The Girl In The Striped Pajamas

You SICK people…

Having a read a few of these stories, the authors tend to begin by clarifying their position with some sort of benign platitude. The lads will generally trumpet something like “I’m not a stud but…” or “I’m just an average sized guy but…”. The girls version goes “I’ve never done anything like this before but this night…” or “I’m not the type to…”. Well I’m not going to stand on ceremony here; you’ll get no benign platitudes from me. I’d used ice cubes in bed before with girlfriends. It’s always been good. But it’s what happened after all was said and done that’s important here and the reality is, this story is just worth telling and that’s the crux and fact of it.

Porterhouse. Temple Bar. The one with the huge brass vat upstairs. A cold Sunday evening. We had arrived about an hour before she walked in, and were on the way with revelry and laughter the sounds of the night as she sat down with her friends. There were four of us, three lads and one of the lads girlfriends. My tooth had been at me for the past few days so I was knocking back the pionta’s at a rate, to help with the pain. I was going to the dentist tomorrow anyway. She was helping with the distraction too. We all have a type and she was mine in every respect. She had this hazelnut hair and smooth, tanned skin. She sat with a group of friends, resting her head on her hand delightfully as she listened and laughed with them. Each time she smiled my interested piqued and I found myself smiling too. She wore an off the shoulder white jumper which revealed a thin, hot pink bra strap. Her pale blue jeans that looked like they were tailor made for her hips and she wore a light beanie that look as if it had fallen from above and landed perfectly on her head; my type in every way.

Fast forward another hour and we’re standing at the banisters that surround the stage, watching the band having a chat. Things were going well and if I’d been asked at that point I’d have been happy with a score and a bit of touchy-feely. She was a recently qualified nurse and really good fun. Not just fun in the “I want a bit of that so everything you do I’ll laugh at to make it happen” fun, but genuinely banterful. After an hour of good craic, some kissing, with my friends lost to the night, and her pain in the arse cockblocker friend finally resigned to the idea she had decided to spend time with me, I was surprised but delighted to find myself in a taxi on the way to Ranelagh…to her house.

I’ve always found that in those situations where you know what’s about to unfold but it hasn’t started yet, a sense of nervousness takes over. I sat on the end of her bed, fidgety. She’d brought up two pints of iced water and left them on the bedside table. Off she had then gone into her ensuite. I sat nervously on the end of the bed, not wanting to do anything more than take off my shoes in case I looked too eager. She opened the bathroom door and stood there in stripped candy pyjamas, all different sorts of pink. Behind her, I could see her clothes on the floor; beanie, jeans, white top hot pink bra. Game on.

I don’t know what compelled me to do it but I’m glad I did. Reaching over I take an ice cube from one of the pint glasses and put it in my mouth. I start at her neck and come down between her breasts, avoiding nipples teasingly. After a minute or two of this, I notice her moving her breasts towards my half warm half cold trail of kisses. Taking this as cue I move suddenly to her nipples and she writhes and lets out a sound that could only be good. I spend two or three minutes teasing and running the cube over her breasts and nipples, enjoying her moving with the pleasure. A few minutes later I’ve moved all the way down and I’m finding it harder to keep doing what I’m doing because she’s moving so much. There’s a rise in volume and an arch of the back she raises herself to my tongue and the ice before dropping to the bed. She lies there quivering. My job is done and I had a great time doing it. A few minutes later and she’s got the ice in her mouth and I’m on my back enjoying her mouth and thanking whatever god you choose to believe in she brought up iced water. As the night went on she made two more trips for ice. I can advise of the following –

1-      Doggy style while running an ice cube over her back and arse is incredible

2-      Her on top while you run ice holding hands all over her is incredible

3-      Every which way you can introduce ice to the act is generally incredible

In the morning we say our goodbyes and I make sure to swap numbers. Coffee is arranged for later in the week, we have a long kiss goodbye and I’m feeling good as I strut down the Appian Way. Come a quarter to ten and I’m on the dentist’s chair being told the news that I need a filling. On you go says I as he explains the process of anaesthetising the region and filling it in with an amalgamate. He asks do I want a bit of ice on the spot before the injection as some people like it to help with the pain of the piercing of the needle? I smile fondly, and say yes. Pressing an intercom on the chair he asks a nurse to bring in some sterile ice. He’s off preparing his tools and what not when the door opens and standing there, in pink scrubs, holding a kidney dish of ice cubes smiling widely, is the girl in the stripped pyjamas…

Trick Or Threesome +18

They were in a bedroom; himself, Chris and the girl with the minstrel eyes (whose name turned out to be Niamh). Drinks had been had and the party was roaring downstairs but Chris insisted he had a surprise. Reaching into his fireman costume, he produced a small bag of white powder. At first they were cautious but eventually they went for it. “Fuck it sure, be grand.”

