Chapter 1

They were at it again.

I was walking down the hall, heading for the shipping dock, when I heard giggling. I work at the Falkenville Community Hospital, on the night shift, in the receiving department.

Sounds special, doesn’t it?

But in all actuality, we get maybe three or four deliveries a night, and most of those are partial loads on common carriers, a pallet here, three or four pallets there, sometimes just a few boxes. Then, of course, we have to unpack everything and put it all away on the shelves.

Many nights it takes maybe three or four hours. The rest of the time we nap, or read, or watch TV.

Or surf the net.

My name’s Dirk, and I work with three women. It doesn’t take all of us to do the job, but the hospital got a grant to hire some people to improve efficiency. Before us there was one old guy who took in the stuff and the nurses had to come down and unpack and distribute it.

So when I heard giggling, I knew they were at it again. Julie is the oldest. She’s probably in her late thirties, divorced, no kids, and bitter about it. She had the dream marriage, with the nightmare husband who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Jill is the intern, a college kid with glasses and short dark hair that barely goes down past her ears. She always looks so intense, like the world could come to an end any minute and she’s trying to be ready for it. She works hard at being all grown up, which is a shame cause she’s really just a kid who’s throwing away her youth.

Then there’s Linda. She’s about my age, in her late twenties or early thirties. She’s got a little girl and she never talks about the father. All she’s ever said is, “He’s not in our lives.”

Technically I’m the supervisor. But there isn’t really anything to supervise. I sign documents and take the heat if we accept the wrong stuff, or the right stuff, but in the wrong quantities - that drives accounts payable crazy. By mid shift we’re pretty much done, most nights.

That’s when they usually gather around the computer and the giggling starts. It was Linda who got them all started. One night I heard her call Julie over to the computer. “Jules, come here. You aren’t going to believe this!” Julie went over and there was some low voiced exchange and then quiet as Julie read something. About a minute into it she pushed Linda out of the chair and sat down, staring intently at the screen like she was reading about how they just found the fountain of youth, and were telling people where it was.

Then she leaned forward and actually moaned! Linda burst out giggling and said “See what I mean? Is that hot, or is that hot!”

I stood up from where I was sitting reading an old paperback copy of Heinlein’s ‘Stranger In A Strange Land’ and said, “What’s up?”

Linda turned around and held up one hand in the classic “STOP” signal. “Sit back down big guy,” she said. “This is female stuff. Not for you.”

I lost interest, but as I sat down I saw that Julie hadn’t even looked away from the screen even once during the whole thing. About five minutes later she rolled the chair back, stood up and said, “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

For some reason that made Linda cackle with laughter and she called out, “I used the left stall!”

I wouldn’t have thought anything about it, except that it happened again the next night. After we got all done with work Linda sat down at the computer and started clicking the mouse. Pretty soon she called out “Julie, he posted another one!” Julie almost ran over to the computer and they stared at the screen together this time. I could see the screen and it was all just text on the screen. Then they got in an argument about how fast to scroll the screen. Both of them were gasping and making little sounds in their throats.

Jill wandered over and started reading over their shoulders. They were both so involved in their reading that they didn’t even notice her.

Until she said, “Oh my gosh! What in the world are you guys reading?”

Julie looked up and said “Sweetie, you’re a little young for this kind of stuff.”

Of course that was like throwing down the gauntlet to Jill, and the next thing I knew there were three chairs crowded in front of the screen. Jill demanded they start over, which they did. Then it got quiet and they were all breathing heavily, staring and reading the slowly scrolling words.

I tried to read, but it was too quiet. Finally they were done. Jill said, “Wow, I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Linda grinned. “His stuff is so hot I just have to... “ She glanced at me to see if I was listening. I pretended to be deep in my book. She continued in a whisper, “I have to go rub off after I read it.”

Hysterical giggling and squealing, like a bunch of girls at a slumber party, broke out. Julie gasped “Me, too! Last night ... me too!”

Jill was confused. “You read that last night too?”

