u/QuantityBrief152

(The conclusion of this week’s installment)
——

“What does a sperm sample have anything to do with a penis reduction procedure?!” I protest, unaccepting of the ridiculousness.

“He asked the same thing.”

“And what did Laura say?”

“The same thing I’m telling you: Hush!”

——

“I’m just being thorough in my work up,” Laura continued, adding more lube to his shaft.

“But…” he began to argue, stopping with the return of her hand to his rigid member.

“But?” she purred, ready to counter any protest.

“It…it can take me a while to…to ejaculate,” he groaned, searching for formal words while being tossed off by an immaculate blonde whose blouse had fallen wide open.

“I see,” she replied. “I guess that is just one more condition for me to consider.”

All pretenses pushed to the side, she began to vigorously jerk him off with both hands, drawing a moan of pleasure from his throat. She carried on that way for a few minutes, alternating from two hands together to two hands split to one hand on his shaft and one teasing his tip and back again.

“So what was the most you have ever been able to insert into a woman? Half?” she asked, taking a break and forming a ring with her thumb and forefinger roughly halfway down his shaft. She flooded her thong just looking at the amount that may have made it in someone.

“Well, I guess maybe more like a third?” he said, now having a true sense of scale with Laura’s hand sliding up and down his rigid cock.

“You poor thing,” she unapologetically murmured. “Such a waste, such a waste.”

She reluctantly let go of his cock to roll back over the cabinet and return with the largest Magnum she could find.

“Well, since it looks like you are nowhere near close to ejaculating, I think it’s time to escalate the treatment,” she said tearing the condom open with her teeth.

“Actually, I was getting pretty clo…”

“Shhhh…” she stopped him, bringing a long, slender finger to his lips to silence him.

Using every bit of her condom rolling expertise, she was just able to manage wrapping his tool, its ring stopping a good two inches above his base.

——

“He’s the reason why we had that XXXL Magnum for you,” Candace points out. “We’ve had to corner the market on those things.”

“I guess I should thank him,” I sarcastically reply.

“‘World’s Largest Dick Meets World’s Largest Sack’,” Candace jokes. “I would watch the shit out of that porno.”

——

“A third, huh?” Laura repeated, eyes locked on his wrapped cock, considering the challenge.

“Yeah, a thi…uuuughhh…” he groaned, unable to finish his reply before Laura attempted to take in his tip, her mouth open as wide possible.

——

“I thought she said ‘I would be hard pressed to find *any* scenario in which giving a patient a blow job is the best course of action’?”

“Exactly! That’s the other reason why I was so pissed when she was scolding me. It’s not like she hasn’t done the same thing before!”

——

“Gggaaahh!” she gasped, unsuccessful in her initial attempt to get past his ridge.

Never one to back down from adversity, she braced herself to try again, firmly gripping his cock in one hand and completely relaxing her jaw.

——

“Waitwait. Just how big are we talking here?”

“You ever try to wrap your mouth around a soup can?”

“8 or 16 ounces?” I crack.

“20,” Candace seriously replies.

“Can’t say I have,” I respond, an unholy image of Laura’s stretched mouth suddenly popping into my head.

——

On her second attempt, Laura felt her lips slip past his ridge as she forced her tongue out of the way, his tip stopped by her uvula and the narrowing opening to her throat.

“You are a big boy!” she proclaimed once she evacuated him from her mouth so she could breathe.

Laura then lost her gloves and draped her lab coat and stethoscope over the rolling table next to his chart and specimen cup before she tried again, this time getting well past his ridge, his tip bumping the back of her throat. She held on as long as she could, her throat involuntarily contracting and tears welling in the corners of her eyes, giving him a couple of jerks for good measure.

“Holy shit,” Michael groaned when she released him.

“That’s the most anyone has managed to take into their mouth,” he added, bringing a very proud look to Laura’s face.

“Stick around and I’ll show you all kinds of things those girls could never do,” she replied before bringing her lips back to his cock, planting kisses down his shaft, one hand massaging his sack.

——

“She spent the next 5 minutes giving him the best blow job he ever had until that point,” Candace says. Back in her spot next to me, she absentmindedly strokes my thigh, her hand getting dangerously close to my crotch.

“I’m impressed he lasted that long.”

“Oh her blow job skills are fair at best,” she claims.

“I’m not going to ask how you know that.”

“Michael told me.”

“He…he told you?” I reply. “When?”

“So anyway…” Candace continues, changing the subject.

——

“Now Michael, can you keep a secret?” Laura purred, rising to her feet.

“Ummmm,” gulped Michael, watching Laura start to undo the last of her buttons that were hold her top together.

“You see, I am in a bit of a hurry,” she tsk-tsked. Towering over Michael, she pulled her arms through her sleeves to remove her top, leaving her standing there in her expensive, white lingerie D-cup bra that barely held in her breasts.

“But your sperm sample is very important to my diagnosis. Very important,” she continued, reaching for the back zipper of her long pencil skirt.

“Uh huh,” he submissively replied, her breasts at his eye level.

Zipper undone, she shimmied down her skirt, elegantly stepping her stiletto-ed feet out of it, the sudden shock of cold air raising tight goose bumps on her perfect ass cheeks.

“So what I think we need to do,” she continued, “is to do it the way nature truly intended.” She ran her manicured nail across his cheek, down his gown and back to his shaft that she was pleased to find was even harder than when she left it.

“But you need to promise that you won’t tell anyone that we did what we are about to do. Promise?”

“I…I promise,” he replied in a whisper, not given much of a choice.

A seductive pat on the crinkly exam table paper was all it took for Michael to climb on. Now at a convenient working height, Laura lowered her mouth onto his column and sucked what she could of his tip while jerking his shaft with both hands.

Michael could only lay back in pleasure, unsure if moaning in approval was appropriate. Knowing he would never be so bold, Laura grabbed his hand and brought it to her crotch, forcing his finger tips against the soaked white lace fabric that barely covered her womanhood.

She moaned into his cock as his fingers pressed and prodded and poked, raking her large, swollen clit through the thin fabric. She went to town on his cock, kissing and licking and sucking and jerking every glorious inch of him through the condom, from his bush to his tip. His fingers inevitably slipped past her thong and glided along her slick pussy, her lips already hanging open and wanting. He was tentative, content simply with running the tips of his fingers across her slit.

The tease was driving Laura insane. Mouth and one hand on his cock, she forced the length of his middle and ring finger into her with her other hand, drawing a deep, guttural moan from her throat. She spread her legs to give him more room to work, a task that he picked up quickly, curling his fingers to find her G-spot.

“Ooohhh fuuuuuu…” she had to moan, eyes rolling, when he hit it and didn’t stop, a puddle of her juices forming in his hand. She ground hard into him, forcing her clit against his palm. Her mouth returned to his cock out of pure instinct, the mammoth member twitching between her lips.

For someone so inexperienced, he sure knew what he was doing. His pointer and pinky did not lay idle, but instead rubbed spots around her womanhood she forgot she had.

“Don’t…don’t stop…” she gasped, her grip tightening around his cock for support.

——

“Did he change anything up?”

“What?”

“Laura says that when a woman says ‘Don’t stop’, she means ‘Don’t change a thing.’”

“Is that what she told you?! That explains a lot, actually,” Candace stews.

“Women are impossible,” I groan.

“For the record, judging by how hard he made her cum from his finger fuck, it is safe to assume he didn’t change anything.”

——

Now ready as she ever would be, she pulled away and let his soaked hand slip out of her. Without a word, she stripped out of her ruined thong and threw it to the side, then stepped out of her shoes and climbed onto the table to straddle him.

His body dwarfed under her, she pressed his massive, completely engorged cock against her perfectly manicured bush, her brown hairs trimmed short and waxed into a wide landing strip.

——

“So she is a real blonde.”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

——

Preparing for the challenge, she added several generous dollops of lube to his huge staff, then rose from her haunches to apply some to herself before positioning her pussy over him.

“Ooooooooo…” Laura moaned, one hand on this chest to keep her balance, the other wrapped halfway around Mike’s massive member as she eased him in, struggling to take just his tip.

It took her two tries to get his ridge in, the moment it broke through taking her breath away.

“Shiiiiii…” Laura groaned, her pussy lips panicking with the utter violation of her womanhood.

It was slow progress. First just the tip and back out. Then another half inch and back out. Another inch.

She was trembling by the time she felt his condom covered, bulbous tip bump her cervix, her body perspiring despite the arctic chill of the exam room. A gasp left her lungs as her pussy struggled to adjust, places being touched that her husband’s cock didn’t know existed.

“I…I must warn you…fuck!… warn of the…shit…of the…” she strained out, her thighs on fire as they worked to keep her from being impaled, words marking each punch of her womb. “…Of the risks…fuck…the risks of a penis reduction pro…fuuuuckk…procedure.”

Michael could only nod, his eyes closed and head tilted back on the exam table, the nerve endings on his shaft telling him more than enough.

“Im…impotence…holy shit…loss of…motherfucker…loss of sens…ahhh!” she screamed, her pussy stretching with each plunge, inch-by-holy-shit-why-are-you-so-big-inch disappearing into her depths.

“Loss of sensation…” she finally spits. “So good…fuck!…I’m mean…loss…sensation… very…fuck!…very bad!”

She built up a slow, steady rhythm, rising several inches off Michael before swallowing him again, each time getting just a little bit more into her. Her eyes were tightly shut, her mind going to a place where the pain was transformed into pure, sinful, lustful pleasure.

“Ohhh…shhhii…Dr. Larrson…so deep…” Michael moaned, finally opening his eyes to watch Laura bounce on his cock.

“Laura…call…me…Laura…” she gasped, her head twisting in pleasure and pain.

“Oh…ok…Laura,” he moaned.

“How…how are we doing, Michael? Are…are…ooohhh fuuck…are we…fuuuuckkk…making…fucking shit…so fucking big…are we making progress?” she exhaled, one hand on his thigh, propping herself up.

“Yeah…ooohhhh fuuuu…yeah…it…it feels really good,” he replied in pure, lustful pleasure. “No one has taken so much of me…”

“I…I think…ahhhh…no…no reduction…fuck,” Laura moaned. “You…just…need…a…real…woman.”

Laura was now successfully plunging down on two thirds of his cock. But try as she might, she could do no more, her guts already feeling like they had been rearranged. Arched slightly back; thighs flexing; her pussy stretched to its limits, its lips gripping his shaft; free hand raking her clit; her fabulous D’s jiggling, long since freed from the confines of her bra; she was an incredible sight.

——

“Then it happened,” Candace says in a very serious voice. “Some say he shifted just the right way. Others claim her thigh cramped. A third group said it was because the full moon messed with the tides. Still others blamed it on swamp gas from a weather balloon trapped in a thermal pocket that reflected the light from Venus.”

“But whatever the reason,” she pauses for effect, “what happened next became the stuff of legend.”

——

Suddenly and without warning, Laura’s hose-covered knees slipped off the sides of the narrow, pleather exam table, dropping her entire weight down onto Michael and nearly knocking the wind out of him. The entirety of his very thick, very erect flag pole disappeared into Laura, her ass coming to rest on his thighs.

The onset of shock was immediate.

“Motherfuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!” screamed Laura, cumming instantly from her oversaturated pain and pleasure receptors. Stunned, Michael could only lie there and watch as Laura’s legs shook uncontrollably, flailing off the sides of the exam table.

For the first time in his life, Michael felt what it was like to have his entire cock enveloped by a woman. As if not believing the nerve endings on the base of his shaft screaming “so this is what it feels like!”, he looked down to find that Laura had indeed consumed his full length, the outline of his cock faintly visible through her fat-less pelvis.

“Are…are you ok?” he asked, his own waves of pleasure washing over him as her pussy continued to confusedly milk the engorged member she was impaled upon. She responded with a breathless, simultaneous shaking and nodding of her head, tears welling in the corners her tightly shut eyes. Her hands grasped blindly seeking solace. Seeking comfort. Seeking a way to lift herself off his third leg that just permanently displaced her womb.

Her first attempt failed miserably, her shaking thighs not even making it halfway up his cock before they gave way, dropping her again down onto Michael and drawing another scream from her throat.

For Michael, the feeling was intense. Not quite realizing her struggles, he lost himself in the feeling of being completely buried in a woman, her nails digging into his chest only adding to the sensation.

Two more attempts, two more balls deep plunges. That was all it took.

“Laura…Laur…I’m…I’m gonna…”

He sat up in desperation, causing Laura to mercifully fall back and off his cock. Specimen cup just within his reach, he managed to open it up and pull his condom off just in time. Laura could only watch in a daze as he came, carefully trying to catch every drop, still believing in its importance towards her diagnosis.

——

“Before you ask, it was 4.5 milliliters. Like a normal person,” Candace catches me just as I open my mouth.

“Well that’s disappointing,” I joke.

——

Finally, an hour after she stormed in, Dr. Larrson exited Mr. Wilson’s exam room, softly closing the door behind her, hair a mess, blouse untucked, buttons mismatched. She gingerly walked up to a very put off looking Amber.

“This…this…this is Micha…Mr. Wilson’s sperm sample,” she said, handing the specimen cup to her. “Would you be so kind as to process that for me?”