Within the next half an hour they were buzzed, pumped with energy. Niamh and Owen found a corner, gripping at each others’ costumes. Her cat woman leggings were in no way removable on the sly but they were too worked up to wait till later, he Hailoed a taxi and within minutes they were en route to his dorm.

The taxi ride was intense. With complete disregard for the driver, they groped at each other; her hands fumbling in his pants, his hands up her shirt and their lips exploring everywhere within a 7 inch radius of their lips. Pulling up to a halt, they paid the driver and stumbled with excitement to his door. Fumbling with his keys while she fumbled with his zipper they finally got into the apartment, kissing passionately. As he pulled away from her lips he saw her, out of the corner of his eye. Dressed in a short, fitted red dress with devil horns was Dr. Cameron. He was dumb-founded, as were the two women.

“Aren’t you in my class?” Dr. Cameron asked Niamh. She nodded. She rose to her feet and strutted towards them, “I’d know that ass anywhere.” she whispered as she slid her hand down the middle of her leather leggings, her breathe warm on Niamh’s neck. Turning to face her, their lips brushed. They kissed softly, her grip tightening on Niamh’s ass while Niamh’s hands lifted to her chest and she could feel her leather leggings getting wetter and wetter. The girls kissed and played with each other, until Dr. Cameron turned to Owen and asked him to join in. He stood behind Niamh, kissed her neck and felt her body.

Dr. Cameron dropped to her knees and finished unzipping his pants, taking his dick out she started to suck it while he kissed Niamh. Niamh then reached down to Dr. Cameron’s exposed ass that was sticking out of her short dress and started to finger her from behind. Then she too dropped to her knees and shared Owen’s dick. Dr. Cameron lay on her back and Niamh got on top of her and played with her tits. Owen pulled her leggings off; the kinky bitch wasn’t wearing any underwear. He then mounted her and started to fuck her from behind while she fingered Dr. Cameron. Placing her hand on Niamh’s head, she guided her down and encouraged her to lick her pussy. Owen stood up and went to Dr. Cameron’s head, lowering his cock into her mouth. Niamh got up, spread her legs and pulled Dr. Cameron’s head between them. Owen proceeded to fuck Cameron while she licked Niamh’s clit.

Moving to the bedroom, Owen lay on the bed. The girls shared his dick before they started to 69. Owen got so turned on by this he started stroking himself. Niamh’s clit began to swell as she felt the walls of her pussy quiver, Dr. Cameron grinded her clit into Niamh’s tongue aggressively, turning to Owen and ordering him to fuck her. He mounted her from behind, dipping his cock into her wet pussy, his balls occasionally coming into contact with Niamh’s soft tongue. Picking up the pace and moaning in harmony, Owen’s thrusts came deeper and harder, forcing Dr. Cameron to lick Niamh’s pussy harder and faster. Cumming hard and fast, they collapsed on top of each other, breathing heavily and fully satiated.

Breakup 101: ‘It’s not you, It’s me’

They’re avoiding eye contact and they’ve been doing it the whole night. You feel disconnected from them and you know deep down something’s ‘off’ but you’re pretending like you don’t notice. The conversation keeps leading back to the tornado that is your relationship (which prior to this evening you would have described as a peaceful lake). With her teary eyes and puffy lips she begins telling you “this isn’t working” and asking if “you’re happy”. And just like that, the cruel mistress that is reality comes crashing down and you realize, oh fuck she just dumped your sorry ass. It’s cool, don’t worry, it happens to the best of us and this is what you should do…

1) Talk it out.

An important step towards closure is saying everything that you need to say. She or He is giving you the classic breakup speech and you have nothing better to say than “oh wow”. This is the perfect opportunity to empty out your thoughts towards that person. Say you love them, tell them they suck for what they’re doing and how much that shit is hurting you. And I know it sounds pathetic (and believe me it is) but it’s also important that they know your final thoughts on the whole thing. If you want to move on quickly you need to have little to no regrets, so pour out your little broken heart and walk away feeling sad but also free. Don’t hold back.

2) Cry Like a Baby.

