Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Excuse me.” I get up and walk quickly to the bathroom in my office.
The minute I pull my pants down, I start scratching. It feels like my balls are on fire. I yank down my boxers and gasp out loud.
My balls have ballooned to three times their normal size. Well, one looks like it’s twice its normal size, while the other is even bigger than that. Oh my god! What the hell?! I start to panic and pull my phone out of my pocket to call John.
“You need to come to my office right now,” I demand and then hang up. I take a picture of my balls with my phone to inspect them closer.
I grimace at what I see. Holy fuck, they are huge and red, and are those bumps?
I hear John call my name. I open the door just enough to pop my head out. “Come here!”
“Ummm, no way. What the fuck, man? I thought you were in trouble,” he says and turns to walk out.
“John! Get the fuck in here,” I whisper-yell angrily through my clenched teeth.
He walks in, and I close the door as he looks down and gasps, taking in the state of my balls. “What the fuck, dude?!”
“I don’t know what’s going on! I was sitting in the meeting when I felt a prickling sensation. I thought my pants were just tight. Dude.” I look down. “My balls.”
I look up again to see that John is standing there, a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. “You need to go to the doctor. Jesus, do you think they’ll explode?” he wonders as he crouches down—a little too close considering our relationship—to get a better look.
“Get the fuck away from my balls, please,” I snap while I take my phone out and call Noah. “If anyone knows anything about this kind of thing, it’s Noah. Didn’t he get crabs from some chick in the Hamptons once?”
He answers on the first ring, “Yo,” and I put him on speaker.
“When you got crabs, did your balls swell?” I ask, closing my eyes. I haven’t had sex in about a month, so I have no idea if this is some sort of a delayed reaction.
“You have crabs?” he asks instead of answering my question.
“I have no idea. My balls are on fire and have swelled up to the size of a baseball,” I explain while I continue to scratch them.
“Don’t touch them,” John says from his side on the phone. “I’m Googling this. Can I take a picture?” he asks right before he looks up and sees the glare on my face.
“Oh, send me a picture, too,” Noah says while John continues to mess with his phone.
“It says something might have ruptured or you could have a hernia. Did you lift something heavy?” he asks while continuing to read.
“I was in a fucking meeting! I lifted a goddamn water bottle!” I look down at my balls, which seem to have gotten even bigger. “Oh my god, I think they’re getting bigger.”
“Can someone please send me a picture?” Noah begs through his laughing.
“I’m not sending you a picture of my balls, man,” I say.
“You really need to get that checked out,” John says. “I’ll call Phil, maybe he’s on duty.”
“What color are they?” Noah is still chuckling.
“Fuck you.” The itch is so bad I can’t stop scratching.
“Phil says he’s at Mercy Hospital now. If you get there in the next thirty, he can see you,” John says while he’s on the phone with Phil.
“I’ll meet you there,” Noah says, and I hang up on him.
“Will they fit back in your pants?” John is now laughing at me, too.
“Fuck you, this isn’t funny. What if they exploded inside?” I question as panic sets in, and my heart starts to beat faster. Jesus, what if I broke my dick?
I pull up my boxers then my pants, my balls protesting the constriction of my pants.
“Fuck, oh god, it hurts now,” I groan as I head out of the bathroom. I’m walking like I’m severely constipated, or worse, like I just had anal sex with a telephone pole. “Someone needs to tell Dani that I’m leaving.”
“On it,” John says, typing on his phone.
“Let’s go before someone else sees you.” We walk to the elevator as fast as we can, given my condition. When we get to Mercy, Noah is outside with a wheelchair waiting for us.
“Is this curbside service, or what!” he says, laughing at us. “Come on, big nuts, let’s get this taken care of.”
I sit down and get wheeled inside, where Phil is waiting for us. When he ushers us to a room, I expect Noah and John to wait outside. But I’m not that lucky, and I shouldn’t be at all surprised when they follow us into the exam room.
“Seriously? You guys really need to be in here?” I ask them both.