“He should be out in a minute…” she continued, voice strained, leaning on the counter for support. “He…he will be considering the options I presented to him.”

“I’d…I’d. like to see him back in a week,” she added before the pain made her reconsider. “Maybe let’s make that two weeks. Yeah, two weeks should be good.”

She turned to head back to exam room 3, leaving a stewing Amber with Michael’s sperm.

“I’m…I’m just going back…back to my notes.” Dr. Larrson said, starting to head down the all before suddenly stopping.

“But…I think…I think I’m going to grab a couple of ice packs first,” she finished, changing directions to head to the wet lab.

Amber gave Mr. Wilson exactly 60 seconds before she barged into his room, only to find him still lying on the exam table in a state of post-coital bliss, his massive, softening cock hanging out, and a spent condom on the floor next to Laura’s forgotten thong.

“Goddammit,” she whispered, regretting ever walking into exam room 3.

——

“And so that’s how Laura convinced Mr. Wilson that a penis reduction was a horrible idea,” Candace triumphantly finishes.

“I mean, the potential risks do sound god awful,” I say.

“In the end, Mr. Wilson learned a couple of things that day,” Candace picks up.

“First, it is possible for all of him to fit in a woman without putting her in the hospital,” she says. “Second, he’s been chasing the wrong women his whole life.”

“He was a changed man after that day, especially when he found out that there’s a whole niche of tall size-queens that love short kings. He no longer limited his sights to women that were shorter than him, oh no. 5’8”, 5’10”, 6’2”. Once word got around that he had a world record dick and wasn’t an actual dick, but a really sweet guy, the world of tall women turned into his oyster. Rumor has it he even banged Sophie Clark, the power forward for the Storm.”

“No shit? She’s awesome!”

“She is! We should totally go to a game. But anyway,” Candace continues. “He even discovered that there were a bunch of sex-starved, good-Christian milfs that were hiding in the woodwork at his church, most of whom had popped out like 6 kids and could take him with no problem, but were never going to admit it.”

“I guess his mother got her wish,” I joke.

“She should have been careful what she wished for,” Candace smiles. “Now she’s scandalized every time her son walks in and a flock of supposedly happily married women fight to sit next to him.”

“But through it all, he still is at Laura’s beck and call.”

“Fair enough, she is the one that started it all. And she is smoking hot. I mean…” I smile devilishly at Candace, successfully dodging the cushion she chucked at me. “I mean…even though she’s old. Like, super old.”

“That’s better, you ass,” Candace says.

“I should add that it’s not just Laura,” she adds, an evil smile of her own forming on her face. “Let’s just say Amber did get her revenge. We all did.”

“Wait, what do you mean, you all did?” I say, raising my eyebrow. Truthfully, I found the thought of Candace trying to take Michael’s massive cock incredibly arousing.

“Well, not Dylan, of course. Which isn’t to say that Dylan didn’t try. I’m not sure why he thought Michael might be bi.”

“But the rest of you?”

“More champagne?” Candace asks, running diversion.

“I bet you couldn’t even get half of him in.”

“Three quarters, thank you very much!” she finally reveals, unable to resist my challenge to her honor, drawing laughter from me.

“Don’t worry. He couldn’t make me cum the way you can,” she says returning to her cuddle spot under my arm, giving me a peck on the lips, fresh cup of champagne in her hand.

“Damn skippy.”

“Oh my god, how old are you?” she sighs.

Story time over, we sit in silence for a few moments, perfectly content in each other’s presence.

“So,” she starts.

“So.”

“You wanna watch some porn?”

“‘Abi Gets Blacked?’”

“I was thinking ‘Abi on Top,’” Candace overrules, already removing Sheila’s strap-on. “A bet’s a bet, after all.”

——

To be continued...

“I still can’t believe you told her about us,” Candace scolds for the third time.

We are at her place and I had hoped to ask for her thoughts on me becoming Dr. Larrson’s prized guinea pig, but that was quickly put on the back burner when she found out about how I spilled the beans.

“She distracted me!” I try to argue, trying a new excuse after the first two failed to convince her.

“What? Were her tits falling out or something?”

Curled up on her couch, she is still in her pink scrubs, her strawberry blonde hair up in a messy bun. Tonight we felt classy, so we are drinking champagne out of plastic, because, why not?

“I mean, technically they weren’t ’falling out,’ but they were very much on display.”

“God…” Candace grumbles, getting ready to kick me. “At least she said we can still see each other. Luckily for you.”

“Luckily for me? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a hot commodity, you know,” I say, giving her my best “Blue Steel” impression.

“Right. And I’m Abigail Summers and play with dicks for a living…Oh wait…” she replies, exaggerating a sudden epiphany.

“Touché,” I acknowledge, Candace giving me a knowing look.

I hold up my arm to offer her a spot which she accepts, skillfully scooting up against me with plastic cup in hand. She smells of CaviWipes and lotion, her hair that I press into my lips of strawberry shampoo.

“Did you get Sheila a new vest?” I ask, noticing a wardrobe change on the headless mannequin in the corner of her living room whose primary purpose is to wear her prized strap-on.

Candace’s apartment is a one bedroom on Capitol Hill that is filled with an eclectic mix of second hand furniture, potted plants, string lights, medical textbooks, and dildos proudly displayed like family heirlooms. I loved it from the moment I first walked in.

“You like it? I found it at the thrift store.”

“I do, it looks comfy. And it’s got pockets.”

“That’s the best part. It's so cool, right? And you can put so much stuff in there. You wouldn't even know,” she says with a proud smile. I smile back, committing the way her eyes twinkle to memory.

“I’m sorry I told Laura about us,” I shift back, relieved that she didn’t seem to bent out of shape about it. “Though I still contend that I was tricked.”

“Well, at least you told a her a hot story about us,” she replies.

“What makes you say that?”

“Mr. Wilson came in for an ‘urgent appointment’ this afternoon. Now I know why.”

“Mr. Wilson? The guy with the big dick?”

“One and the same.”

“But…” I say, already connecting the dots. “…So you weren’t kidding when you said he was the guy that left her walking funny for a week?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“What happened to ‘I’m a happily married woman?’” I ask with scare quotes.

“She said ‘married’, not ‘happily married,’” she corrects, an evil grin forming on her face. “Big difference.”

“Chris, Laura is a total gold digger!” she reveals. “You do know her husband is Conroy Larrson, the big shot software developer, right?”

“Uhhh…yeah?” I lie.

“You’re hopeless,” she sighs, sitting up to better look me in the eye.

“So Conroy is like, 60 and filthy rich, obviously. For what it’s worth they’ve been together for 20 years or something. His second marriage, her first. But according to Laura, they haven’t fucked in the last 10.”

“Which is why he’s yanking it in the shower?”

“Yup. Middle age hit him hard. When he can get erect, he’s done in 15 seconds, so it’s not really worth either of their time. Not to mention he’s on the small side of average, at best.”

“Is that what Laura said, or?”

“Chloe, actually,” Candace answers. “He came in hoping for some miracle since his dick pills were losing efficacy.”

“So Chloe was the poor soul that had to watch him jerk off into a cup?”

“Watch? That hoe helped him. She said it was the greatest 10 seconds of her life.”

“I’m really beginning to question your office’s methods.”

“Trust the process, babe. Trust the process,” Candace quips.

“Anyway, even though they’ve been together for twenty years, they’ve been faithful for, like, three. It’s very much a matter of convenience,” she continues. “She keeps him around for his cash. It’s expensive to look the way she does.”

“I can imagine.”

“And he keeps her around because being able to take a goddamn goddess to a fundraiser can open a lot of doors.”

“So I take it that Conroy knows about this, Mr. Wilson fellow?” I ask, flinching at the bite from the cheap champagne.

“If he does, he sure as shit doesn’t care. He’s probably got a couple of bimbos of his own on the side that are gunning for child support,” she replies. “Not including Chloe.”

“Jokes on them, though. He’s been shooting blanks. It’s a miracle he was able to have any kids with his first wife,” she finishes, taking a big sip of her drink.

“I never did tell you about Mr. Wilson’s first visit to our office, did I?” she begins again.

“No, I don’t think you have.”

“Ohmygodohmygod,” Candace continues, excited that it’s her turn to tell a tale. “It’s like, one of the greatest stories ever. We still talk about it all of the time. He originally came in for a consult on a penis reduction.”

“Come on, that can’t seriously be a thing.”

“It’s not,” she grins. “But seriously Chris. You don’t even know. At least once a month we have some clown come in claiming that his dick is too big and is considering a reduction.”

“Usually it’s some meat head or ‘Alpha Male’ that comes in making inappropriate comments left and right while ogling us, expecting us to fall out of our panties and land on their dicks when they announce how big they are,” she adds.

“Then inevitably they’ll whip it out and it’ll be average, at best.”

I wince when I imagine what Candace must have thought when she saw my shriveled junk for the first time.

“I mean, sure, occasionally you’ll get the 20, 25 cm ones,” she says. “But those guys are usually there for impotence and dick pills. I could imagine that it takes a lot of effort to get those things hard,” she chuckles nonchalantly.

“But it’s to the point where ‘penis reduction consult’ is almost code for ‘small dick’ in our office.”

“So when one of those comes in, Laura doesn’t even bother with the initial sit down like she had with you. She usually just makes one of us do the initial work up to start deflating their ego, then she drives home the final dagger when she sees the numbers and tells them that they are nowhere near a size that would be deemed as being medically problematic.”

“But not Mr. Wilson?”

“Not Mr. Wilson.”

“Why did she make like she forgot about him?”

“Plausible deniability. She’s done it a million times. We all know it’s bullshit though, so I like to call her on it just to see her squirm,” Candace replies, bringing her champagne to her lips. “I was off the day he first came in, but according to Chloe, who heard it from Jackie, who heard it from Mr. Wilson’s second cousin who goes to the same church as Jackie, this is how it went down.”

——

“Ummmm, Dr. Larrson, sorry to bother you,” Amber peeped at the door to exam room 3 where Laura was finishing up some notes. “But I think you may want to see Mr. Wilson’s flaccid measurements.”

It had been a busy morning, and Laura had barely gotten a chance to breathe. Full of boring cases and follow-ups, she had been looking forward to embarrassing Mr. Wilson just for the entertainment value.

“I trust you didn’t burst his bubble too ba…” Dr. Larrson began, grabbing the chart from Amber and scanning it before biting her tongue.

“And this is in centimeters?!”

“No, millimeters. Yes it’s in centimeters!” Amber sighed, slightly offended.

“But 30 centimeters is like…”

Dr. Larrson held out her hands nearly a foot apart and stared at the distance between incredulously.

“It’s more like…”

Amber grabbed Dr. Larrson by the wrists and widens the gap another couple of inches.

“Soft?!” Dr. Larrson asked, looking up at Amber.

“As a cooked noodle.”

——

“And keep in mind, the exam rooms have been known to subtract at least 10%. We keep them cold,” Candace adds.

“Very cold,” I agree. “I thought I was going inverted.”

“Your nuts sure were.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

——

“And 19 cm around? That’s longer than my hand!” Dr. Larrson continued.

“Amber! He’s only 5’5” and 3 quarters?” she added, scanning the rest of his numbers.

Amber nodded, already following Dr. Larrson’s train of thought. “Laura, he’s a goddamn tripod. It almost hangs below his knee and out the bottom of his gown.”

“And you have him getting aroused right now?” Dr. Larrson asked, rising to her feet, chart in hand.

“Yes. He couldn’t have started more than 3 minutes ago. Wait, Laura, where are you going? I can take care of…”

Amber chased after Dr. Larrson who had calmly bolted for the door, Mr. Wilson’s chart in hand. The two of them speed-walked down the hall to Mr. Wilson’s exam room, Laura able to keep three steps of Amber with her long, stiletto-ed strides, the slit in her form hugging skirt giving her just enough freedom.

“Laura! You gave him to me!” Amber hissed, struggling to catch up even in her kicks, resisting the urge to break into an unprofessional sprint in the office.

“LAUR-!”

“Excuseme,Mr.WilsonIamDr.LarrsonandIamtrulysorrytointerruptyouatthismoment,” spilled Laura, simultaneously giving a cursory knock before whipping the door open, slamming it shut and locking it in Amber’s face, drawing a panicked, involuntary yelp from Mr. Wilson behind the curtain.

“Uhh…hi?” squeaked Mr. Wilson.

——

“Okokok. What do you think Mr. Wilson looks like?” Candace suddenly stops to ask, adjusting her posture with a bounce so she is facing me with crossed legs, her eyes bright in the way that tells me there is no way I am getting this right.

“I dunno, I was originally imagining a 6’3”, 225 black guy that’s built like a wide out for the Seahawks, but then you said he was 5’5” and three quarters. So, maybe more of a running back instead of a wide out?”

“So unoriginal!” she groans, giving me a playful slap on the thigh. “Not to mention, cliche…”

——

From behind the curtain, a 30-something-year-old Asian man poked his head out, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

——

“Wait what?! How is he Asian with a last name like Wilson?!”