I can already picture guys reading this like- “Pfft what? I ain’t gonna cry, that shit’s for pussies”. Homie you and I both know I saw you crying at Toy Story 3 when they were in the furnace, you’re full of it mate. And that’s what you need to do; it will honestly make you feel better. Just put Demi Lovato ‘Skyscraper’ on repeat, sing along till you know every single word and till you’ve mastered the song to the point where you’re even sounding better than her. Cry you little bish, let it out.

3) Talk To People.

If you’re close with your parents feel free to go to them, but I would suggest going to your friends. They probably won’t get into the nitty gritty of your deep feelings etc.. but what they will do is lampoon the person who dumped you. They will insult them, they will bring up every flaw they have and use it as a weapon against her. In all honestly it’s fairly mean, but it’s exactly what you need in that moment. It doesn’t even have to be true, but soon after you’ll find yourself joining in with the defamation of her character and this person who you once saw as perfect starts to seem pretty flawed.

4) Rebound.

Will a rebound replace the missing pieces she took when she left? Course not, don’t be an idiot. But it’s a win; it’s something you need. It’s the first step taken towards the gradual process of moving on. You’re tongue is in someone else’s mouth and where’s her tongue? Pfft prolly eating some ice cream as she cries only now realizing what a catch you are.

5) Distance Yourself.

It’s hard to move on from someone if everywhere you look, you’re reminded off them. Get rid of ALL their stuff; contact her and let her know that one of your boys is going to go drop a box of her things to her house. Delete her number, unfollow that twitter and turn off chat specifically for her on Facebook. Once again, not one of the most classy or mature moves, but it’ll make your steps towards recovery a lot easier.

6) Watch Rom-Coms.

Of course you’re going to see her; me and you both knew this was coming don’t act so surprised. It’s okay, just play it cool yeah? “AGH I still love you “… well look at that, you’ve just gone and fucked it up. At this point, you’re going to want reminisce about all the good times you had and the feelings and all that shit but don’t, I repeat DON’T, involve her in this process. Don’t look at old messages, don’t look at old pictures and don’t call her. Relive those same feelings through films, where you can feel those emotions but you’re disconnected from the experience. You can reminisce but minimize your pain by so much. I personally would suggest Moonrise Kingdom for this very action…and believe me, you will once again cry your eyes out.

7) Have An Emotional Epiphany.

You’re ready, you’ve been prepping for this very event and now it’s time for your emotional epiphany. Get lost in yourself, maybe read a couple John Green books (I’ve read 1 and a half and have basically become a master of emotions), or maybe just sit in your room and think. Just as the pit of darkness you’re in seems endless, you’ll spot a something; that my friend is enlightenment. You’re a pretty awesome person and you’ll move past this, you won’t let this destroy. Time heals all wounds and you’ve noticed that everyday it hurts just that little bit less. You’re not 100% over it and you won’t be for a long time, but you’re okay, you’re happy. You see her walking around college and you’re not filled to the brim with despair. Maybe you can be friends now or maybe you want nothing to do with her, that’s a question to ask for another day. You’ve officially moved on.

You Can Talk About Anything: 14 Signs You’re In The Right Relationship

Relationships are tricky under any circumstances. But when you find the right one, you just know. They’re your best friend and your other half. You can talk about anything and just sit around doing nothing together. Pure bliss. Here’s the 14 signs you’re in the right relationship.

1) You can make each other laugh.

Full on. Tears streaming down your face, gasping for breath, ugly crying, laughter. You could have laughing fits for over 10 minutes together about absolutely nothing.

2) You can slag each other without offending them.

Just like you would with your best friend, you can slag them so much it would be offensive to anyone else.

3) There’s never an awkward silence.

You could sit together and say nothing for days. Doesn’t bother you at all.

4) You still tease and flirt with each other.

You flirt with each other like you’ve only met. The spark lives on!

5) You can fart in front of him.

That’s true love, right there.

6) You will always try and cheer each other up.

When one of you isn’t feeling that great you’ll drop all your plans and hang out with them just to make sure they’re okay. So sweet.

7) He brings you chocolate when you’re PMSing.

He’s not disgusted by the word “period” (or maybe he is but he doesn’t show it). He rolls with your mood swings and soothes you with sweets and back rubs.

8) “Netflix and chill” actually means Netflix and chill.

There’s no code names here. When you say “Netflix and chill” you mean get out the matching onesies and watch 3 seasons of Breaking Bad.

9) You each have your own friends and shared friends.

He has his friends, she has her friends and you both have a group of mutual friends. You both understand that you have to spend time with your own friends every once in a while. You’ve got each others back.

10) You have differences that aren’t that big of a deal.

