Status Updates From A Sticky End (Mitch Mitche...

“But McDermott,” I said, trying to sound warm and sympathetic, “if you want to live a happy married life and have children, it’s absolutely essential. It’s nothing to worry about. Just a couple of hours in surgery, and a week or so on the ward, then you’ll be as right as rain in about six months.”
“Six months?”

This is hilarious ;-))

“If I knew that you were a healthy homosexual subject, that is to say, a man who enjoys having sex with other men, I would not be so worried.” I penetrated him about an inch. “But if, as you maintain, you are interested in women, then we may have to…” I went further. “Oh, dear me. Oh. Oh dear.”
“What?”
“It’s as I feared. We will have to perform surgery.”

"Homosexuality is not, as some would have you believe, a mental or emotional deviation. It is purely physiological, of the body. Now, in a normal man, the anal sphincter goes this way.” I ran a finger around his hole in a clockwise direction. “In a homosexual subject, it goes this way.” My finger moved counterclockwise. “Yours most definitely goes this way.” I kept moving my finger.

LOL, makes perfect sense :-)))

“You have very large testicles, don’t you?” I tried to make this sound like a bad thing.
“Do I?”
“Yes. Large, pendulous testicles. This can sometimes be a sign of a much more complicated syndrome.” I took his balls in my hand. “Are they sensitive?”

This entire scene is soooo good.

“If, as you say, you are not queer, then these results may be indicative of something much more serious. Much, much more serious.”

McDermott was as white as a sheet, and sweating. I was getting hard.

“Now just drop your pants. I’ll be examining you in just a moment.”

Of course he will examine him, LOL.

I admit, you need to be in a certain mood to read James Lear. But when you are, it is just what the doctor ordered :-)))

“Am I—ill?”
“That remains to be seen, McDermott. First of all, we have to do a few simple tests.” I had a glass flask in my bag, approximately half a pint in volume. I placed this on the desk in front of him. “Do you think you could fill that for me?”
“With…with what?”
“Well I’m not asking for a flower arrangement. With urine, of course.”

A huge cock pounding in and out of your guts has a way of focusing the attention; as far as I’m concerned, it’s a more effective path to enlightenment than some of the Eastern philosophies currently advocated by sandal-wearing vegetarians in Bloomsbury.

LOL, Mitch is just insane :-)))

But there comes a time in every man’s life when he wants nothing more than to lie on his back with his legs in the air and take an enormous hard prick up his rectum, and that time had come for me.

He frowned, as if deciding whether to plant his lips on the flower or the stem—and then he pouted his mouth and placed it right on the end of my cock. It fitted neatly into the little pucker of his lips, until his lips parted in a kissing noise, and he drew back. But now we were joined by a thin, glistening string of precum that hung for a moment like a skipping rope, then snapped, leaving viscous drops on his mouth.

So far I like this better than the first two books. It's really captivating.

This is so good!!! A solid erotic mystery.

A remorseful man wouldn’t indulge in shaving and pissing and sharing his boyfriend.


LOL, a normal sentence in a James Lear book ;-)