Candace smiles at me broadly, pleased that she stuck the landing with her storytelling.

“He was adopted from Korea when he was like, 1,” she proudly says.

“But Asian guys…”

“Oh come on Chris!” Candace sighs. “Yes, they tend to be smaller than Western and European guys, but there are like, 3 billion of them. At least one of them is going to be hung like a moose just by pure genetic chance.”

“And besides, I have yet to run into an Asian guy that couldn’t fill me up just fine,” she finishes, with a smirk.

“And just how many Asian dicks have you run into?”

“Do you want me to finish the story or not?”

“Fine,” I sigh, setting a reminder to harass her about it later.

——

“I…I’m not…I’m sorry, did I push the button by accident? It would be something I would do. I’m clumsy when I’m nervous,” he continued.

“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wilson!” Dr. Larrson smiled widely, smoothing her skirt and straightening herself out after the half sprint down the hall, gaslighting Mr. Wilson into thinking nothing is wrong despite the violent rattling of the locked exam room door handle and muffled protests from the other side.

“I’m…I’m just…” Laura paused, suddenly realizing that she had not exactly thought everything through.

“…I was tied up with another patient and had sent Amber in to not keep you waiting,” she finally lied. “Ordinarily I like to meet with all of my patients first to discuss their, uh, concerns.”

“I see,” Mr. Wilson replied, somewhat convinced. The whole appointment had been unconventional from the start, so Dr. Larrson’s explanation sounded entirely plausible.

“So, uh…should I stop?”

“Oh! Yes, I’m sorry! Yes, uh, if you are at a good stopping point, why don’t you take a break and, uh, come back to the exam table for me,” Laura answered, suddenly realizing she’s never interrupted one of her patients mid-jerk before.

“You scared me so bad I lost all my wood anyway,” he said, taking a moment before emerging from behind the curtain in his gown.

“I do apologize about that,” Laura replied.

Their height difference was striking. Laura, just shy of 6 feet without her 4-inch heels, could easily see the top of Mr. Wilson’s head as he stood before her in his socks. She was quite certain she weighed more than him, his slender build looking like it couldn’t be more than 135 pounds soaking wet.

“So, Mr. Wilson, what brings you in today?” she asked, taking a seat on a rolling stool.

Laura was doing her best to not let her eyes wander, focusing on Mr. Wilson’s face as he made his way from the curtain to the table. Sitting, his gown reached past his spread knees, hands resting between them as if hiding something.

“You…you can call me Michael. Mr. Wilson is my dad,” he began.

“Very well, Michael,” Laura politely obliged, patiently waiting for him to begin.

“So…ummm, this is going to sound ridiculous,” he continued, his eyes glancing at hers before falling to the floor. “But I am considering a penis reduction.”

“Well, Mr. Wilson, Michael. Please rest assured that your request is not ridiculous,” Dr. Larrson replied with a soft smile. “Our office specializes in helping patients with unique human reproductive issues live their best lives.”

“That being said, may I ask why you are considering a penis reduction procedure?”

“Ummmm…well…it’s my mother, you see.”

“Your *mother* wants you to get a penis reduction?” Laura cautiously began, getting ready to call the authorities, adopted son or not.

“Well, yeah,” he continued, naive enough to not understand how things sounded. “My…uh…penis…has always been on the large side, even when I was an infant. Then puberty hit and it seemed like it didn’t stop growing until I reached college. It’s like all my growth hormones went to my penis, so I never made it past 5’5” and three quarters or whatever Amber said.”

“PE in high school was awful. I got made fun of a lot in the showers. They started calling me ‘Tripod’ and asked if I fed my dick Miracle Grow,” he added.

“High school kids can be very cruel. Especially when they are jealous of others who are different,” Laura sincerely offered, resisting the urge to pat Michael on the thigh.

“And somehow, the girls were even worse. I’d always get tricked into showing it to them, thinking they genuinely liked me, only for it to turn out to be a dare or something,” he continued, his eyes focused on the floor.

“Things were rough until my senior year. That’s when I met Kaya. She was a transfer student from Korea. We hit it off, being the same ethnicity and her being short like me and me being curious about what my birth parents might have been like. It also helped that she hadn’t heard the rumors.”

“But one day, being the horny teenagers that we were, we thought it was time to take the next step.”

“An important moment in anyone’s life,” Laura noted.

“Yeah, something like that,” he sighed.

“It…it didn’t end well,” he finished, lifting his head to look Laura in the eye.

“What happened?”

“She was so determined,” he softly said. “And…and we tried…”

“And?”

“She ended up needing 4 stitches, ummm, down there. Her parents were pissed.”

“I could imagine so,” Laura replied, cringing at the thought.

“So of course once word got out about what I did to Kaya, no girl would come near me with a 10 foot pole,” he finished.

“And so what does your mother have to do with all of this?”

“Well, she’s worried that I’m never going to find someone and die alone. She’s had this dream I would marry a sweet Christian girl from our church. But several of them were my classmates…”

“And now your reputation proceeds you.”

“Yeah. Now my mom’s all like, ‘No one is ever going to date you, much less marry you, with that elephant trunk in your pants.’”

“And so you’re here.”

“And so I’m here.”

A silence falls over the room.

“Out of curiosity, have you ever tried to have sex again after Kaya?”

“Yeah, I’ve had a couple of one night stands. They weren’t quite the disaster as my first time…”

“But they probably weren’t enjoyable or fulfilling, either?” Laura guessed.

“Yes. Very much so,” he confirmed. “It also doesn’t help that I’m short, so the only girls attracted to me in the first place are too small. Like, impossible-to-fit-without-putting-them-in-the-hospital small.”

“Well Michael, I can certainly appreciate your motivation for considering the procedure,” Laura said, leaning back slightly on her stool.

She took a moment to consider him as he sat on the exam table, his short, scrawny form swimming in his exam gown. From what she could see in front of her, Amber had to be fucking with her about his numbers. But his naïveté seemed genuine, as did his story. Here was a man that seemed like he could truly use her help.

“Let me see what we can do for you,” she continued. “I’d like to begin by taking a look at you. If you will, please stand up and lift your gown for me.”

“Oh…ok,” he replied, sliding off the table and onto his feet. Taking a deep breath, Michael raised his gown to allow a strange woman to examine his privates for the second time today.

Hanging in Laura’s face was easily the largest dick she had ever seen in her life. Uncut tip reaching his knee, it was the size of her forearm, even it its flaccid state. Against his slender frame it legitimately looked like a third leg. Excessive foreskin bordering on grotesque completely hid his glans from view, leading Laura to wonder just how much bigger he could get. The cold air raised goose bumps on the loose brown skin of his shaft, its color a shade darker than the rest of his complexion. The base of his shaft was concealed in a thick bush of long, coarse, jet black hairs that looked like they had never seen a pair of scissors in their lives.

“Alright, Michael, I am just going to double check Amber’s measurements here,” Laura professionally said with the best poker face she could muster, starting her tape measure in his forest of pubes and extending it down to the very tip of his excess foreskin.

——

“You guys count foreskin? That’s not fair!”

“Oh my god, you can’t be serious,” Candace groans. “This isn’t a competition!”

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair for guys who are circumcised!”

“Chris! Even if it did matter, would you rather have me touch their junk to pull it back to get a true measurement?”

“I’m just saying, guy code says to not count the foreskin.”

“Those are more like guidelines. And it’s not like it even adds a significant amount! For most it’s not even an eighth of an inch.”

“And what was it for Michael?”

“Like three quarters of an inch, but he’s an exception.”

“Three…three quarters of an inch? That’s like a quarter my soft length!”

“I told you it was almost gross looking!”

“Wait…how do you know?”

“It’s…uh…in Laura’s notes. And, uh, Amber told me,” Candace cautiously replies. “How else would I know what it looks like?!”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…”

——

“31 centimeters,” Laura called out, keeping her voice steady, giving a cursory look at Amber’s number as if she needed to double check.

“And, 19 centimeters, very good,” Laura added, wrapping the middle of his shaft with her tape measure.

“So, what do you think?” Michael asked, dropping his gown the moment the tape freed his cock.

“It is very impressive.”

“I meant, do you think I am a good candidate for a reduction.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Laura stammered, blushing a bit at the misunderstanding. “I mean, not I think that…”

“What I meant to say,” she began again, collecting herself, Michael’s cock making it difficult to speak, ”is that I am not quite done with my assessment yet. So let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I believe Amber has explained to you what comes next?” Laura continued, getting back on track.

“Yeah. I guess I’m supposed to get aroused so you guys can take a second set of measurements?” he answered, still not quite convinced that his entire appointment wasn’t some sick joke.

“Precisely,” Laura confirmed.

“So please, proceed,” she added, rolling back a bit in her chair to give him more space, giving up the fight and staring at his crotch.

“So, behind the curtain?” he began, taking a step towards it.

“Oh! No! I am sorry,” Dr. Larrson replied, dramatically bringing one hand to her chest and the other reaching for his gown to stop him.

“Yes, that was the original instruction. But, you see, Amber alerted me to your, uh, measurements,” Laura continued. “And it was a good thing too, because you meet the threshold where observation is necessary.”

——

“*Observation is necessary?*” I start, eyeing Candace skeptically.

“Oh, yes. In this case, it was totally necessary. Totally,” Candace defends with a stupid grin on her face.

——

“It’s…it’s protocol for our office. It’s a safety issue, yes, this is for the safety of you, my patient, when, when they are large. Especially large,” Laura explained, finally landing on something that sounded vaguely plausible.

“But…”

“Oh! Yes, I know it is awkward,” Laura said, guessing at his protest. “But trust me, this is all very routine and professional.”

“So, uh, just go ahead. I will be right here,” she continued, rolling back a couple more feet. “If you close your eyes, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Okaaay…” Michael reluctantly replied. Accepting that Laura was clearly not going to leave the room, he raised his gown, closed his eyes, and brought his free hand to his massive log.

He started slowly, loosely gripping his soft cock that hung limp like a well worn garden hose, running his hand along its length. His eyes tightly shut, Laura now blatantly stared, nibbling her lip. She watched as his shaft flexed and stretched, sagging under its own weight when he would reach the end. Even soft, his hand could not close around his own girth, a twist of his wrist needed for full coverage. With each pass, his hairy sack started to loosen, his balls gently swaying freely between his legs.

——

“Don’t worry, they were nowhere near as ‘magnificent’ as yours.”

“I didn’t ask.”

——

Lacking a backrest on her stool, Laura scooted against the counter and got comfortable, crossing her legs, the Christian Louboutin on her right foot lazily hanging from just her toes. The sight before her was more than enough to get her depths stirring.

Michael gradually began to relax, his mind starting to take him to a far off place, the tension in his neck and shoulders releasing. A subtle increase in pace. A slight tightening of his grip. The blood starting to flow.

Laura didn’t dare blink as his cock began to inflate. With each, long, slow jerk, his foreskin was pulled back, teasing a peak at his smooth, shiny, deliciously shaped, bulbous head. Her breathing heavy, she found her hand straying through the sizable gap in her tight button up blouse, giving her right breast a gentle squeeze as her legs, right crossed over left, rubbed tightly together.

“Sor…sorry,” Michael suddenly said, his eyes popping open, causing Laura to nearly stumble off her stool as she whipped her hand out of her shirt, causing the top two buttons to burst apart and his chart to clatter to the floor.

“You…you startled me!” Laura tried to convincingly explain, bending over to pick up his chart, giving him a full view down her half open top. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Sorry,” he continued. “It…it takes awhile to get him hard.”

“I can imagine,” Laura reassured. “It’s fine Michael. Take your time. I’m in no rush here. Just jotting down observations on your…condition.”

“In fact,” she added, a new thought popping into her head. “Why don’t you try this.”

She grabbed a bottle of lube from the counter and a pair of gloves, then elegantly rolled over to Michael and his half hard cock. Gloves donned, she pumped several squirts of the lube onto her finger tips.

“May I?” she politely asked, hands poised over his rod.

——

“Oh please! Like he couldn’t do it himself?!”

“Oh, no! Of course not!” Candace replies with a grin. “It’s…it’s medical grade lube! Technically, it needs to be applied only by a medical professional.”

“Medical-grade lube? Come on, that’s not even a thing!”

“Sure it is,” Candace this defends, though this time not resorting to the internet for evidence.

“I thought you said she didn’t jerk people off herself?”

“She wasn’t jerking him off. She was…”

“Let me guess, she was ‘palpating his shaft to look for abnormal growths.’”

“Precisely,” Candace says with a smirk. “And for the record, I said she wasn’t going to jerk *you* off.”

“Why not?”

“First of all, ask yourself if you *really* want to know the answer to that,” Candace says, narrowing her gaze. “Second, and perhaps more importantly, ask yourself if you should really be admitting to *me* that you wanted a hand job from my boss.”

“Point taken. Carry on…”

——

“Uhhh…sure?” Michael answered, still not quite believing what is happening.

With a smile, Laura dabbed the lube along the length of his shaft, then gently grabbed it to rub it in.

“There, isn’t that better?” she nearly purred, pausing to add several more pumps of lube, having grossly underestimated the amount of surface area she needed to cover.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s better,” he sighed, his eyes closing again.