Your opinions differ on countless things but you listen to each other and try to grasp their point of view. (Even if it’s definitely, absolutely 100% wrong.)

11) Your sexy time is great.

It always has been and it always will be. End of.

12) You never fight over stupid things.

Yeah you fight, everyone does. But it’s never about him liking some bitches Instagram. Get over yourself.

13) You make a good team.

You have this un-established rhythm that just naturally materialised.

14) You can talk about ANYTHING.

No topic is too taboo. Poo, fetishes, porn. Bring it on

EKO HOSPITAL, A BUILDING OF DEATHS? (Very Sad Experience)

Sent in by blog reader

“This piece is a hard one for me to write, hard and very difficult. As I write this, I am filled with deep sorrow for what could have been that was not. This piece is not intended to do anything but to warn unsuspecting members of the public. A warning that is necessary at this time because “evil deeds thrive when good men do nothing”

My discourse is centered on the level of mismanagement, inefficiency and a total lack of respect for life exhibited by management and staff of EKO Hospital on Mobolaji Bank Anthony Way, Ikeja.

My friend’s wife, Dolapo, a young mother of 2 boys, with a promising banking career with Wema bank, pregnant with the 3rd child had complained of leg pains to her husband on Tuesday, March 31, 2015. Her husband took her to the EKO Hospital for treatment (their registered HMO provider), they were told that the leg pains were normal for pregnant women at her stage and were subsequently given some paracetamol tablets to use.

Getting home, the pains did not subside, in fact, it grew worse. It got to a point that she could not walk with the legs on her own. The husband had no choice but to return to the hospital on Friday April 3, 2015 at around 3pm when it was obvious things were not getting better.  At that point, The doctor on duty advised them to wait for the consultant and Dolapo was made to sit out the ‘’wait’’ in a wheelchair as her legs could no longer support and carry her, in any case the consultant did not show up until Saturday afternoon being 04/04/2015. She repeatedly beckoned on the staff on duty to perform a CS and safely get the baby out as she could sense and feel that something was ominously wrong.  The pregnancy was well into 8 months. Some scan were recommended and the person to conduct the scan had reportedly closed for the day and  only surfaced at about 9pm on Friday and the wait dragged well into the night.

Dolapo was in pains on the wheel chair, she was being moved from her ward to the scanning room when the head of the baby came out on the wheel chair, her husband screamed and rushed her quickly into the elevator, yes, ELEVATOR!!. The baby could not stand the trauma, he came out in transit, right there in the elevator. A nurse had to hold the baby’s head, supporting it while the elevator goes to labour theatre, the baby was pulled out before they could make it to the theatre. This was at 9.30pm on Friday. The baby became the centre of attention for the hospital staff of Duty while neglecting  Dolapo all alone for more than 1 hr 30 mins while they attended to the baby to revive him.

She was left unattended to, in pains, right there in the theatre. She was eventually moved back to her ward. The consultant eventually turned up around 4pm on Saturday. The husband engaged him and he requested that some tests be done to ascertain what level of treatment or care to give. He was told she (the wife) would be fine and the test results would be ready by Tuesday because of the holidays.

On Sunday, April 5, 2015,  at about 8am in the morning, I visited her in the hospital and sat beside her on the bed offering words of encouragements. She was still in pains, and she was hardly audible, she could only answer in nods and made attempts at a faint smile to reassure myself and her husband that she would be fine.

It came as a rude shock when I called the husband at about 12 pm and he was crying profusely, saying Dolapo is lying down lifeless and that I should please pray. I was to say the least devastated, I was asking loads and loads of questions and he kept saying please pray, pray.

I got to the hospital to meet the lifeless body on the bed, she was dead! What happened? How did this happen? Nobody could offer any explanation. There was no doctor around, I asked the nurse on duty and she just said she is dead. I recalled she was eating when I left earlier, how could she have  gone from eating to being dead in less than 3 hrs?

The husband told me she was given an injection to suppress the pains on her leg and immediately started gasping for breath, oxygen tanks were brought in to revive her but it was too late. She was gone before anything could be done.

The body was left in the room for more than 24 hours, several prayer sessions were held to bring her back to life. In the more than 24 hrs period after her death, no doctor from EKO Hospital came out to say this was what happened. No personnel came around to ask people to leave the room, the body was not covered nor washed. It was simply business as usual for them.

It was normal for someone to give birth and die? The Medical Director of the hospital did not deem it fit to offer explanation or even try to prevail on the family to leave the body so that necessary medical procedures could be done.

