Back to the shore.

Dumped supine into the sandy delta, Eliot was left with his goods on clear display by the laughing fishwoman as she waved goodbye for real this time. Webby savored the view of her birthday-suited boytoy (and his delicious penis) as she dove back underwater, and relished the aftertaste of his cum even after she faded from sight.

Eliot just twitched, pleasure overriding any sense of shame or self-preservation as he laid butt naked on the shore where any passersby could see his dick. He seriously just got the best blowjob of his life, by a lake monster, and the only downside was the humiliation that preceded it.

As the hunky doctor laid naked in the sand, at least one woman was fast approaching, as the man—even in his post-orgasmic stupor—could clearly hear a feminine voice nearby.

“Hello!” She called out, searching for someone. Eliot sure as shit hoped she wasn’t Winona.

“Dr.Sexypants?” The woman asked, using the scientist’s third most hated nickname.

“Come on, where are you!?”

At this distance, Dr.Browning could tell that it was Rosalind calling out for him. But even if it weren’t for the sound of the pervy college girl’s voice, the next thing she said would be a dead giveaway.

“Eliot, I’m worried sick— and more importantly I need to watch the Bachelorette soon! I’m going to drag you back by the dick if you don’t hurry up!”

“Doctor, please tell me you’re okay… And naked!”

The realization that it was filthy-minded ol’ Rosalind on the cusp of finding him nude blew all the fog out of the doctor’s clouded mind, and he rushed to his knees to at least slap the sand off his bare ass. Fighting upright with his wiener dangling where anyone could see it, Eliot had to think of something to say, and fast.