More like massaging a third arm, she rubbed the lube over his growing length and around his girth, marveling at its sheer size. Unable to get even her long fingers completely around him, she resorted to using two hands instead.

“I can definitely see how most women would find you intimidating,” she said, staring at his lubed up cock.

“A penis this size really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he replied, his eyes now open, flittering between her hand job and her loosened top and very generous cleavage.

“Mmmm,” Laura simply sighed in agreement, her focus on the growing log in her hand. With his arousal, the veins of his shaft began to protrude, adding tantalizing texture to his otherwise smooth, clear skin.

His arousal forced his glans through his foreskin, the remaining excess tucked behind his ridge. Laura pulled it taut, and found it well maintained, no unpleasant surprises awaiting her in his folds.

“You are doing a good job of caring for yourself down here,” she said in a matronly voice, belying her own building arousal that was threatening to soak through her thong.

“Thanks…” Michael sighed, his erection nearing full length under her soft touch. “It’s…it’s nearly there.”

“I can tell,” she cooed, the engorged slab of flesh resting heavily in her hands. Testing him, she brought her fingers to his tip and lightly dragged the backs of her gloved nails to his ridge.

“How is your sensitivity?” she asked, looking up to gauge his reaction.

“That…that felt good,” he sighed, his mind falling further and further into the depths of his pleasure.

“And can you feel this?” she asked, her nails lightly dancing past his ridge and down his shaft.

“Yeah…oh yeah,” he sighs. The beat of his pounding heart visibly pulsed in the flooded veins that popped lustily through the thin, sensitive skin of his fully engorged shaft.

“Very good,” Laura practically sighed, struggling to stay focused on her remaining tasks.

“Well I think it’s time for that second measurement, don’t you think?” she said, regrouping, to which Michael simply nodded in lazy pleasure.

“Alright…” she began, running her tape measure along his erect length.

——

“35 centimeters?” I interrupt, feeling the need to put in my two cents.

“Is that your final answer?” Candace replies with a rather naughty look.

“Depends, what do I get if I’m right?”

“Hmmmm,” Candace playfully contemplates, bringing a finger to her lips. “How about a blowjob that will knock your socks off?”

“And if I’m wrong?” I ask, nearly agreeing to the terms before hearing the consequences.

She simply glances over at Sheila.

“Uhhhh…” I stammer, weighing my options. Candace does give great head after all.

“37!” I shout. “Final answer!”

“40!” she triumphantly states to my horror.

“But according to Gemini, the largest on record is 36.5!” I plead.

“Why am I not surprised that you looked it up?”

“I teach middle school sex ed, remember? Every year I always have one smart ass that will ask.”

“Did you tell them who has the largest testicles on record?”

“Of course not! And they never ask, thank you very much.”

“I think I need to pay your class a visit one day,” she says with a very evil grin.

“Over my dead body,” I counter, making a mental note to tell my administration that under no circumstances should my girlfriend be allowed on campus.

“Serves you right for trusting AI,” she scoffs with a grin, returning to her victory. “And besides, Laura hasn’t published his case study yet. She wants him for herself for now.”

——

“Well, congratulations, Michael. You have the longest, thickest penis to ever bless this office,” Laura inappropriately admitted.

“Thanks?” Michael replied, somehow unsurprised at Laura’s declaration.

“So, does that mean you’ll do my reduction?” he continued, hopefully.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she blissfully said for the second time, her hand going right back to blatantly jerking him off.

“Just…just one last thing before I make my final assessment,” she continued, pausing just long enough to roll to cabinet for a specimen cup and back to the exam table.

“I…I would like to obtain a sperm sample from you. For…for research purposes.”

——

(Author’s note: This is a long one. Part 4.2 arrives tomorrow, per sub rules.)

“Thank you so much for coming in, Chris! It’s good to see you again.”

Dr. Larrson gets up from her desk and greets me as I walk in the door to her office, her hand outstretched.

“Nice office,” I comment, glancing at a commanding view of Lake Washington out of her huge windows. The sun is out for once, and only a few clouds hang in the September sky.

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile, offering me a seat across from her. Sans lab coat, she looks even more stunning than usual. Her wavy blonde hair up in a bun, she is wearing her usual tight fitting button up dress top, this time in lavender. Through the gaps in her shirt, my peripheral vision tells me that her bra is the same color as I fight to maintain eye contact.

“So let me begin by saying that I do not have any bad news or anything for you. I know that’s what goes through people’s minds when they receive an invite to a doctor’s actual office.”

“That’s a relief,” I say, having legitimately lost a little bit of sleep over this appointment.

“How have you been?”

“Not bad actually. Not too many troublemakers in my class this year.”

“So hopefully the headaches will back off.”

“Hopefully.”

“Any new pain?”

“Nope.”

“Increased sensitivity?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“Trouble having or maintaining an erection?”

“Definitely not.”

“Any changes in ejaculatory volume?”

“Nope. Pretty consistent.”

“And how long have you and Candace been sleeping together?”

“Like, a couple of months,” I answer before clamping my hand to my mouth.

Shit.

“How’d you know?”

“Well, it was quite obvious actually,” Dr. Larrson says, focusing on my chart before glancing at me over her very expensive reading glasses with a sly grin.

“After your last appointment, she and I had a little ‘chat’,” she says. “She left in a pretty bad mood, as you can imagine.”

“But the next day she came in with a smug look on her face and a freshly-fucked glow. I’ve been around the block enough times to know what she did.”

“In fact, I was willing to bet my right tit on it,” she adds, now looking at me. “I’m glad I was right. I’m partial to that one.”

“Oh,” I sheepishly reply with an very guilty look on my face.

“I guess I should be thanking you. She’s been in a good mood since.”

“So…uh…you aren’t mad and aren’t going to tell me that she and I can’t see each other anymore?”

“Well, it’s certainly not ideal,” Dr. Larrson replies, “but she isn’t exactly your provider. I am. So there’s a little bit of a gray area there.”

“And well, for you, exceptions can be made,” she adds, leaning back in her chair.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” Dr. Larrson asks with a smirk. “For research purposes, of course.”

“Right, research purposes…”

——

“Hello?”

“Hello? Chris? Chris Fogerty?”

“Yes?” I hesitantly replied, the voice on the other end of my building front door callbox phone number sounding vaguely familiar.

“It’s Candace!”

“Candace? Candace who?” My brain was working overtime trying to make the connection. Keeping names and faces straight is not easy when you are a middle school teacher.

“Candace Stevens! From Dr. Larrson’s office!”

“Candace?! What are you doing here?!”

“I…uh…I have some of your test results that I wanted to bring to you.”

“Test results? Don’t you just share those in MyHealth?”

“Will you just let me in?! Unless you want me to tell you the results of YOUR SPERM SAMPLE out here!” Candace shouted so loudly that I was almost certain I heard her in my apartment from the street.

“Will you…fine! FINE!” I said with a huff, and pushed # on my keypad to let her in, not willing to call her bluff.

I had just enough time to organize my students’ papers before I heard a sharp knock on my door. I opened it only enough to see Candace’s face smiling at me devilishly.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied before forcing her way in, stuffing a six back of beer into my unprepared arms.

“What the? Wait!” I stammered to her back as she had already taken five steps into my kitchen.

“Nice place. Not bad for a middle school teacher.”

“Thanks. They subsidize,” I began before it registered that Candace just invited herself in.

“Wait, no. Candace! What the hell? Why are you here? How do you even know where I live?” I demanded, placing the beer on my kitchen counter.

She held up a finger to silence me and grabbed a beer, popped it opened, and chugged it in one go.

Buuuurrrrppp

“Ah, I needed that,” she sighed, wiping her mouth before proceeding.

“So after your appointment, you could imagine that Laura was pretty pissed,” she started to explain.

“I thought she said no one was going to get into trouble!”

“Chris! You’re a middle school teacher! How do you not know that means someone is definitely getting in trouble?!”

“But you guys aren’t a middle school!”

“I’m not so sure sometimes,” she quipped before grabbing a second beer and passing a third to me. This one she cracked open and thankfully just started to sip. I followed suit.

“You would have thought she would have been proud of me for thinking on my feet like that,” Candace continued. “But nooooo…it was all ‘you broke protocol, Candace’, ‘that was a dumb thing to do, Candace,’,‘we have cleaners for that, Candace’,’you just wanted to suck his dick, Candace’. Blahblahblah!” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, with some sincerity, “but that still doesn’t explain why you are here.”

“Well, she really killed my vibe, I tell you what,” she said, suddenly taking the liberty to start opening my cabinets, looking for god knows what.

“And the way I figure, that’s your fault,” she continued. “Don’t you have anything to eat around here? I’m famished. I had like, 6 gummy bears for lunch.”

“My…my fault?” I rebutted. “How was that my fault. I seem to recall that I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t believe me!”

“Oh come on Chris, no one would have believed that you would have filled a 25 milliliter specimen cup. I mean, look at you!” she argued, pausing her raid of my bottom cabinets to look up over the counter at me, giving my body a once over for emphasis.

“And nuts the size of softballs weren’t a hint?”

“Look, no where in the history of documented medical literature is it suggested that testicle size has a direct correlation to semen output,” she began, rising to her feet, pointing my treasured Mickey Mouse spatula that she managed to unearth at me.

“Why do you even have this?” she spat, tossing it on the counter.

“That was from my Nana.”

“Oh,” Candace said, suddenly at a loss for words.

“But at any rate,” she quickly picked up again, “Chris, I have been doing this for years. Years. And only once has someone even come remotely close to filling that jar. Pun intended.”

“And even that one was only 20 milliliters,” she continued, once again turning her attention back to my cabinets on a quest for sustenance. Realizing that there was little that I could say to absolve me of her pointed blame, I moved on.

“How did you even find me, anyway?”

“It’s all up in your records.”

“Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?” I pleaded, knowing I had a pretty strong case with this one.

“Come on,” she sighed as she finally made it to my fridge, unsatisfied with her assessment of my dry goods. “I showed you my tits, sucked your dick, swallowed like, a pint of your cum and suddenly you are worried about your privacy?”

“Ah ha! Jackpot!”

Candace emerged from my fridge with a large pizza box that she eagerly tossed on my counter and flipped open to reveal three quarters of a large pizza. Without asking, she dove right in.

“I was saving that,” I sighed.

“And by my count, you at least owe me dinner,” she reasoned with a mouth full of pizza. “This will do. Cold pizza is my favorite.”

With a sigh, I pulled the box closer to me and grabbed a slice for myself. We stood at my counter for the next 8 minutes and 34 seconds in silence, sounds of our chewing punctuated only by sips of beer. Candace spent most of the time staring at me, silently judging me like some sort of psychopath.

“So,” she finally said once my leftover pizza that was supposed to last the week had been reduced to lunch for tomorrow, breaking the awkward silence, her mood noticeably less manic now that she had some food.

“I heard you got the ‘two finger’ treatment after I left.”

“The two-finger…” I began, with a confused look before it connected. “Oh, yeah. You could say that.” I felt my face flush thinking about the memory that I had managed to partially wash from my mind.

“How’d it go?”

“Well…”

\\

“On behalf of all of us here, Chris, I really need to apologize for Candace’s actions,” Dr. Larrson began once the shock of Candace’s confession wore off. Candace had been unceremoniously excused from the room, and a part of me was a little concerned I got her into a heap of trouble.

“It…it really wasn’t her fault,” I offered. “She really didn’t have a lot of time to react, and I’m sure she did what she thought was the best action at the time, all things considered.”

“I would be hard pressed to find any scenario in which giving a patient a blow job is the best course of action,” Dr. Larrson sighed.

“At least I got all of my questions answered,” she continued, searching for the silver lining.

“So, Chris, today there is another test I would like to do,” she continued, my blood pressure rising at the word ‘test’. She turned and opened a drawer to pull out a diagram of the male reproductive system.

“What subject do you teach, by the way?”

“Science, actually,” I said, my interest peaked with the diagram since human reproduction is actually one of the topics I cover with the 8th graders.

“Ah, so you may already be very familiar with this,” Dr. Larrson continued, looking relieved that she wasn’t going to have to explain things like I was a five year old.

“But to recap, your semen is a mixture of fluids from 4 different locations,” she began. “Your testicles, of course, is where the sperm in the semen comes from,” she continued, pointing at the cut-away image of a scrotum, testis, and epididymus.

“But the testicles’ contribution is typically only 1 to 5% of the total seminal volume. Additional fluids come from the seminal vesicles, prostate gland, and the bulbourethral glands, here, here and here.”

A part of me felt like I was back in college again, being taught as opposed to doing the teaching. It was a nice feeling.

“So, what I would like to investigate today, at least initially, is the current condition of these three glands.”

“I see,” I replied, a little wary of how she intended to conduct such an investigation.

“So, uh…how do you check those glands?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I was hoping I was wrong.

“Well, digitally.”

“Like, with a digital camera?”

“No. ‘Digitally’,” she said, holding up her middle and pointer fingers together. “The camera is for later.”

“For later?!” I choked, but then composed myself.