I will leave my readers to ask questions from this write up, perhaps, I am being too expectant, maybe too optimistic about my expectations from a Hospital as reputable as EKO Hospital!

The family has accepted their fate and decided to move on…. But should we move on? Should we just accept this as normal? I was talking to a friend in my office yesterday and was shocked when he informed me that his wife also died in this same EKO Hospital some 6 years back and the same treatment was meted out on him!

Please pass this story around, let people know what is going on, don’t stop until it gets to the right quarters where something could be done to save others and get doctors and hospitals to be more responsive to their duties of saving lives and not taking lives. Dolapo is gone but who knows who will be next?????”

The Mechanic (+18)

I cannot believe this, what do I do? Jesus! How do I resolve this?!  Right now?! Really!!!!

Eno found it difficult to think in her high state, She sat in the car confused, tried to start the car again, no luck. Eno got out of the car terrified, it was 11:45PM, she paced back and forth as cars sped off past her. She pulled a lever inside the car to open up the bonnet and see if she can fiddle with something under the hood that can help her start the car.

As she stood on the bridge in her tight short black leather dress, she noticed how it seemed like the bridge was moving beneath her, sort of a slow bounce, this isn’t the alcohol, she told herself.

People had always told her they had that kind of experience on third mainland bridge but she never experienced it before, she went back into the car and locked herself in. If only she wasn’t so wasted, she would know what to do right now. What to do! What to do!! She spoke to herself softly.

Call Marouf!! A bright bulb light up in her head.

Seems like the only thing to do right now, he is her trusted mechanic, some athletic middle-aged short Ijebu boy. It’s too late to call but there isn’t any other option, she said to herself. She picked up her phone and dialled Marouf, he picked up at the fourth ring after the third try to call his phone, horrible network on the bridge.

‘Aunty Eno’, Marouf said. The background music was almost deafening, seemed like Marouf was at a party.

‘Marouf, the car don spoil for third mainland bridge o’ She said without any atom of ‘poshness’ in her which she really did

‘Ohooooo Aunty! I dey party for Obalende, I dey enjoy myself’ He said

‘Come jo! You know say I be woman, before all these area boys go come’ Eno tried to threaten him

‘Wetin I go tell awon aye wey we dey together, Aunty ? ’ Marouf asked with an hysterical laugh

‘Come jo! I dey that side after that Yaba turn! Do quick jo’ Eno said

‘If dem rob or rape me, na you I go use Police catch o’ Eno continued.

‘I don dey come, Aunty Eno’

She cut the phone, anticipating the arrival of Marouf that seemed to take forever. She looked around, making sure that all her doors are locked tight and none of the windows are down.

Her mind drifted back to the dance with Bode, her friend’s colleague, that boy can grind someone into orgasm was her thought when she saw the light of a danfo bus parking behind her from the inner mirror, Some guy in a tight-fitting outfit came out and the bus disappeared.

The guy came close to her window and knocked, she looked up scared only to find out that it was Marouf standing there. She seemed very happy to see him, she came out and almost hugged him.

‘You be yeye” Eno said to Marouf  jokingly ‘You come tey like that, for say armed robbers don come rob me nko’ She continued.

‘Aunty nothing go happen jo, Police dey for there na’ Marouf replied pointing down the bridge.

Marouf seem fitter today, although artisan are almost as ripped as sports people, she thought, it must be his body hug shirt.

‘Aunty, open the bonnet’ Marouf said moving towards the front of the car.

‘I don open am since’ Eno replied

Marouf opened the bonnet and fiddled around the battery head, asked her to try to start it again, she did and the engine roared back to live.

She screamed out of excitement and ran towards Marouf, giving him a full body hug and in return Marouf grabbed a decent chunk of her ass, she ignored like she dint know what he did.

‘Wetin happen na, wetin do the car, wetin you touch?’ Eno had 1001 questions for Marouf except for the ass grab which she felt ticklish and kind of liked.

‘Na the battery head dey shake, e be like when you dey enter gallop na him e comot’ Marouf tried to explain.

She moved beside him to see where he was pointing, as she looked downward, the full light of the car shone bright against Marouf’s inner thighs, and it kinda seemed like he had a big cucumber in his pocket.

She screamed Jesus at the sight but Marouf thought she was talking about the battery head not been tight enough. He promised to help her to do it well next day,

‘You go follow me reach Magodo abi’ Eno asked Marouf.

‘I go drop for road, make I go meet my wife for Mowe’ Marouf replied

‘Morning don reach, na after 1 we dey now, sleep for my parlour,tomorrow morning you go comot’ Enoh offered.

