I had my usual annual medical exam. The doctor was asking some questions about my lifestyle, which I think of as very caring medical treatment. He was asking about my family life, my work, how much stress I might be having, etc. He even asked about my sex life. It felt a little invasive, but I figured I ought to tell the truth to get the best possible care. So, I mentioned the only thing that bothered me: I told him that my penis curves to the left a bit. I wasn’t sure that was OK, or even normal, even though It’s been that way forever. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it. The doctor didn’t take a look at that. Instead, he had his receptionist make an appointment with a urologist. This got out of hand, but the appointment was set, and I figured I could follow through with it.
So two weeks later found me filling out the usual admission form in Doctor Thompson’s office. I figured some old geezer would take a quick look at my dick, say all was well, and I’d feel the relief of knowing my penis was OK after all.
The receptionist had me enter an exam room, telling me to lower my pants and have a seat on the exam table. The doctor would be in shortly.
It was weird sitting there waiting with my stuff exposed and my pants around my ankles. I felt vaguely as if I was doing something wrong. The doctor took an extraordinarily long time to arrive. In reality, it was probably only 8 or 10 minutes, but it felt like forever. I kept thinking I should take out my phone and do something, but I just sat there being bored and a little scared, too.
Suddenly the door swung open, and a woman stepped in. I was not expecting that. She was about my age, with long brunette hair, a good build, and a friendly face. But a woman, geez! And there I was with my pants around my ankles.
After a brief moment of outright fright, I realized she must be Dr. Thompson.
As if my pants weren’t down at my ankles with my feet swinging off the end of the table, she came forward and shook my hand – like a man – introducing herself as Cathy Thompson, not “Doctor Thompson.”
She didn’t even look at my junk at first, instead staring at a clipboard, muttering half to me, half to herself, “To the left, eh?”
Then she added, “It’s probably nothing, but we should check for Peyronie’s disease.” That was the first time I heard that term.
She put on a pair of gloves, reached forward and gently grabbed the tip of my very soft dick, pulling and lifting slightly. There was no way I would have been hard. In fact, at that moment, my heart was racing. I had no idea what “Payless disease” or whatever she called it, was, but I was worried I might have it.
Cathy started to explain, seemingly as if talking to a child. “Plaque can be deposited in the cavernosa, causing lumpiness and bending to one side or the other. These plaques can be best detected when the penis is erect.”
At first I missed the cue, then it occurred to me. She wanted me to be erect, or at least that’s the way it seemed. This was totally weird, and out of the question. The only one in my life who had seen me with an erection was my wife.
Cathy continued, “You will need to have an erection for this examination. Perhaps you can attain that by yourself. If not, we have a little product called Caverject that I can inject. It’s harmless, but chemically induces erection.”
I probably looked like a deer in the headlights. I was so embarrassed by what she wanted that I almost reacted in anger. I was ready to pull up my pants and storm out of there. But this disease, this “Patrones” or whatever the heck it was. I had to find out, right?
Cathy was sitting on a rolling stool, I was sitting on the edge of the exam table. She instructed me to lay back and “stimulate” myself. What could I do?
So, I followed her instruction, and started stroking my penis. It stayed soft. I think sensing the situation Cathy tried to put me at ease with conversation. First she asked some questions about how I met my wife. I answered in very short sentences, I’m afraid. Speaking of fear, that injection she mentioned had me really scared. I know I shouldn’t be so afraid of needles, but I hate them. I needed to calm down.
I decided to participate more fully in the conversation. That might help. I hoped it didn’t offender her when I asked the obvious question: “Why urology?”
She smiled and told the absolute, disarming truth: “I’ve been fascinated by male genitalia since my adolescent years. In medical school, whenever I had to do an exam on men, I was delighted. There was an optional urological rotation during my internship. I signed up. When a urological residency came up, I jumped at the opportunity. Besides, I’m kind of a nymphomaniac. Not in the usual sense. I don’t need sex all day every day. I just get a never-ending kick out of men’s ‘junk.'”