“You know what, forget I asked about the camera,” I continue, trying to turn back time. ”So today, in so many words, you want to give me a prostate exam?”

“Essentially, yes,” she replied. “You are far below the typically screening age for prostate cancer, of course. It is more just a chance for me to get a better understanding of what is going on down there.”

“So if you will, can you please stand up, and…” Dr. Larrson paused mid-sentence when she noticed my gown.

“Why do you have the gown on backwards today?” she abruptly asked while turning her eyes away.

I looked down and noticed that my cock, shriveled from the cold air of the exam room, was peaking through the open flaps.

“Oh, uh, sorry…” I stammered. “Candace said to turn it this way today!”

\\

“I didn’t think you would actually do it,” Candace chuckled, fresh beer in hand. “Serves that bitch right that she had to see that.”

“Hey! What are you trying to say?!”

“Chris! You could be Henry-Fucking-Cavill and she still wouldn’t have appreciated being flashed with his dick. Very few women enjoy that,” Candace explained.

“But she was going to see my junk later anyway!” I protested.

“Yeah, but the difference is that she’s expecting that. You just looked like wanted to be a perv and show off by having the gown on backwards,” she sniggered.

——

“That wasn’t why I flinched,” Dr. Larrson says, clearly wanting to prove Candace wrong.

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it wasn’t. It was just that it was…” Dr. Larrson trails off. “You know what, never mind.”

“No, no, no. It was just that it was, what?” I demand.

“That it was so small!” Dr. Larrson spits, much to my chagrin. “I mean, I saw your baseline measurements, but seeing it in real life is way different than seeing numbers on a form.”

“And for the record, I wouldn’t mind it one bit if Henry Cavill flashed his junk at me.”

——

“Goddammit,” I sighed, looking at Candace’s smiling face. “Anyway…”

\\

“She would,” Laura sighed, realizing that Candace had one-upped her.

“Opening in the back from now on, ok? No matter what Candace tells you.”

“Got it.”

“So as I was saying, if you will please stand up and turn around. Place your hands on the exam table. Yes, perfect, just like that.”

My cheeks that were already flushed with embarrassment only grew redder when the realization of what was about to happen began to set in.

“Just relax. It’ll just take a moment,” she continued. Looking straight ahead with a million mile stare, I didn’t exactly see Dr. Larrson put on a pair of gloves and add a very generous dollop of lubricant to her two fingers, but I am very glad she did.

“Ok, you ready?” she asked, placing her off hand on my shoulder to bend me over a bit further. My butt cheeks involuntarily clenched when I felt the tips of her fingers touch my hole.

“On three, ok?” she warned and I gave a quick nod.

“One.”

“Two!”

The air left my lungs as her fingers plunged into my unprepared hole. My hands reflexively grasped at the paper covering of the exam table as Dr. Larrson probed my depths.

\\

“That was a pretty dick move of her, going on 2 instead of 3,” I chirped, to a rather gleeful looking Candace.

“Well it worked, didn’t it?”

“What do you mean, ‘it worked’?”

“Most guys reflexively clench during a digital exam,” Candace explained.

“Some clench so hard that you really can’t jam anything up there,” she continued, demonstrating the two finger motion in the air unnecessarily for my benefit.

“So the trick is to do it when they are still relaxed and unawares.”

“Still a dick move.”

“Such a baby,” she sighed. “You should be happy it was Dr. Larrson doing it. She’s got slim fingers.”

“So what happened next?” Candace then asked, clearly entertained.

\\

“And we’re done,” Dr. Larrson said as her fingers evacuated my backside almost as soon as it began.

“So, the good thing is that in your unaroused state, everything seems normal. That is, nothing back there is enlarged or abnormal feeling. Oh, you can turn back around.”

I sheepishly turned back away from the exam table to face her as she continued her explanation, being sure this time to completely cover myself. That was when the burning sensation in my ass hit, causing me to wince.

“Sorry about that,” Dr. Larrson said, noticing my discomfort while doffing her gloves and tossing them before adding some notes to my chart. “There is a numbing ingredient in the lubricant, but not much helps the first time.”

\\

“Oh come on, with all the sex you’ve had, no one has ever tried to stick a finger up your butt?” Candace asked incredulously.

“What?! No!” I replied slightly appalled, yet somehow not surprised at the words leaving Candace’s mouth.

“You really need to get out more,” she sighed, taking another big swig of beer. “Or at least start dating funner women.”

“‘Funner’ isn’t even a word.”

“Sure it is! See look,” Candace declared, pausing to look it up on her phone.

“‘Informal comparative form of the adjective fun,’” she read back to me.

“So it’s not a word.”

“Whatever,” she dismissed.

“My point is that a man of your talents,” she continued, pausing to dramatically glance down through my counter top at my crotch, “should have experienced some freaky ass shit by now.”

“And I mean more than fucking a ballerina. Way more,” she added, reading my mind and beating me to my example.

“Wait, did Dr. Larrson tell you about the ballerina?!”

“Of course she did. She told the whole office. You are kind of a celebrity in there.”

——

“Not the whole office,” Dr. Larrson defends. “Just Candace, and Chloe, and Amber, and Dylan…”

“So the whole office.”

“No, I didn’t tell Jackie!”

“Why not?”

“She’s on maternity leave. I didn’t get a chance to tell her yet.”

——

“But I digress,” Candace finished. “Continue, though I’m pretty sure I know what happens next. She just got done probing you. Go.”

“Thanks for that,” I replied, not really needing her prompt to remind me.

\\

“So I think you can imagine what the next step would be,” Dr. Larrson continued, somewhat apologetically.

“Probably has something to do with seeing…well feeling…how things are down there when I’m aroused?”

“You catch on quick,” Dr. Larrson said with a kind smile. “So, you know the drill. Porn behind the curtains. Call button when you are ready.”

“Oh, and Candace was lying about our IT being able to see what you stream. And even if he could…”

“There’s no judgement. Right, got it,” I replied, finishing her sentence.

“Good. I’ll leave you to it then,” she said before closing the door behind her.

As before, I made my way behind the curtain, this time not even bothering with the well worn magazines. Not believing Dr. Larrson’s reassurance, I kept the porn search on my phone pretty vanilla.

I mindlessly scrolled for a few moments trying to find something that tickled my fancy, but I was coming up empty. It didn’t help that my mind kept on straying back to what happened the day of my sperm sample.

Finally I stumbled upon a pretty tame clip of a very buxom strawberry blonde in a tiny bikini, writhing her body to a cheesy porn soundtrack over a soaped up Corvette. Ignoring the fact that she was putting way too much of her weight on the supple hood (Get off the car, woman! You’re going to leave a dent!), the way the sun glistened down on her perfect, wet, soapy, pale skin was doing it for me. The way she moved. The way teased. The way she bit her lip and smiled.

She leaned over the car, showing off her smooth cheeks that completely swallowed her bikini bottom, camera zooming in between her legs to give a tempting glimpse at the ripples in the thin fabric formed from the prize beneath. Were those a few stray pubes that I saw, spying dark hairs peeking out the sides of her thong?

She smoothly flipped around and threw her chest out, reflecting the glare of the intense sun off the tops of her huge mounds. Her blue eyes were striking against her wavy strawberry blonde hair. The camera then framed her from the waist up as she started to play with her bikini covered tits. The tease was the appeal of this one, and I was completely invested, especially when her left tit started to pop out, showing a hint of areola just like…

\\

“…and then I figured it was time to call Dr. Larrson back,” I abruptly shifted, re-thinking my storytelling habits.

“Waitwaitwait. What?” Candace said, slapping her hand on my counter to halt the proceedings. “Just like, what?”

“What do you mean, ‘Just like what’?”

“You said you were getting off to her tits, and that they looked just like…”

Candace then loudly gasped with a sudden realization.

“Waitwaitwait. Chris, I swear to god…” she began, madly tapping away at her phone.

“Is this what you were watching?!” she demanded, holding her phone at full arm extension to give me a good, undeniable look at the opening scene of the exact porno I had described.

“Uhhh…maybe?”

“Maybe? Ha! Maybe…” she muttered, tapping away at her phone again.

“That,” she continued, “is Abigail Summers!”

This time she flipped her phone around to display a portrait shot of said Abigail Summers. Holding it next her face, the picture bore a striking resemblance to…

“Do you think I look like Abigail Summers?!” Candace accused in such away that I wasn’t sure if there was a right answer. She glared at me with daggers, then at her phone, then back at me.

“Uhhhh…a little?”

A lot actually.

——

“You know, my pill of a stepson told me the same thing about Candace,” Dr. Larrson breaks. “I guess that little shit was right.”

——

“I am WAY hotter than that bitch!” Candace shrieked. “And my tits are WAY bigger. Nicer too!”

“I look like Abigail Summers…” she continued to dramatically mutter to herself, dismissing my opinion with fluttering fingers.

“I’m sorry Chris, please, continue. I want to hear the end of this,” she added, voice thick with sarcasm. “Please, tell me how you continued to jerk off to me.”

“Well, technically, it was to Abigail Summers,” I snarked.

“Whatever,” Candace sighed. Despite her best efforts, I was pretty sure she wasn’t really mad at me. I don’t think.

“I want to hear how Laura shoved her fingers back up your ass. Hopefully she forgot to add more lube.”

\\

“Well someone looks like he knows the routine,” Dr. Larrson said upon her return, finding my erect cock still in my hand, balls the size of small coconuts hanging low between my legs.

“These are certainly as advertised,” she continued, kneeling down after donning a pair of gloves and helping herself to a physical examination of my engorged scrotum. Honestly, it was refreshing to not have someone be shell shocked at the size of my aroused testicles.

“They are magnificent.”

\\

“They are magnificent? Are you kidding me? She didn’t really say that,” Candace interrupted. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought she was jealous.

“In so many words, yes. That’s what she said.”

“And she calls me unprofessional.”

\\

“So, I’ve come prepared this time,” Dr. Larrson continued before presenting a large beaker that could pass for a small bucket that was half filled with a familiar gel.

“I think we should be able to get you in this 2-liter beaker,” she said, giving me little warning before raising it up around my scrotum. Mouth just wide enough to fit around me, I exhaled sharply when my nuts hit the gel.

“Sorry, I tried to warm it up a bit before I got here,” she apologetically claimed, glancing up at me before returning her focus to the task at hand.

“Alright, and…” she started, pausing to read the meniscus. “1500 cc’s. Remarkable.”

Satisfied with her measurement, she lowered the beaker and wiped me dry, her gentle touch further engorging my sack.

“I understand that they just keep getting bigger until the end,” she said, her hand still patting my nuts, “but we will take what we can get. I’m quite certain there is nothing remotely close to that value in the literature.”

“That’s…that’s cool, I guess.”

“It’s a double-edged sword, Chris,” she continued, her hand massaging my junk. “On the one hand, it means you are incredibly special and unique. On the other, it means we’ve never seen it before and aren’t quite sure how to treat it.”

“But we’ll figure it out, now won’t we,” she concluded, giving my sack a final gentle pat.

\\

“I bet you liked that didn’t you, you little fucker,” Candace said, pointing her spoon at me. By this time she had raided my freezer for dessert and found some ice cream.

“She did have soft hands,” I admitted, mostly to annoy her.

“She does have soft hands…” Candace repeated in surprising agreement.

——

“You made it seem like I was molesting you or something!” Dr. Larrson cries.

“You kind of were.”

“I was not,” she sighs. “I was merely palpating your scrotum to check for abnormal growths.”

“So you were fondling my balls.”

“Just carry on with the story, Chris…” she groans.

——

\\

“Ok, almost done here,” Dr. Larrson said, pulling a couple of items out of a drawer. Thankfully, one was a tube of lube.

\\

“Dammit,” Candace loudly whispered under her breath.

\\

Curiously, the other was a Magnum condom.

“If you would be a dear and put this on for me,” she instructed, turning her attention to lubing up her gloved fingers.

“You see, we’ve found that many men have strong involuntary reactions to what is about to happen next,” she explained as I rolled on the Magnum, letting the excess length hang off the tip like I normally do. “Which is why we have them put these on.”

“Involuntary react…” I tried to ask, still a bit confused, but I never got the chance.

In one smooth motion, Dr. Larrson bent me over the exam table with one hand, and skillfully inserted the lubed fingers of her other hand straight into my unsuspecting asshole, drawing an audible yelp from my throat.

\\

“Oooh…the ‘sneak attack’! Always a good method,” Candace laughed, very satisfied with my violation.

\\

“Mmmm…fascinating,” Dr. Larrson said, her fingers probing my depths, seemingly taking her time.

My ass involuntarily clenched around her long, slender fingers, nerve endings that have no business being touched suddenly firing, my brain flooding with unfamiliar signals.

Then it happened. A single touch in the right spot to prime it, a second to fire the trigger. My vision went white as the most powerful involuntary orgasm of my life ripped through me, jizz blasting into the condom. As my knees went weak, Laura propped me up by driving her fingers deeper, which only added to the sensations. I’m sure I let out more than a few screams.

My brain only started working again when I felt a hand on my cock carefully pulling off the condom two minutes later.

“What…what just happened?” I hazily asked, post-orgasm clarity starting to hit.

