Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

left hand up the inside of his left thigh. He wriggledinvoluntarily as I forced my fingers past the leg opening ofthe shorts. The scrotum's heat was far greater than that ofthe thigh, I noticed, and the hairs were soaked with sweat.Carefully I took his left testicle in my hand. It was unusuallylarge and firm to the touch, though somewhat loose in thesac, no doubt due to his overheated condition. Delicately Ifingered the beloved enemy, at last in my power. Then Ilooked up and saw that Rusty's eyes were screwed shut, asthough anticipating pain. I gave it to him. I maneuvered thetesticle back and forth until I had found the hole from which,in boyhood, it had so hopefully descended. I shoved it backup into the hole. He groaned. Then he gagged as I held it inplace. With the gagging, I could feel the entire scrotumcontract like a terrified beast, seeking escape. When hegagged again and seemed on the verge of actually beingsick, I let the testicle fall back into its normal place and tookmy hand away. "Jesus," he whispered. "I almost threw up.""I'm sorry. But I have to be thorough. I'll be gentler this time."Again my hand pushed past the damp cloth and seized theright testicle, which was somewhat smaller than the left. As Imaneuvered it gently about, my forefinger strayed andstruck the side of something thick and smooth, rooted inwiry hair. He shuddered, but continued to suffer at myhands. I slipped the right testicle into its ancient place andheld it there until I sensed he was about to gag. Then I let itdrop and removed my hand. He gave a deep sigh. "I guessthat's it." "Yes, I think so." I pretended to examine the chart.With a sigh, he sat down on the chair opposite me and