"But its healing well," he said looking at his monitor."About my memories doc?" I asked."Don't expect any changes," he said. "A part of your brain is ...amaged and it will not repair itself." Oh," I said, trying to look worried."But on the bright side," he laughed. "You have plenty more brain cells left, more than enough to last you many a long year."I was fit to return to work in a couple of weeks.The Captain called me into his Ready Room and told me that he had mentioned me in dispatches. But I digress. This “OBGYN” table would be for the situations where maybe the “fucker” wants to enjoy jacking off the “fuckee” or where the “fucker” may be just more comfortable doing her work. The next station would be a wall rack. One of those racks that you see many times. Basically three boards connected by a whole bunch of rungs attached to a wall. Strong enough to hold a “fuckee” with his face to the wall. The “fuckee’s” ass would be open to “fuckers” to come in and standing just. I start cleaning up as Mark is letting people out the from door to leave. Will walks up grabs a few beer cans from the table and squeezes my ass. This was a usual for him, I just looked at him and winked. I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking. So I brushed my hand across his semi-hard cock, which was about 10 inches or so, and cracked a flirty smile as he walked into the kitchen. I could hear Will & Mark laughing in the kitchen as I walked in with the last of the empty beer cans. You. “I never introduced myself before, did I?” she said. “My name’s Larissa. Lara.”He shook her soft hand. “Scott. And actually, miss, you wrote your name on the back of the receipt.”“Did I? Oh, dear. That’s against store policy.” She shrugged, flashing a coy smile. “Guess I just wanted you to have help if you needed it. Like I said, fountain pens can be tricky.”Earlier that afternoon, she had popped up again and again while he browsed the stationery store, asking if he needed help finding.