\\

“She milked your prostate,” Candace piped in with a wicked smile.

“Yeah, that’s what she told me.”

“She was doing you a favor, if you think about it.”

“How so?”

“Well, it wasn’t like she could let you walk out of there in your condition. I mean, you can barely walk anyway when your nuts are that big,” Candace reasoned. “And it wasn’t like she was going to jerk you off. But she did need to check your prostate and glands, so she killed two birds with one stone.”

“It’s known as the male G-spot. In your aroused state, it wasn’t going to take much,” Candace added. “My ex loved it when I did that to him. So much so that I bought a strap-on for his birthday to use on him.”

“I kept it, of course.”

“Good to know,” I replied.

——

“Has she used it on you, yet?” Dr. Larrson asks, with a sly grin.

“Not yet,” I admit. “But she has threatened me with it several times.”

——

“How did the condom manage to stay on?” Candace asked, getting back to my account. “I have visions of it slipping off and making a mess everywhere.”

“Excellent elasticity and the fact that Laura’s a good multitasker.”

“Oh god,” Candace groaned.

“Apparently my ass was clenched so tight when I started cumming that she had a hard time pulling her fingers out,” I began. “She said she caught the condom just in time with her free hand before it slipped off and managed to keep it on me.”

“But that also meant she had to just let nature take its course and pray,” I continued. “She said in the end the condom was touching the floor.”

“Oh my god!” Candace laughed hysterically, almost spraying beer everywhere.

“Waitwaitwait…stop!” Candace gasped, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

“So she was like this…and this…and you were like…and the rubber was like…” Candace mimed a fair approximation of the sight someone would have been met with had they walked in on Dr. Larrson and I, tears of laughter running down her cheeks.

——

This time, it was Dr. Larrson’s turn to blush.

“I’m glad that bitch found it so funny,” she says with pursed lips.

“It took her three minutes to stop laughing enough so she could breathe,” I reply apologetically.

——

“So what was the assessment, once she was able to free her fingers from your ass?” Candace asked, still chuckling.

“She said everything felt normal back there, which she found surprising,” I replied, also smiling from her contagious laughter.

“She has some theory that most of my jizz is coming straight from balls, which, of course, is unheard of. But she’s pretty sure it’s a benign condition. Just inconvenient.”

“In other words, you aren’t dying.”

“It would appear that way.”

“Just an unexplained freak of nature.”

“You could say that.”

The glow of her laughter was slowly fading from her cheeks as the air returned to her lungs, colors softly blending under the warm hue of my kitchen pendant lights. The rest of my apartment was darkened by the Seattle twilight, sun having set an hour ago.

A sudden calm fell over my apartment. My story over, Candace’s curiosity satiated, the need for a good laugh fulfilled, we stood there looking at each other for a few moments in silence, sipping our beers.

“So. You wanna fuck?”

I nearly choked.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Do. You. Want. To. Fuck?”

“Let me get this straight, you come to my apartment building, scream my medical results on the street at the top of your lungs, barge in here and interrupt my plans, eat all pizza and ice cream, make me tell you about how I was violated by your boss, and now you are asking me if I want to have sex with you?!” I demanded.

“Yep.”

Her pale blue eyes stared straight into my soul.

“Are you wearing that bra I like?”

“You bet your cute little ass I am.”

We were all over each other in a heartbeat.

Lips locked together, tongues tasting the same pizza and beer and ice cream, our hands grasping at hair, clothes, bare skin. The top of her pink scrubs thrown across the kitchen, my face in her neck, a soft moan from her throat. Lifting her to the counter, empty beer cans clattering to the floor, my hands on her bra, cupping her breasts, her thighs pulling me close. A giggle when I struggled with the clasp, a sigh when her breasts were freed.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“They’re bigger and nicer than her’s, right?”

“I guess...”

Ooof

Her well earned shot to my stomach was enough to draw a small cough and laugh.

“Ass.”

I didn’t really hear call me that since I was too busy suckling her perfect, supple nipples.

——

“Well were they?”

“Huh?”

“Her tits. Were they ‘bigger and nicer’ than that Abigail chick’s?” Laura asks, complete with air quotes.

“Oh fuck yeah. They’re the nicest I’ve ever seen. Just don’t tell her I said that. Her head already barely fits in my apartment.”

——

Things downstairs were inflating fast. I lifted her off the counter and carried her to my bedroom, her legs hooked over my hips, our lips pressed together. She let out a squeal and giggle when I threw her on my bed, and I took that moment to rip off my shirt. She popped right back up and made a beeline for my pants, getting them and my boxers down to my ankles before I even knew what happened.

I was still trying to get my feet out of my pants when she put me in her mouth.

Cock rock hard, my balls were already swollen to inhuman proportions, yet she carried on like it was the most normal thing in the world.

——

“Honestly, it was an odd feeling,” I pause, looking at Dr. Larrson.

“Usually this is the part where the girl starts laughing. Or gets scared. Or starts treating me like a science experiment,” I continue.

“I mean, I don’t really remember anyone acting the way she did. It…it was…”

“I bet it was pretty nice,” Dr. Larrson finishes for me, a glint in her small smile.

“It was.”

——

She felt exquisite, her tongue stroking the underside of my shaft, her mouth taking me in completely, this time on her terms. A hard suck on my tip, then she moved to my monstrous sack, one hand massaging the left nut, her mouth on my right. Her eyes looking up at me the entire time.

Wanting more, needing more, I pulled her up to me for a deep kiss before pushing her back onto the bed and pulling off her scrub bottoms and pink thong. Sprawled on my bed on her back, I climbed on top of her and settled in between her thighs, my face buried in her neck. She smelled faintly of strawberry shampoo, deodorant, and the scent of someone who was on her feet and moving the entire day. Not bad, just…

Primal.

Like a person who needed this badly.

I’m sure I smelled of the same.

Our naked bodies pressed together, my bare chest rubbed against her soft breasts. Her thighs drew me in tight against her, my cock bent under her, pressed tight against her soaked arousal with the weight of my fully engorged sack.

I shifted to run my tip along her slit, feinting thrusts as tease. She wasn’t having any of that.

In one smooth move, she rolled and pinned me to the bed, her right hand managing to force mine together over my head, her left grabbing my cock that she was straddling over. We moaned in unison when she guided me in, her pussy completely enveloping my dick like it was always meant to be there.

Bent forward by the size of my sack, her breasts gently swayed beneath her as she slowly rocked and gyrated her hips, making sure to set each and everyone one of our ten thousand nerve endings on fire. I reached up for a kiss, vibrations of her voice box rattling my jaw as her clit rubbed hard against me.

Her breathing got heavier and she pushed me back down to the bed. Her nails dug into my chest as she rocked on me faster. Harder. Deeper. I brought my hands to her chest, making sure none of her erogenous zones were ignored. Gentle caresses. Gentle pinches.

A gentle, passionate scream.

Her thighs clenched hard against me and her eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy, her orgasm driving her nails deep into my skin.

Climax passing, her body, limp with pleasure, gently fell on mine. I slowly stroked her back that was slick with perspiration as she caught her breath, small spasms pulsing around my shaft.

Her soft kisses on my neck let me know she was ready for more.

I rolled her on her back, staying in the whole time, coming to rest on top with my hands in her hair. I gently thrusted, wanting this to last as long as possible, assuming nothing more past this moment. After all, with me, there is never a second night.

I was also now in the right position to reach my night stand, and my hand rifled around for a Magnum condom like it always did. Quickly finding it, I was about to pull out to put it on before we went too far.

She grabbed it from me and threw it across the room before pulling me close.

“Not a fucking chance,” she hissed in my ear before nipping my lobe with her teeth, simultaneously locking me in tight with her legs. “I want to feel it.”

I almost came on the spot.

“But…” I gasp and trail off, not wanting to fight it. There are moments in your life to just do it and worry about the consequences later. This was absolutely one of those moments.

And so it began. Our embrace became tighter. Our breathing, heavier. Our kisses, deeper. My thrusts harder. Her hips rocked in perfect rhythm with mine, drawing me, bringing me as close as two humans can possibly be.

Her soft scream was what put me over the edge.

I felt her clench around me the moment I released. With a low, guttural moan I came hard. By the third shot, my cum came spilling out of her. I could feel her try to milk it all.

Two minutes later when I finally slipped out, it looked like we had opened a gallon of cream and poured it over the bed.

“Holy fuck,” she blissfully whispered when I rolled off of her then pulled her on top of me to get her out of the wet spot. “I could feel every shot.”

“I lost count of how many times I just came,” she sighed, eyes softly closed.

Her pussy was still spasming, squirting my cum, its warmth streaming down my straddled thigh.

——

“Well that sounded pretty fucking magical,” Dr. Larrson says, subtly fanning herself. Perhaps once you start sleeping with her employees you are no longer just her patient.

“That was the first time I ever came…I mean ejaculated in anyone without a condom.”

“You’re kidding?” she says. “Did you tell Candace that? I’m sure she would love to have that feather in her cap.”

“Yeah, I did. And you’re right. She was quite proud of herself for being the first woman I ever creampied.”

“I can imagine ‘creampie’ is quite the understatement. I hope she helped you clean up.”

“We passed out like that for at least a couple of hours. At least I did. By the time I woke up, she was gone,” I reply.

“But she did leave a note and her number. Something to the effect that she had an early shift and you would kill her if she was late.”

“She’s wiser than she looks sometimes.”

“She did come back the next day with new sheets for me,” I smile.

“That you two promptly ruined?”

“Nah, we are saving those for a special occasion. We have found that towels seem to help.”

“And the cold cycle?”

“And the cold cycle.”

“Good boy,” she says, with a smile that was simultaneously seductive and matronly.

“Well now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about why I asked you to come in.”

“You mean that wasn’t it?”

“Only partially. The other is because your condition has caused quite a bit of intrigue with my peers in the fertility field. I don’t think I have to remind you that your semen is 90% sperm and 10% other fluids. Speaking of which, I hope Candace doesn’t forget to take her pill.”

God I hope not either.

“I’m a little bit worried about where this is going,” I reply.

“Oh, no need to worry! Well, depending upon your perspective. But I just wanted to ask for your permission to publish my findings regarding your condition. I would like to get them peer reviewed and such.”

“You can, like, keep me anonymous, right?”

“Of course! You would only be identified as a 28 year old male of European decent. But…” Dr. Larrson pauses.

“But?”

“There will be a need for pictures. Color pictures.”

“Oh,” I suddenly freeze.

“Rest assured that the pictures would only focus on your condition. They would only show the amount of you that is absolutely necessary.”

“Can…can I think about it?”

“Yes, of course!” Dr. Larrson replies, looking a bit relieved that I didn’t reject her proposal outright.

“In fact, why don’t you go home and talk it over with Candace. She’s familiar with the process, of course.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll definitely do that. Can I let you know by Friday?”

“That’s perfect, Chris. Thank you so much for coming in.”

“Oh, and do be mindful of her Nana’s blanket. The cold cycle can’t save that.”

——//

To be continued.

(Author’s note: I have no idea if the cold water thing really works. It was just something I heard on Reddit.)

“Welcome back, Chris!”

Candace follows me into the exam room and closes the door behind her. Dressed in her everyday pink scrubs, I pined a bit at how well they hid her figure.

“So,” she begins, holding out the familiar exam gown.

“So,” I reply, taking the gown from her, briefly making eye contact before looking down to the floor. Hopefully she didn’t notice how my cheeks flushed.

“How have you been?”

“Uh…fi…fine. I’ve been fine,” I stammer. “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know. Busy, busy, busy,” she politely replies with a smile, briefly looking at my chart to make the encounter a little less awkward.

“Hey, so, about the last time…”

“Don’t…don’t even worry about it,” she interrupts as if expecting my words, now more focused than ever on my chart.

“I really didn’t think…”

“No, really Chris, it’s ok,” she replies, patting my arm.

“It…it happens all the time. Well, not really all the time. I mean, that was the first time *that* happened,” she rambles. “But, it was…you know what? Really, don’t even worry about it.”

“Ok.”

“Ok. Right,” she continues, finally looking up from my chart to make eye contact. “Well I have your results from the tests we conducted the last time right here and I’m going to pass them along to Dr. Larrson. That should give you enough time to change into your gown.”

“Do you see anything serious?”

“Uh, that’s…uh. Chris, there is nothing to worry about. Really. But Dr. Larrson will want to see these results,” she replies in a tone that does anything but make me not worry.

“Really, it’s fine,” she finishes as she heads for the door.

“Oh, and uh, why don’t you turn the gown around this time. It…it’ll make this a bit easier.”

I pass the next 10 minutes scrolling my phone while doing my best to not wrinkle the exam table paper too much, trying to keep my mind off Candace’s rather ominous sounding prognosis. I mean really, how serious could it be? Could a cancer cause my condition? Oh my god, what if it is cancer?

I’m so lost in worry that I nearly jump out of my gown when I hear the knock on the door followed by Dr. Larrson’s voice. Quickly closing Reddit on my phone, I give her my undivided attention. Well, her and Candace. I wonder why she’s still here.