‘Aunty! No! I need to see Iya Bose this night o, wetin dey my body no good o’ Marouf joked

‘You go hold am reach tomorrow na’ Enoh replied.

‘Come drive, make we dey go my house abeg, I no dey talk, I wan sleep’ Enoh said

Marouf zoomed off, as they sped the rest of the way to Magodo, Eno’s house.

Eno opened the door, went straight into her bedroom leaving Marouf in the living room. She took a while, to take off the dress, yank off her everything, go in for a small bath, the hot water couldn’t wash away the grind from her body, the body still wanted to feel more, riding a hard dick wouldn’t be a bad idea. Something hard and long that can make her cum as many times as possible, that would crown the night decently.

She came out of the bathroom, put on a jalabia with absolutely nothing underneath, her nipples rubbing softly against the material of the gown, her pussy feeling slightly wet, she couldn’t shake off the horniness.

As she entered the living room to give Marouf a pillow and soft material to cover himself with, she found him boxer alone, snoring away on her couch, with the boxer not able to adequately house his dick, the tip of the dick peeping out of the short, looking closely the dick seem to be semi-erect.

She sat opposite him, pulled up the flowing garment up to her belly, spread her leg wide, rubbing her pussy softly, as she looked at the dick, imagining riding it, masturbating at the sight of Marouf’s large dick. She separated the pussy with 2 fingers, put saliva on her fingers and rubbed it over clitoris, gently, the feeling was it, she took a long breathe as the sweet feeling invaded her brain, she went a bit further, head backwards, 2 fingers into her own pussy, probing deep but not deep enough to satisfy her urge, no need for a dildo since a live one was here.

Marouf was still asleep, snoring like no man’s business, his dick seem to get bigger and bigger, he was probably having a wet dream. She mustered enough courage, knelt infront of him, caressed the dick softly brushing her hand against the tip of the dick, like someone pampering a dog, marvelling at the share size of his manhood.

She held it around the centre, tried to make it stand straight, the boxer kept interrupting the movement, she laid it back and dragged the top of the short down to free the dick. She had a feeling Marouf was awake now but he was enjoying it way too much, so she continued.

The pussy rub got her thoroughly wet, she squatted infront of his thigh, holding the dick at its base, as she lowered her pussy into the dick, looked like the penetration took forever, as the dick found its way into the inner trenches of her pussy, she continued to take deep breathes until she felt the dick hit that spot, then she let go.

The thrust started slowly, as pussy was trying to get used to this monstrosity in Marouf’s inner thighs. Marouf stretched his leg further, as she continued to pick up pace, slowly moans began to escape from Eno’s mouth. Marouf opened his eyes, to see Enoh riding his dick not so conveniently while her eyes were almost shut, he adjusted a bit as he bent forward a bit have a feel for those boobs that always stared back at him in her famous open chested tops.

He adjusted and she stood up, and slept on the soft rug, held out his hands, she straddled him in the middle, with more space to play with, as she settled in comfortably on the dick, he pushed up the garment, Eno took it off completely. Finally staring at him is the evenly toned big boobs with cute nipples. He covered his hand with her boobs as she shifted back and forth on the dick, the feeling for her was to die for at the present minute.

The brushing of her knees against the rug will definitely cause a burn on her knee but that’s a discussion for another day, Marouf’s dick was making more sense this instant. Feeling like he wasn’t getting any of the action, held her waist up with his big strong hands, hitting it from underneath her.

She was very impressed with the athleticism he was displaying, his waist continued pumping up into her pussy, the big dick is awesome once you get used to it, she told herself.

He made her get up, kneel down with her ass facing him, her chest on the soft cushion of her couch. He began to pummel into her from behind, it was like a machine, the sweat started pouring in, the excitement, doubled, tripled, the dick was hitting more than the right spot, she kept cumming.

She began wailing, laughing and screaming, all three in no particular order, tears streaming down her face. The dick was fucking on point,

‘Baby! Don’t stop’

She can’t remember when the mechanic Marouf became baby but it was definitely the good dick in effect.

‘Fuck that pussy like you own it’

Eno was on another level, the dick was making her speak in different kinds of tongue, Marouf was a lot stronger, he kept pummelling her with strength, zeal and vigour, consistent hard strokes, pinning her down by the hips.

Marouf was punishing her for all those times she gave him hard-ons when she came to service her car. His grunt as he was about to cum was something from Animal Planet station, he pushed it in the longest it could go, dumped a load of semen into her, she screamed as he screamed because that last thrust seemed like she got a small tear from that.

