by three and you have some effort.
But then, I suppose you could divide that by eight. Well, fuck math for the moment.
Why my eyelids fluttered against brightness again, I heard voices talking over me. One sounded incredibly unhappy, while the other was timid and overtly nervous.
"Miss Roarke, when I offered to come over, I was not expecting to find that his stitches would come loose. I'm a little disappointed, and more than a little curious about how this happened."
"I told you," said my daughter to the Doctor, "the bathroom, I..."
"Miss Roarke!" Doctor Andrea's tone was scathing. "This room practically reeks of sex, and I'm not a complete dolt. Your seven friends may be swimming, now, but I'm fairly certain they haven't been in the pool all day."
I had to do something, otherwise I'd end up on the 6 o'clock news... again.
"Doctor... how, um, nice to see you again." I stressed the word to let her know exactly now 'nice' it really was. I opened my eyes fully to see Molly fidgeting, wearing little more than a bikini and a silk Kimono-type-robe she'd received from Janie last Christmas. Doctor Andrea, on the other hand, looked far different than I remembered.
Maybe it was the lack of the immaculate smock. Who knows.
A statuesque woman; I was certain that if I could stand she'd be even a few inches taller than me. Well-built across the shoulders and hips, a nice pair of C-cups strained the navy fabric of her button-up shirt. Her black pencil skirt showed off amazing calves—dancer's calves, I like to call them—and she wore heels no doctor worth her salt would don for a day's work. Worse, she didn't look a day over thirty-five. In a totally, completely, absurdly different situation, I might have made a pass at her.
"Well, Mister Roarke, welcome back to the land of the living. Do you have any comment on the 'treatment' your daughter has so far subjected you to?"
I groaned as the meds did their thing, and the pain slowly seeped its way back into oblivion. Of course, that meant the side effects would return shortly. I had to get rid of this doctor, and fast.
"It's my fault," I muttered. "With all these girls around, I got... well... and I decided I didn't have anything else to do, so I..."
Doctor Andrea peeled her glasses off her face and raised an eyebrow. "You what, exactly?"
Fuck, she was really going to make me say it. "I... masturbated. That's how she found me and, I kind of... jumped... in surprise."
Look, it's one thing to admit that you masturbate. I'd be happy to tell any woman that to her face, except probably my mother—god rest her soul. Telling a quickly concocted lie that your daughter had walked in on you while you were jerking off... that's something totally different. Not to mention, this doctor was a Grade A Bitch.
Andrea peered around the room and sniffed a few times. "A likely story, I suppose. If the room smelled more of man sweat than it did of pussy, I'd even be inclined to believe you."
Molly choked. Hell, I choked. Did the doctor just say what I think she did?
"Yours isn't the first case of pain paralysis I've seen, Mister Roarke. We have nurses for this kind of thing. Your daughter should have just called me and I would have sent someone over. I can't have my patients dying just because they feel the need to jerk off."
My head spun. Did she really just imply the hospital employs quasi-prostitutes? Not that I needed more available tail running around the house, but, of course, my dick betrayed my true thoughts on the subject. It sprung to attention and I... well, I prayed that if there was justice in the world I would have a blanket over me.
Of course, I didn't. The doctor was mending my stitches, so my cock ended up pointing right at her from about two feet away. And the day had started out so well.
"Oh... oh my... Mister Roarke..."
Doctor Andrea flushed and retreated a step, her work apparently done. Oddly, the presence of my daughter in the room served to calm her down a little. She spotted the pill bottle on the nightstand and turned to Molly. "Young lady, have you been giving him the pills I prescribed?"
My daughter looked away and shook her head.
Looking closer at the label, Doctor Andrea pursed her lips in obvious disapproval. "Oh, THESE things. Good lord, one might think you actually want your father to be in this condition..." She trailed off, finally putting two and two together. "Oh my," she said again.
"It's not what you think," I said meekly, hopefully heading her mind off before she actually did think it.
"This is... rather unorthodox." Doctor Andrea apparently had a talent for understatement, herself. "Miss Roarke, am I to understand that you... You...?"
"That I what?" Molly said coyly.
After using the words she had before, I chuffed a laugh that the doctor was now at a complete loss for them.
"You... sucked your father's dick?" she finally choked out.
"Well, Ginger did it first. Then Liona, then me." She counted on her fingers as she went. "Then Janie sixty-nined him. Well, I guess Ginger again before that, then Laura, then me again."