“Hello again, Mr. Fogerty,” Dr. Larrson begins with a smile, taking a seat on a rather fun looking rolling stool. Today she is dressed in a lavender button up over a slightly below knee length pencil skirt. Like the last time, her buttons are straining, and I would swear I can peak a white bra underneath that must be doing most of the heavy lifting. Her stocking feet make me wonder if her hose goes all the way up or stops at her thighs. Just the thought makes me shift in my seat.

“And how are we doing?”

“Like, today, or in general?”

“In general.”

“Oh, fine, I guess. No real changes in my, uh, condition since the last time.”

“That’s good to hear,” she replies, jotting a couple of notes down on my chart. “So no new discomfort or pain?”

“Aside from the headaches that work gives me, no,” I try to joke.

“What do you do?”

“Middle school teacher.”

“I completely understand the headaches,” she chuckles. Seeing Candace crack a smile as well helped to lighten my mood.

“And, uh, any sexual encounters since the last time?” Dr. Larrson continues.

“You mean, since the ballerina?” I clarify.

“Yes?” she hesitates, sensing something more behind my question.

“Uh, no. I…I haven’t had any sexual encounters *like that* since her. It, uh, kind of traumatized me.”

“Understandable,” she responds, continuing with her notes. “So no sexual encounters. But what about ‘releases,’ involuntary or otherwise?”

“Releases?”

“Did you have any wet dreams or jerk off since then?” Candace suddenly blurts, noticeably invested in my answers.

“Thank you, Candace,” Dr. Larrson sighs with a hint of irritancy. “Professionally we usually ask if you have masturbated or had any nocturnal emissions since then.”

“And it is completely normal if you have,” she adds, reflexively reaching out to me as reassurance. “Healthy, even.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I have,” I sheepishly answer.

“Nocturnal emission or masturbate?”

“Thankfully no nocturnal emissions. Just, uh, masturbating.”

“How many times?”

“You need to know how many times?” I counter, starting to question Dr. Larrson’s motives for the first time.

“Mr. Fogerty. Chris,” she says on the defensive. “Rest assured that this is all crucial information that I need to make a proper diagnosis. There is no judgement here. It is a judgement free zone!”

“Ok. Uh, I guess…” I pause and look to the ceiling, fingers acting as my score keeper.

“13, 14, 15…what is today? Wednesday? Uh, 16, 17…18. 18,” I finally finish.

“18?! But you were only here a week ago! That’s almost 3 times a day!”

“I thought you said this was a judgement-free zone!”

“Yes! I’m sorry! I’m sorry how that came out,” Dr. Larrson says, leaning back on the stool. “18. You’ve masturbated 18 times since last Wednesday.”

“Give or take.”

Dr. Larrson opens her mouth to reply, but thinks better of it, instead going back to her notes.

“I mean, I kind of have to jerk…I mean, masturbate that many times,” I explain. “Otherwise I’ll have wet dreams. By the way, shouldn’t I have outgrown those?”

“That’s actually a bit of a myth,” Dr. Larrson replies. “Sexually healthy men may have nocturnal emissions their entire lives, depending upon hormone levels.”

“And, well, looking at your bloodwork, I can confidently say that you indeed would probably be dealing with nocturnal emissions on a regular, almost nightly basis if you didn’t masturbate.”

“Yeah, I tried that No Nut November thing a couple of years back. I made it like, two nights before the damn broke. It was a mess. I needed to wash my sheets twice.”

“Cold water cycle?”

“That was before you told me about the cold water trick.”

“Ouch.”

“I ended up throwing them out.”

“I hope they weren’t sentimental or anything.”

“They were from my Nana.”

“Oh…” Dr. Larrson softly says, not really expecting my response.

“I’m just messing with you. They were like, $30 or something from Target,” I break to a look of relief from Dr. Larrson.

“My Nana knitted me the blanket I still use,” blurts Candace.

“Well, you’d better keep it away from Chris, then.”

Candace and I give a knowing, unnecessarily guilty look at each other, cheeks slightly blushing, as Dr. Larrson focuses back on her notes. I am 97.3% sure that she was just joking with us.

“So back to masturbating. I’m sorry, that came out wrong,” Dr. Larrson pauses, closing her eyes for a moment to get back on track. “When you masturbated, would you say your ejaculatory volume was about the same as your, uh, the sample you left here?”

“I don’t know. I guess?”

“Each time?”

“Yes?”

“Each time?! Don’t you get dehydrated?”

“I force myself to drink a lot of water.”

“I see. And if you don’t drink a lot of water, does you volume go down?” Dr. Larrson asks, thinking she may have come to a simple solution to my predicament.

“I wish it were that easy,” I answer. “I tried drinking less water once. I ended up nearly passing out by the end of the day after I came…ejaculated.”

“I see,” she replies, adding more notes to my chart. If she was disappointed that her theory was wrong, she didn’t dwell on it.

“So back to this week. You were saying your cumsho…I mean, your ejaculatory volumes pretty consistent with the sample you provided.”

Candace stifles her chuckle with a fake cough at Dr. Larrson’s slip up. A part of me wishes she would let her hair down a little bit and not try to be so professional all the time. I bet she would look fantastic with her hair down.

“Uh, yeah. My, uh, ejaculations were pretty consistent. And, I guess they were about the same volume. I didn’t exactly measure…”

“I have to ask,” Dr. Larrson interrupts before I could finish. “Exactly where do you ejaculate when you masturbate?”

“Where?”

“I mean, according to Candace’s notes, you ejaculated an incredible volume of semen. Which, considering, the normal range is 5 *milliliters*…”

“I guess what I’m asking is,” she pauses, as if to gather herself. “Where is it all going?”

“And this is necessary for my diagnosis, how?”

“It…it’s not, actually,” she admits. “I’m sorry. I’m just curious. I mean, my husband can back up the drain when he jerks it in the shower too much. I can only imagine that releasing in the shower is a no go for you.”

“Let’s just say that I should be part owner of the Magnum condom company by now.”

“I see. I mean, that makes sense. That would effectively prevent a mess, which I could imagine would be pretty tedious to clean if you are wanking…I mean masturbating 3 times a day.”

“Yeah, it works pretty well.”

“And then what?”

“And then what, what?”

“I mean, what do you do with it? Throw it away? Down the sink?”

“I collect it in 1-gallon water bottles,” I reply with a serious look on my face. “When they are full I leave it outside of my apartment door for pick up.”

“Yes I throw it away!” I finally add after taking in the looks of absolute horror and disgust that had formed on their faces.

“I used to just throw it in the kitchen trash then send it down the trash chute. But then we got a letter from management complaining about too much liquid ending up in the dumpster. I guess a couple of the condoms may have broken on the way down. So now I send it down the toilet. I haven’t clogged it yet, knock on wood, but I usually do it in two batches just in case.”

“You did ask,” Candace quips, looking at Dr. Larrson’s stunned demeanor.

“That I did,” she replies, clearly regretting her line of questioning.

“Ok, moving on. Anyway,” Dr. Larrson continues, regrouping her professionalism.

“So Chris, the reason why Candace is still here is because there are some anomalies with the data collection, particularly your ejaculatory volume,” Dr. Larrson begins, looking at me over her designer reading glasses. I see Candace, standing behind Dr. Larrson, squirm and give me a look.

“Don’t worry, no one is in trouble,” she continues, words that usually means someone will get in trouble later. “I just want to understand what happened during the work up and, uh, sample collection. Just in case there is something that skews my diagnosis.”

“So tell me. From the beginning. What happened?”

——

“Mr. Fogerty?”

Candace gave a quick courtesy knock on the about 5 minutes after I had finished my story and Dr. Larrson left.

“So Doctor wants to have a few quick tests done,” she began, taking a look at what I presumed was my chart on the clipboard.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too invasive,” she finished, giving me a smirk.

“First, let’s get your height and weight…”

Candace proceeded to work me up as I would expect from a normal trip to my physician. I stood as tall as I could when she took my height, and was a bit disappointed when she didn’t round up (“5-10 and 3/4’s” she called out). Likewise, I tried to make myself as light as possible by thinking thin when I stood on the scale.

“175” she added after checking the scale, making me regret that double bacon burger I had for lunch.

——

“Double bacon cheeseburger?” Dr. Larrson interrupts. “Just so you know, 175 puts you right at the upper end of a healthy BMI.

“Even if Candace wrote 5’11?”

“I was being generous,” Candace chimes in.

“Yes, even at 5’11”. It’s not serious right now, but as your doctor, I’m obligated to…”

“Let me know that I’m getting fat. Got it.”

“You carry it well, though,” Candace adds.

“Thanks,” I reply, giving her a small smile that she returns.

“I’m just saying that it’s something to keep an eye on. Those double cheeseburgers are going to start catching up to you,” Dr. Larrson continues, not noticing the quick smiles Candace and I shared.

“And besides, *I* never agreed with those charts,” Candace adds. “According to them, I am two inches too short.”

“They don’t account for tits,” Dr. Larrson nonchalantly slips. “But moving on. Where were we. Ah, yes. Baseline measurements.”

“Right,” I continue, trying to get back on track.

——

“Alright, we are just going to take some baseline measurements. Can you please stand straight and lift your gown for me,” Candace requested.

“Baseline measurements? Of…of what?” I replied, frozen on the spot, my cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Yes. Of your genitals. Doctor’s orders,” she clarified, and flipped my chart around to show me the honest to goodness fields that appeared on the form.

“Flaccid length? Flaccid girth? Baseline testicular volume? You can’t be serious.”

“Chris, I can assure you that we are, and that it is all very routine,” she countered, donning a pair of nitrile gloves, pulling them tight with a snap for good measure.

“And you guys have like, some sort of imagining machine that does all of that, right?” I asked, so hopeful that I had to laugh.

——

“We considered it,” adds Dr. Larrson, breaking the narrative. “Technology is amazing these days and Merck actually makes a good one that would have given us very accurate, 3D data non-invasively.”

“But?” I press.

“Well, when we asked our patients about it, the overwhelming response was that they would rather not have a digital 3D model of their flaccid junk…I mean, their genitals, on some cloud server somewhere,” she replies.

“Though there are some patients who would be proud to have a 3D model of their aroused genitals,” Candace blurts.

“Indeed,” Dr. Larrson sighs, no doubt images of some pretty impressive members flashing in her mind. “But anyway, that is why we continue to do it old school style. Which is what Candace proceeded to do next, I’m assuming.”

——

“Now lift your gown for me, please,” she requested again in a very professional tone.

“But…but…well,” I stammered. “It’s just that…well…it’s a little cold in here.”

“That’s on purpose. It helps get a true baseline.”

“Chris, rest assured that we keep everything professional here, and completely confidential, of course. You know, with HIPAA and all,” Candace continued, trying to unsuccessfully reassure me.

“And besides, a penis is a penis. A scrotum, a scrotum. Some are small,” she said, holding up my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “And then some not so small.”

“What’s not so small?”

——

“20, 25 centimeters?” Dr. Larrson answers, looking at Candace.

“Mr. Wilson was 30,” Candace reminds.

“Ah, how can I forget Mr. Wilson?” Dr. Larrson confirms, rather blissfully.

“What is that in Freedom units?” I ask with a raised eye brow.

“12 inches, give or take.”

“12…12 inches?! Soft?! That was his baseline?!”

“He was definitely a ‘Show-er,’” Dr. Larrson continues. “He was actually in here considering a penis reduction.”

“That’s a thing?!”

“Like I told you the last time, Chris,” Dr. Larrson says. “Size isn’t everything. He was actually having trouble finding women he could pleasure without hurting.”

“Amateurs,” Candace loudly whispers under her breath, drawing a smirk from Dr. Larrson.

“Did he go through with it?”

“We convinced him that it wasn’t in his best interest,” Dr. Larrson divulges. “There were several potential risks, ranging from loss of sensation to full blown impotence that he wasn’t willing to accept.”

“I see,” I consider, agreeing with him.

“Wait,” I add, with a sudden realization. “This wasn’t the one that left you walking funny for a week, was it?”

“Mr. Fogerty! I am a married woman!” Dr. Larrson states, holding up her left hand to show me her huge diamond wedding ring.

“That…that other one was before I was married,” she adds defensively. “And besides, that would be a serious breach of doctor-patient conduct!”

I gulp as I look at Candace. For her part, she silently mouthed “it was him” while Dr. Larrson was still staring at me.

“But enough about Mr. Wilson. We are talking about you,” Dr. Larrson continues.

“And there’s that whole HIPA thing, right? I mean, we aren’t even supposed to talk about other patients.”

“Yes! You are absolutely correct. I we don’t talk about our smaller…patients. Patients in general. We never talk about our patients, right Candace?” Dr. Larrson continues, to which Candace replies with a vigorous nod.

“Like me?”

“Please just continue, Chris…”

——

“Just lift your gown,” Candace finally demanded.

“Fine,” I sighed. With a deep breath, I lifted my gown, looked straight ahead and cringed, bracing for a stifled chuckle. When I heard nothing, I looked down to investigate the lack of a response.

Candace was kneeling with my cock at eye level, scribbling some notes on my chart with a very professional look on her face. The shock of cold air had badly tightened everything up down there. My cut cock would surely have been hiding in the weeds if I hadn’t trimmed the night before. The star of the show had retracted close to by body for warmth.

