Wes is going out of town on another golfing trip this weekend.  That means he’ll be gone when I’m supposed to give him his second testosterone shot.  So we decided to do it last night.

When Wes finishes up on computer after dinner, I ask, “Are you ready?”

“No,” he replies, grimacing.  “I’m terrified.”

“Wimp,” I tease, as I follow him into the bathroom where he lays out the needles, syringe, cotton balls, alcohol, vial of testosterone, and my instructions.

“Where are you gonna do it?” he asks, as I pick up the syringe and screw off the needle.

“You know where I’m gonna do it,” I reply, rolling my eyes.  “I’m shooting you in the ass.  You’ve complained all month about how I messed up the first shot.  You think I missed the muscle in your hip.”  I grin wickedly.  “No way I can miss a muscle as BIG as your ass cheek, ya know?”

Wes shivers.  Guess I’m not putting his mind at ease.  Gee, what a surprise.  LOL

This time he helps me draw the testosterone into the syringe by holding the vial for me, which makes it sooooo much easier to handle than last time.

“Okay,” I say, flicking the syringe with my fingernail to get the last of the air bubbles out.  “Drop your pants and bend over.”

“How are you gonna do this?” he asks for the millionth time, nervously tucking a strand of long blonde hair behind his ear. 

I roll my eyes again.  “The nurse said to draw and quarter your ass cheek and then…POW!…stab it right in the middle.”

Wes groans, pulls down his sweatpants, leans over, and places his hands on the wall.

“Right here,” I say, talking to myself as I poke the middle of his cheek with my finger. 

“You’re making me crazy,” he cranks.  “Do it already!”

And that’s exactly what I do.  I wind up like I’m throwing a dart (not that I’ve EVER thrown a dart before, but I saw it once in a movie, so how hard can it be?).  Then I stab him in the ass.

This is the second time I’ve given him a shot, so the fact that a thin needle can sink into human skin with no resistance whatsoever doesn’t freak me out as much as it did the first time.  Still, it’s a Twilight-Zone experience.  Like I’m stabbing a soft blob of ice cream. 

“Ouch!” Wes screams.

“That didn’t hurt,” I say.  “You’re such a wimp.”

“Just get it overwith,” he grumbles, starting to pant.

“Good thing I lift weights,” I muse.  “It’s taking all my strength to get this stuff in you.”

The nurse warned me it would be difficult.  Testosterone is very thick, and you really have to push hard to get it through a tiny needle.

“Are you finished yet?” Wes pants, sounding kinda desperate.

“Why are you panting?” I ask, pushing hard on the plunger to shove the hormone through the needle.  “You act like you’re dying or something.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbles.

“Wimp,” I tease.

“How much longer?” he cranks.

“I’ve almost got 1 ml. in.  One more to go.”

“Is that all?!” Wes exclaims, and then groans in frustration.

Finally, I get the entire 2 mls in.  Then I pull out the needle, wipe the teeny-tiny puncture wound with a cotton ball, and slap a band-aid on his ass cheek.

“There you go,” I say.  “All done.”

“Let me outta here,” Wes demands, looking kinda green.  “I need to lie down.”

He pulls up his pants and hustles me out of the bathroom.  A few minutes later I hear him in the kitchen rummaging through the refrigerator for a snack to help him “recover.”

That night, when he comes to bed, I curl up next to him and ask, “So….you feeling horny yet?”

“No!” he shouts, narrowing his eyes.  “My ass hurts.  I’ve probably got a big bruise from that shot.”

“Aww,” I purr.  “I could kiss it and make it better….”

“Stay away from me,” he warns, chuckling as he bats my hands away from his dick.  “You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

This morning I slept in, and Wes left before I woke up.  He had an early meeting, so I texted him to see how he was doing.  Hey, even though that was only the second shot I’ve given in my entire life I think I’m getting pretty good at it, ya know?  Or at least now I know the drill.  Literally.  *wicked grin*

Anyway, when Wes answered my text he said he forgot all about the band-aid this morning, so he’s still wearing it.

See?  No pain.  No bruise.  Yeah, this once-a-month-shot thing is gonna be a piece of cake.

But don’t tell Wes.  The Big Bad Alpha might turn green and have to lie down.  ROFL!!

xoxo
Laura Stamps
The Magickal Sex Goddess
Author of Paranormal Erotica & Romance Novels
(Witches, Shapeshifters, Vampires)
laura@laurastamps.com
To read excerpts from my novels:
http://www.LauraStamps.blogspot.com
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http://www.LauraStamps.com
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This entry was posted on Friday, December 4th, 2009 at 10:28 am and is filed under Naughty Notes, Women. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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