He collapsed onto the rug, completely drenched with her body fluid all over his dick, she clinged unto him, plugged his dick into her pussy, sleeping off in the process. Tomorrow, she will worry about why she fucked her mechanic, when the mechanic became baby and most importantly, if she will be having a child for her mechanic.

My life as a Doctor ...... the way I see it

I met a young doctor who used to work under me recently. I had just completed my night rounds in the hospital and I was leaving for home.

And then I saw him. He was unkempt, exhausted and appeared famished. Worst of all, he looked like a man who has totally given up on being a doctor. He appeared hesitant when I asked him what was wrong, but I could not just leave him there.

After much persuasion and insistence on my part he agreed to join me for a late supper. While he ravaged through his first proper meal of the day, he finally opened up. He has started working for the past week in a new speciality. Though the hours are longer, it was not an issue. He was well aware of the sacrifices he was expected to make.

However, the degradation, humiliation and constant harassment have finally taken their toll. He was literally chased out of the ward just minutes before he met me because he could not remember the details of a patient he clerked. He was not allowed to refer to his notes and had to recite the lab results by heart like a trained poodle. The words were abusive, hurtful and condescending. And worst of all, it was said right in front of the patient.

He finished his meal and stood up to leave. And as he left he said this “Please don’t worry about me. I will be fine”. I was not convinced. The shame of being publicly humiliated is not a stain that washes easily.

The doctor-patient relationship often takes centre stage, but the epitome of good clinical practice depends on how the doctors treat each other. The medical profession is filled with fragile and vulnerable egos that often have trouble working with each other in a genuine collaboration of trust and mutual respect.

We complain, argue, fight and obsess for the sake of our patients, but do we dare reflect for even an iota of moment our actions and attitude towards our fellow caregivers?

So what went wrong in the noblest of professions and how do we fix it?

Stop the stereotyping of doctors 

“The surgeon knows nothing and does everything. The physician knows everything and does nothing. The psychiatrist knows nothing and does nothing. The pathologist knows everything, but always a week too late”.

“Surgeons are egomaniacs, anaesthesiologists are lazy, orthopaedic surgeons are meatheads, obstetricians are mean and brain surgeons think they are God”

There isn’t a single medical speciality that has not been ripped apart and ridiculed.

As I continue to mature and evolve in clinical practice I have encountered a variety of doctors. And most of them share a common trait.  They live under a grand delusion that their speciality is the only one that matters and worth doing. They have strong negative feelings about doctors who have chosen a different career path and have a deep seated urge to insult them at every opportunity they get.

This has to stop. Every facet of medicine is equally important.

As a cardiologist to be I depend on the primary care physicians to detect and refer their patients to me early for cardiac interventions. It would be near impossible for me to screen all the patients with coronary artery disease in the population. I lean heavily on the cardiac surgeons for cases not amenable to minimally invasive interventions. The endocrinologists help us manage the difficult diabetics who need expert fine tuning of their insulin regimes. The emergency physicians are crucial front liners in diagnosing acute cases and stabilizing them prior to sending them to the cardiac care unit. The intensive care specialists help us manage the ventilated patients and are crucial to the running of our cardiology services.

Every single doctor provides an important aspect of patient care which complements the work of the other. We work like a grand complex machine where every part is imperative to the running of sound and safe clinical practice.  We are all equally important. And that is the often forgotten ‘stereotype’.

You don’t need to criticize or challenge other doctors to earn respect 

I read an article recently where a rival oncologist told the parents of a young patient with incurable cancer that he could have saved her life had she been brought to him earlier. He completely disregarded the considered opinion made by the oncologist who actually managed the patient from the beginning. His actions were borne without actually consulting the managing oncologist and in that one frivolous statement completely shattered  the foundation of trust the parents had on the treating team. This unnecessary disagreement between doctors often compromises the best interest of the patient.

Rival doctors often spread malicious lies about their colleagues. I have a friend who works in an established private centre and a rival cardiologist once told one of his patients that “he was a far more brilliant cardiologist” and that my friend was less experienced than he was.

Another surgeon told personal details about another doctor to his patients including mistakes he made as an intern and his unfortunate marital problems. 

Just recently I overheard a junior doctor thrashing his ward colleague in front of the nurse’s station. He knew I was within earshot and yet continued to speak ill of his colleague who happens to be a trustworthy, humble and talented doctor.

This leads to lack of trust between doctors and dents one’s reputation. A patient is unlikely to respect a doctor who openly criticizes another and may feel threatened you would do the same to them. 