Linda laughed and said, “Hell no, girl, he’s got maybe fifty stories posted.”

Then there was this scramble to get the three chairs back in front of the screen and Linda went to work. A new page came up and there was a muffled conference as Linda’s long-nailed finger slid down the screen, apparently down a list or something. They agreed on something and the screen changed again.

This time it took them fifteen minutes to read whatever it was they were reading. I mean it was as quiet as a tomb in there, except for these little noises they made in their throats. Then, when they were done, they all three went their separate ways and I didn’t see hide nor hair of them for another half hour.

They were all smiles and giggles when they got back together though.

The next night the same thing happened. And the night after that.

Finally I couldn’t take it any more. I just had to find out what was going on.

The next night I let them get started reading and stood up quietly. I drifted over behind them. At the top of the page were the words: Lucky Sister by Beating Off Bob.

It was some sort of story or something.

“Who the hell is Beating Off Bob?” I blurted out.

All three women looked up at me. Julie said, quite calmly, “I told you Dirk, this is woman stuff. You need to go over there and read, or sit quietly or something. When we’re done we’ll let you know.

She always thought that because she was older than me I should have to do whatever she said. Normally it didn’t bother me. That night I got hot under the collar.

“What the hell kind of name is that anyway?” I growled. “What’s going on?”

Linda stood up and turned around to face me. “Dirk, honey, (she flirted with me a lot) we’re kind of busy right now. Please, just go sit down and be a good boy. We’ll explain it to you later. Okay?”

I suddenly realized she smelled really good. So I went and sat.

I felt like I was a pussy or something.

They read steadily for fifteen minutes, making those sounds again. Linda sat back in her chair. “I have a brother, and he’s cute and all, but I could never do that with him.”

Julie’s head turned and she said “Of course not you silly girl. You’re not supposed to think about him. You’re supposed to think about somebody else ... somebody you wish was your brother, and how you’d do it with him if he was your brother.”

Jill was breathing hard. “I don’t understand. This stuff is perverted, but it makes me feel so hot! Why would I want to think about actually doing any of this?”

Julie sighed, the sound of a woman who is making it obvious she’s being very patient. “Look, I read his profile, and I read between the lines. He’s not saying you should go out and do this stuff. Okay, think about it like this.” She turned to Linda. “Linda, you have Cynthia. She’s your daughter and you love her, right?”

Linda nodded.

“Okay, now Cynthia has a father right?”

Linda went frosty. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Julie put her hands up. “We’re not going to talk about him. But you had something once upon a time that was so good that you had Cynthia because of it. Is that right? Or was she an accident?”

Linda bristled “No! She wasn’t an accident. I wanted her. I love her!”

Julie had her hands up again. “Yes, we know that. And it’s that feeling that I wanted to identify, not the pain. See, in reality there is all this pain. I was madly in love with Jack and he cheated on me and ruined it all, but I remember the feeling of being in love. So the reality was shitty, but when I read this guy’s stories, everything always works out and everybody’s always happy and it just beats the shit out of real life.”

Jill was shaking her head. “Yes, but you can’t just dream and fantasize all day long. You can’t live a fantasy.”

Julie nodded. “Yes, that’s right. We have to deal with our lives and whatever goes on in them, but ... every once in a while ... this man gives us something we can dream about long enough to pretend it’s about us, with some guy we’d like to be with, but probably never will, and have some excitement that turns out ... nice.”

I had been listening to all this and I couldn’t take it any more. “Come on Julie. You can’t be serious. This guy writes about ... doing your sister or something and you want to have a fantasy about that?”

Julie stood up and walked over to me. “Dirk, have you ever whacked off while looking at a Playboy?”

Man she knew how to put me on the defensive. “I don’t have to answer that question,” I said defensively.

“Cut the shit Dirk, you wanted into this conversation. Now, do your part. Have you ever masturbated to Playboy? Yes or No Dirk?”

I darted a look at the other two women, thoughts of a sexual harassment complaint looming over this situation. But I wanted to know where she was going with it. And they looked ... interested, not mad.

