Just so you know, guys aren't entirely BSing you about having a case of the blue balls if completion isn't reached, though it's hardlya life-threatening level of discomfort. And tends to go away after a while.

Yeah, it can get a little uncomfortable having an erection for a long stretch with no relief.

I was amused how Mrs. Kent took time to sterilize the blade that her husband used to fish the only-thing-that-can-hurt-him out of their invunerable son.

Well, "better to be safe than sorry" parenting takes over in crisis.

It might have been a habit. With their history of medical crises and financial problems, she probably had do some doctoring herself in the kitchen.

I would like to add that the writer of the badfic could well be a teenager. If a grown up Ray is still using the bathroom as his primary pleasuring center? Repressed much?

Unless Ray is sharing his bedroom with his family, there are really more comfortable ways to relieve the tension.

IJS.

I'd guess the writer of the fanfic is a teenage girl whose knowledge of male genitalia comes from nicking her mother's Playgirls and reading her friends' badfic.

The line about "his new porcelain lover, the toilet" gave me the best laugh I've had all day.

From the sound of this particular badfic, the writter must come from an alien species that's had no firsthand experience with sexual activity of any sort.

I would like to add that the writer of the badfic could well be a teenager. If a grown up Ray is still using the bathroom as his primary pleasuring center? Repressed much?

Word to that, Daniel. While I have spent occasional stretches living on someone's couch, I've pretty much had my own private room in which to get all cozy and comfortable with myself, more or less since adulthood.

I've pretty much had my own private room in which to get all cozy and comfortable with myself, more or less since adulthood.

Heh. This kind of reminds me of the sort of line Bob Hope used to get in the movies, "I'll have you know I've been dressing myself since I was 32!"

Then again, if, as the story seems to be saying, Ray's libido has run amok to the point that he's no longer able to use self-control regarding expression of same... perhaps retiring to a room with a tile floor, ceramic furnishings, and a readily available shower is wise after all.

This discussion takes me back to the days when I had two roommates and one hour each week (11pm to midnight Fridays) when neither would be home. Phone calls and requests to give friends rides home from work were not well received in that hour.