Bullying is not a necessary evil for training doctors 

One of my mentors told me prior to my training as a physician that one of the most important attribute I was expected to develop was a thick skin to criticism and condescension.

Each doctor invariably undergoes a different form of bullying throughout a long career. It can be as subtle as denying one the privilege of referring to a patient’s note while presenting a case just seen barely fifteen minutes ago amid a flurry of admission. Or it can be downright humiliating like being called ‘stupid’ and ‘incompetent’ during morning rounds for an incorrect answer.

I have seen senior surgeons screaming at their residents and interns during surgery for seemingly simple or negligible errors. Every small mistake during surgery is magnified out of proportion and a running commentary will follow suit on how the doctor ‘does not have what it takes to be a good surgeon’.

Physicians are often in a foul mood early in the morning if the lab results are not available on time although the interns would have personally delivered the blood samples to the lab technicians. The interns will face the brunt of their anger knowing full well they did nothing wrong.

Radiologist are often condescending when interns request for an emergency CT scan as they are an easier target compared to the senior consultant whose orders the interns are carrying out.

Family physicians and general practitioners are often the object of irate registrars and consultants who feel they contribute nothing to proper patient care not realizing the crucial role these primary care physicians play in screening patients prior to sending them to tertiary care.

A paediatrician may swear at a doctor for missing an intravenous cannulation on a preterm neonate and then adopt a serene demeanour when facing the parents of the child.

We often excuse doctors who are bullies because they are ‘great with patients’ and are ‘brilliant clinicians’ or ‘gifted surgeons’. This hurts the profession more than you can imagine.

Doctors trained in this hostile environment will foster deep resentment towards their peers. It becomes ingrained in their psyche. Once they get better and more confident they will develop the same impatience that was shown to them towards their junior doctors. And they will in turn become the very bullies they once despised.

This never ending vicious cycle will continue and the interns will mature into senior doctors thinking that bullying and condescension is a necessary tool for training doctors. 

Bullies are cowards. Period. There is no way we can justify the actions of those who continuously seek ways to make the lives of others miserable. Since bullies only respond to strength, the medical hierarchy should start becoming much stronger. Cultures that shun the bullies making them look weak instead of the recipient should be fostered. This is easier said than done as the bullies often sit at the top of the food chain but cultures change because people are committed and steadfast in changing them.

Good and honest communication saves lives 

Newly minted doctors need proper training to become competent and safe. They should be encouraged to ask questions and any uncertainty regarding a patient’s management will be cleared during the rounds. The young doctors learn by observing the intricate process of decision making that goes into managing a patient and in time they will become better clinicians.

Suppose a senior registrar or a consultant barks at every question as it is a ‘waste of his precious time’ or that ‘you are supposed to know this’. The junior doctors will hold back their questions or doubts for they are preoccupied with fear of appearing incompetent or lazy. They fall into the trap of placing emphasis on trying to save face and look like they know what they are doing at all times rather than admitting ignorance.

The interns will dread the clinical rounds and will only perform the most basic of duties such as tracing the lab results, writing the discharge summary and updating the progress notes. They will immerse themselves in paperwork and avoid spending time preparing for clinical rounds.

Since the interns and junior doctors are often the ones manning the wards after clinical rounds while the consultants and registrars are engaged in the busy clinics, subtle deterioration in a patient’s clinical condition can go unnoticed. The interns who lack proper clinical training to detect such dangers or even the ones who may suspect something wrong but hold back in apprehension out of creating a false alarm, may not alert the senior doctors until its too late.

The patient’s care is severely compromised and the interns will retreat further into their shell as they will be blamed for this unfortunate event. If the interns try to defend themselves and argue back, they will be blackballed throughout their career in medical practice and labelled for insubordination. 

And shame does not encourage improvement. The culture of blame and punishment fosters more mistakes and fatalities. Doctors do not report their errors for fear of retribution.

And our mistakes will work its way down to affect the patient’s lives.

The  doctor-patient relationship paradigm depends closely on the doctor-doctor relationship. Bad and damaging cultures foster a hostile atmosphere that erodes trust, tarnishes good communication and promotes disrespect within the medical community. The role doctors play in harming each other ubiquitously affects the patient’s care, however unintentionally. 

If we work in an environment where we are kind, tolerant and respectful of each other, we will in turn be more humane to our patients. Young doctors will be nurtured in system that is steeped in kindness and compassion and they in turn will become sound clinicians who resonate the same values. 

It is, as Plato once said “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle”.