“Let’s just say it’s common knowledge that guys jerk off and that’s why Playboy is so popular. So what?”

“What are the chances, Dirk, that you, or any other guy who buys that magazine will ever get together with one of the women in it?”

I laughed. “None! I know that. That’s not the point. It’s just fun thinking about it.”

Julie turned around and bowed to her two coworkers. “I rest my case,” she said.

I realized I had just bolstered her argument. I wasn’t happy about it. I decided to take another path at knocking this Bob guy down.

“OK, but what kind of pervert uses a name like ‘Beating Off Bob’? I mean that’s just disgusting. Who wants that image in their mind?”

Julie came to his defense. “But don’t you see? That’s the whole point. He doesn’t want the reader to try to actually do any of this stuff. So he reminds you with every story, that he writes fantasies to masturbate to, but not take seriously. Who could take a guy who calls himself ‘Beating Off Bob’ seriously? It’s perfect!”

I wasn’t doing all that well, so I changed tacks again. “I think I need to read one of these stories.”

The girls all put their head together and eventually nodded. Julie went to the computer, pushed some buttons and pulled up a story. It was called “Uncle’s Fashion Sense”.

I started reading. It was a story about a girl about to get married who got a bunch of lingerie at a shower and tried it on for her uncle, in theory to figure out which one she should wear on her wedding night. Then he ... well he did a bunch of things to her. I noticed two things. His description of the girl made me think of Tiffany Watkins, who worked up in the ER and who I had had a letch for for months. She wouldn’t give me the time of day, but I saw her in that story. The other thing I noticed was that by the time I had ... er I mean Uncle Bob had put his hands all over Tiffany ... er I mean Beth ... I had a hardon. And it was the kind of hardon that needed attention.

I was in trouble and I knew it. Then something caught my eye. “Hah!” I crowed triumphantly. “I knew the guy was a hack.”

“What?” asked Julie, worried now.

“This guy doesn’t know anything!” I said as I adjusted my cock to where it wouldn’t be so noticeable and stood up. “He says the crotchless panties she’s wearing came from Victoria’s Secret. Anybody knows that Victoria’s Secret doesn’t sell crotchless panties!. You get that kind of thing from Fredericks of Hollywood, and not Victoria’s Secret. The guy’s a fraud.”

Linda said, “Dirk, what’s that in your pants? Is that a pistol in your pocket, or did maybe Beating Off Bob give you a stiffy?”

“That’s nothing!” I barked. “Maybe I was a little titillated ... at first ... but he ruined it with that obvious mistake. I couldn’t possibly enjoy a story that had such a glaring error in it.”

Julie had been peering at the front of my pants. She grinned. “Of course not Dirk, after all, that’s a pivotal part of the story. It’s not important what she’s wearing. It’s only important that he correctly names the store where she got it. I’ll make sure to write to him and tell him he lost a reader because of that very very serious mistake.”

“You can actually write to this guy?” I asked.

“Sure, I’ve sent him a couple of notes telling him he made me all wet and was very naughty.”

I goggled at this woman I thought I knew, this bitter divorced woman who didn’t seem to have any fun, and who was always pissed off about something.

“But he’s a pervert!” I yelled. “If you write to him he’ll write back and try to get you to meet him and then he’ll probably try to rape you or something or you’ll be murdered in your sleep!”

She actually laughed at me. Me!

“Dirk, honey, I’d never meet with him. He’s happily married and I have no interest in him. I just like his fantasies!”

“He’s married?” I croaked.

“Yes, and he’s old enough to be my ... uncle.” There was a brief pause as she let that sink in and then three women were laughing their asses off at me.

Linda was still looking interestedly at my pants, which were still full of hard dick because, like I said, this was the kind of boner that had to be dealt with. He really did write a pretty hot story. I jusat didn’t want to admit it.

“Dirk?” Linda said in a sweet voice that I knew boded no good for Dirk Hoffman. “Who did you think of when he described Beth?”