I was still stroking a totally soft penis, as she went on: “Unfortunately, most of the men I see are over 60. Of course there’s nothing wrong with that, and some are very attractive. But, most have the same problem over and over again: Enlarged prostates. It makes me sad when I have to take one out. It takes ages for the men to recover, and they feel like they have really lost something.
“I thought you could spare the nerves these days.” I had read something about that somewhere.
“Yes, almost always. So the men can still have erections, but no ejaculate is emitted. That is a big disappointment for some men.”
Unfortunately, this discussion was not helping my little problem, and I do mean little. I was stroking slowly. For some reason, when I masturbate at home, I get into a really fast, almost frenetic speed, but I was embarrassed to do that in front of the doctor. Certainly she must have seen all sorts of masturbation in her most remarkable profession, but still, I just couldn’t bring myself to go full speed ahead, even though my penis was about as small as it had ever been.
I knew when I was beat, and relented to the injection at her softly spoken suggestion. She pulled a plastic package out of a drawer and opened it. It was a strange little syringe. Instead of a long straight needle, it had a short little one, perhaps a centimeter long, and at an angle.
“You probably won’t feel this at all,” she said as she approached. Pulling my penis to its full, but soft length with one hand, She rubbed a swab of cold alcohol on one side of my penis near the base. My heart was beating so fast and hard I could hear it. She put down the swab, grabbed the fucking needle, and jab – stuck it right into the side of my dick. It happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to react. What she said about not feeling it was entirely wrong.
It fucking stung like a mother!
In a moment, I felt some sort of warming sensation within my penis. It was sort of like Ben-Gay, but on the inside. Mild though. Within a minute, my penis started rising up. It was weird feeling an erection coming on when I wasn’t sexually charged up. Stranger still, the side she stuck me on was getting bigger than the other side causing my penis to bend way to the left, way more than the amount I had been concerned about. In another minute, the other side of my dick caught up, and now, it was as hard as it had ever been in my life.
Oddly, when you have an erection, even if artificially induced – I know now – it has a psychological effect on you. I was starting to feel horny. It felt good.
A minute passed as the doctor started telling me about her son and his interest in baseball, then she simply said, “There.”
With that, she reached forward and started manipulating my penis. Now, it was looking the way it always does when hard, with a slight curve to the left. She felt it firmly with the fingertips of both hands, pressing the sides almost hard enough to hurt.
It started feeling sort of nice, even though she was pressing so hard.
“No Peyronie’s,” She announced.
Then, she went on to feel my balls, and did a digital rectal exam with me on the table on my hands and knees. I was still rock-hard and I could swear, if she had done it a little longer, I might have ejaculated right there in her office.
But no, instead she instructed me to pull my pants up. She was done, announcing that I was in perfect health and that the slight curve to the left was perfectly normal.
It was just a bit difficult zipping up my pants with my dick still fully boned up. Worse than that, I had to walk out into the waiting room, with three elderly men and a female receptionist, with what I figured was probably an obvious bulge in my pants. How embarrassing, because I’m sure they all knew what was going on.
At home, a half-hour later, my penis was still hard. It was sort of aching a bit. You may know the feeling if you’ve ever been especially horny and jacked off for a very long time.
My wife, barely hiding her amusement, wanted to know all about the appointment. We have no secrets, so I told her all about it. The kids were still at school, so she wanted me to go in the bedroom and show her my hard dick. I complied, a bit sheepish, because even though Judy has seen me erect many times, this chemically-induced situation was a first, and really weird, when you think about it.
Judy reached out, and gave me a brilliant handjob, with me shooting cum a good foot in the air and landing on my chest. Oddly, my swollen dick didn’t go down. She wondered if she could jack me again, but I was way too sensitive. Five minutes of pillow talk went by. I was willing to lick her to orgasm, something she loves, but she was shy, feeling the kids might somehow come home a half-hour early. Instead, after I cooled down a bit, she tried jacking me again. I stayed hard, but didn’t cum a second time. Finally, we heard the front door open, so the fun was over. I hid from the kids in our bedroom for an hour, while Judy told them I was napping. Finally, finally, my penis went back to its normal soft self, and I was able to join the family for dinner.
Do you think it’s strange that I often remember that medical exam when having sex with Judy or jacking off, and it gets me really horny?