It starts with the fact that he's cute. Then there's that he's digging around in my pelvis, plucking my groin muscles like a banjo, searching around for the exact spot that's causing me pain that's about two inches from another famously hard to find spot...
Dr. Cute: "Is it there?"
Tacohead: "Not quite. It's a little to the left, I think... just a bit more..."
Tacohead: Grunt of pain as he hits the spot
Dr. Cute: "Got it."
I think I could handle all that, I really could, if it wasn't for his coaching patter as he works out the sore spots. He usually gets us into a contorted position and has me push my leg against him in resistance as he presses his finger harder and harder into the stubborn muscle, getting it to relax and yield.
And all the while, he's saying things like:
"Come on, come on, come on, come on, you got it..."
Or:
"Right there, right there, right there, yeah, right there..."
What's a girl to do?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment