The Coma Girl Brain Transplant

"So, you need someone who's brain is in good order but who's body is not?" I asked.

"Yes, for a start. Then the next of kin needs to sign the body over to the owner of the brain allowing euthanasia and body reuse donation. It's all terribly complicated and highly rare, but still I hope," he confided, and proceeded to change the subject matter.

"I work nights on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I expect to see you here again in two days' time. Next time wear some perfume and use a breath mint," he ordered and made an abrupt exit from the room.

"Yes, Doctor Finch. Sorry, Doctor Finch," I uttered apologetically. Why was I the one to apologise? He was the one who'd had the affair with my girlfriend. He was the one who had sprung a surprise attack on me... although, I did like it when he grabbed my bottom...and sucking his cock sure was an interesting experience... and, gosh, that feeling of his cock in my ass was the nicest feeling I'd had in some time. I would be sure to return in two nights' time for some more hanky-panky with this extraordinary gent. I left the hospital and caught the night bus home, more than aware of The Doctor's cold wet semen slowly drying onto my inner leg.

The grim reality of life as an alleged notorious sex fiend had hit home. I'd lost my job and spent most of my savings on rent and outgoings over the previous year leaving me broke and now facing homelessness. I had contemplated suicide but I was too afraid that I would screw up and maybe end up in the same place as my girlfriend probably was, somewhere in limbo, and have to listen to her going on, and on, at me about how much of a failure I was. Come to think about it, I wasn't in such a bad place as long as I was still alive. If there ever was such a place as Hell, then she would surely be found there and for that reason alone, I would have thought Hell was a place best avoided.
Regardless of this, I thought about the important role my girlfriend had played in earning the crust for us both.