“Right, just relax,” Candace began as she put her pen down and grabbed the measuring tape. With no further warning, she placed the end against my body on the top of my shaft and extended it along my length. She didn’t even bother to warm it up.

“4…” she called out, and I suddenly felt better about myself. Not bad for it being cold.

“Inches?”

“Centimeters,” she replied, all but rolling her eyes and leaving my pride in tatters.

“I’m…I’m a grower!” I pleaded, but I might as well have been talking to a potted plant. Instead, Candace quickly wrapped the tape around my shaft.

“9 centimeters,” she scientifically said, sure this time to mention the units of measure.

“Alright, all done with that. See, nothing to worry about.”

“What about it the testicular volume?”

“Oh, we don’t have to do that one right now.”

“Why not?” I regretted pressing the issue the moment the words left my mouth.

“Well, they need to be deviated from your body in order for us to get a measurement.”

“Deviated?”

“Hanging off your body,” she clarified.

“It looks like they’re trying to stay warm at the moment,” she finished, with a quick glance down at my junk.

——

“I guess that explains the ‘less than’ value for your testicular baseline volume,” Dr. Larrson says, bouncing my account against Candace’s notes. “Don’t worry, it happens more often than not. You aren’t the first, and definitely won’t be the last.”

“And that is actually a good thing,” she continues. “A symptom of testicular cancer is swelling of the testicles. The fact that your baseline shows no swelling suggests we can rule out cancer.”

“Oh, I guess that is a good thing,” I reply, somewhat relieved.

——

“But like I said, it’s just data for a baseline,” she continued, moving on. “Now, here’s where things might feel a little bit awkward.”

“You mean all of that just now wasn’t awkward?”

“Well it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I’m not sure Candace picked up on the sarcasm in my voice as she continued.

“Next, we are going to repeat the measurements, but with you fully aroused,” she professionally started.

“Here in the corner behind this curtain,” she continued, pulling back a portable medical sash to reveal a small adjustable height table, a stack of magazines, and a rather uncomfortable looking hard plastic chair, “you’ll find a selection of pornographic magazines to help you along. You can always use your phone as well. The WiFi password is on the table.”

“When you feel that you are fully aroused, push the call button here, and I’ll be in to take the measurements.”

“I still don’t see how this is going to help my condition.”

“I know it seems unorthodox,” Candace defended, “but Dr. Larrson really is the best at what she does. Just trust her process.” Candace patted me on my arm and gave me a warm smile.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. And remember, just arousal. Do not ejaculate. We are going to need to collect that later.”

“Collect?…” I asked, but Candace had already closed the door behind her.

Left alone, I started perusing the dated selection of “reading” material that was offered that consisted of well worn Playboy, Penthouse, Score and even some Playgirl magazines.

——

“Yeah, we’ve been meaning to update our selection,” Dr. Larrson apologizes. “But we figured that everyone usually just uses their phone and watches the pornography of their choice.”

“The Playgirl was on top when I got back,” Candace unhelpfully teases.

“It was the last one I came across!” I protest. “It was on the bottom!”

“At least you didn’t literally cum across it,” Candace quips with an evil grin.

“Thank you, Candace,” Dr. Larrson sighs. “And even if you did, Chris, we of course welcome all sexual orientations. That’s why it’s there, after all.”

“I’m not gay!”

“Right. Please. Carry on with your account,” Dr. Larrson replies, skeptically writing something on my chart.

——

Not finding anything to tickle my fancy, I grabbed my phone and logged into the WiFi.

——

“Thank you for the password, by the way,” I offer. “I was running low on data.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dr. Larrson replies.

“Of course our IT *can’t* see everything that our patients stream,” Candace jokes.

“Not that it matters, Candace!” Dr. Larrson exasperatedly replies.

“The things IT Nate has seen…” Candace says, twinkle in her eye.

“Oh god,” I reply, thinking about the genres I has scrolled through before settling on something. “Anyway…”

——

I finally decided on an oldie but goodie, the one with Nurse Gianna and Nurse Angela tending to a very lucky “patient.” It seemed fitting considering my surroundings.

——

“Oooh! That *is* a good one!” says Candace, drawing an annoyed sigh from Dr. Larrson.

——

I settled in, choosing to stand instead of sitting on the chair, as the thought of sharing a seat that has had an innumerable number of bare genitals pressed against it didn’t appeal to me.

——

“We disinfect it after every patient!” pleads Candace.

“I’m sure. But still…”

——

By the time Nurse Gianna wrapped her plump red lips around her patient’s impressive, thick rod, my junk had started to warm up and return to a more respectable size. I slowly started to jerk myself in rhythm with her bobs, my mind reminding myself that I had been given carte blanche to get myself off in the a doctor’s office.

Nurse Angela’s moans were really doing it for me as well, and I started to imagine that it was my cock that was being serviced by those two pairs of plump lips running along my shaft. Nurse Gianna then moved back to the patient’s tip that was glistening with pre-cum while Angela went to the base and balls, sexily moaning the entire time.

I bit my lip as Gianna got him halfway down, pausing to let Angela get out of the way before going full bore and deep throating the man, her nose burying itself in his trimmed pubes. She held it there for a minute before coming back up for air, then did it again. This time Angela held her down and kept it there until the tears formed and her cheeks turned red from a lack of oxygen.

“You bitch!” Gianna played once Angela freed her, turning toward her with a long string of grool and giving her a deep kiss, one hand each on their patient’s sloppy shaft.

Angela then took a turn, gobbling the patient in one go, gratuitous glucking noises included. Meanwhile, Gianna took the opportunity to open her tiny nurse top, revealing more of her massive cleavage that she stuffed into a lacy white bra that was clearly a size too small. With a small assist to help physics run its course, she popped each tit out of their cup in turn, finally displaying them in all of their glory. Perky nipples set in nice areola, her full breasts had a bit of a sag that is a hallmark of being all natural.

In a well choreographed move, she pushed Angela aside and went to work on the slobbered member, giving Angela a chance to give her tits some air. Both now topless, they took a moment to share another deep kiss, their huge assets pressed tightly together in a perfectly composed shot.

——

“I always appreciate good camera work in these things,” I break.

“If they are who I think they are, they really do have some fantastic tits,” Dr. Larrson remarks.

“Eh, they’re alright,” Candace counters.

“Don’t be a hater,” Dr. Larrson replies with a smirk. “Anyway, Chris, please continue. How…were you…what was going on with your state of arousal?”

“Oh, right,” I say, suddenly remembering this was also about me.

——

By this time the real star of the show was well on his way. All but hard, I steadily jerked myself to the hedonism streaming on my phone. My sack had been engorging itself from the beginning when Nurse Gianna had bent over to playfully press her stethoscope to her patient’s cock, giving me a fantastic view down her top, so by this time, I had to spread my legs a bit to give them some room, as they were nearly the size of tennis balls and banging on my thighs.

Things downstairs went into overdrive when Angela dropped her tiny thong and climbed on her patient. Grabbing his cock, she slid in his entire, impressive length in one go like the pro she is, not stopping until her full, trimmed bush rested on his pelvis. Gianna, busily sucking on the man’s nipples, decided she wanted in on the fun. Not bothering to remove her dental floss g-string, she climbed aboard the exam table and parked herself on his face. The lucky bastard simply pulled the string to the side and went to work, drawing believably genuine sounding moans from Gianna. The camera spent a view moments centered on Gianna’s dump truck ass before panning around to the side. By now, Angela was being bounced like she was on a carnival ride, her huge tits swinging wildly in circles. Gianna leaned in to give her another deep kiss, the three lustful bodies forming a perfect triangle of debauchery.

I had almost lost myself in the whole experience. A lucky glance to the call button brought me back to the task at hand. Cock as hard as it was going to get, pre-cum already dripping from my tip, and my balls very, very swollen and full, I hit the button.

I had just enough time to close the screen on my phone between Candace’s knock on the door and her entry.

——

“You could have kept it going you know. It’s not like I haven’t seen it all,” Candace says.

“But…but that’s weird!”

“What’s weird?”

“Watching porn with other people in the room!”

“You mean you’ve never watched porn with your girlfriends?”

“What?! No! I thought girls thought porn is gross and demeaning and all of that!”

“Are you kidding?” Candace incredulously replies. “You should try it sometime. You really don’t know what you’re missing. Some of the best sex I’ve ever had was with porn going in the background…”

“Really?…” Dr. Larrson interjects, suddenly interested in Candace’s pro tips.

“Oh my god. You people live under rocks,” Candace sighs.

“Good to know,” I chuckle. “I’ll have to try it out next time,” I say, giving Candace a knowing look dead in her eye.

“Anyway, where was I?”

——

“So Chris, how are we…HOLY SHIT!”

Candace dropped my chart with a clatter the moment she pulled back the curtain and comprehended what she was seeing. I gave her a sheepish grin, standing bow legged with my rock hard cock still in my hand, my sack swollen nearly to capacity.

“Are…are you ok?!” she asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah…yeah, don’t worry. This is normal.”

“Chris, this is definitely NOT normal.”

“I meant, normal for me.”

“Does…does it hurt?” she asked, kneeling down to pick up the chart and get a better look.

“Not really. Just kind of like a “blue balls” kind of way.”

“Jesus, these are fucking amazing!” Candace continued, deciding that this was an appropriate time to throw her professionalism to the side.

“Now that is ‘deviation’!” she chuckled before standing up and heading to the counter for a fresh pair of nitrile gloves. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be right there to take some measurements.”

“Oh…okay,” I awkwardly obeyed, my hand continuing to slowly jerk my fully aroused shaft. With only my spank bank to rely on, it helped when Candace bent over to grab several items from a bottom cabinet, giving me a great view of the outline of her thong through her scrubs.

——

“I knew you were looking you little pervert!”
Candace screeches in a tone that did not quite seem 100% angry.

“Who bends over a counter like that!” I retort. If I had been standing I would have mimicked her bend that excessively showed off her backside.

“She does that a lot,” Dr. Larrson sighs, trying to keep the peace. “She knows what she’s doing. Please, continue.”

——

The moment Candace turned back around I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the ceiling, hoping she wouldn’t notice me staring.

——

“I did, asshole!”

“Candace! My apologies, Chris.”

——

“Alright big boy, you can let go now,” Candace said as she knelt down, measuring tape in hand.

“145 cm,” she called out, running the tape along the top of my fully erect cock, following its gentle curve.

“And 115 centimeters around. Not bad.”

“I thought size didn’t matter!”

“Right,” Candace said, giving me a quick smirk before returning her attention to my engorged sack.

“Wait, did they get bigger?”

“Probably? You were basically jerking my cock.”

“When do they stop growing?”

“When I…uh…finally release.”

“Jesus Christ. I now see why you are in here. May I?”

“Uhh…sure.”

Candace tentatively brought her fingers to my sack as if not knowing what to expect. A gentle brush, then a cupping of her hand.

“And this doesn’t hurt?”

“No,” I sighed, a little ashamed for enjoying her touch.

“They’re a pair of goddamn softballs!” she continued, her touch getting bolder once she was convinced that I wasn’t in pain. She even gave each nut a gentle squeeze.

“And they really are getting bigger!” she laughed. “I guess you’re enjoying this?”

“You could say that,” I almost moaned in pleasure.

“Well, the idea is that we need your measurements when you are *fully* aroused,” she continued, her hand still fondling my balls.

“I think I’m almost there…”

“Are you now?” Candace said, rather seductively.

——

“Candace, I swear to god, if this is going where I think it’s going,” Dr. Larrson angrily interrupts.

“No, it wasn’t…” I stammer, knowing there is no easy way out of admitting that it definitely is going where Dr. Larrson thinks it’s going. “She…she was just making sure we got accurate measurements. And, uh, multitasking a little bit.”

“Multitasking?” Dr. Larrson incredulously asks, looking first at me, then to a vigorously nodding Candace, and finally back to me.

“I mean, you guys did need a sample from me right? She was just helping me along!”

I’m sure that the explanation sounded way better in my head than out loud.

“Come on Laura, it’s not like I jerked him off or anything,” Candace says, formality of the proceedings really going out the window. “I just helped him along.”

“Just…just continue,” Dr. Larrson resigns, squeezing the bridge of her nose with a sigh.

——

Candace knelt back down, grabbing a large graduated beaker that was half filled with some sort of gel like substance before getting settled in front of my junk.

“So this is typically how we would measure testicular volume,” she began, showing me the beaker as she explained. “We do it by displacement. Usually we would dip the scrotum in here and measurement the change in liquid levels. That’s why we need them deviated from the body. But for you…”

She paused and held the beaker directly below my sack. At best, it would have been an extremely tight fit. And of course they were still swelling.

——

“And that would explain the ‘greater than 1000 cc’ value here,” Dr. Larrson reasons, eyebrow raised at the chart.

“I didn’t want to chance it,” Candace adds. “It looked like it would get stuck.”

——

“So let’s just measure the circumference,” she concluded, adapting to the novel situation.

“Christ,” she whispered once she got her tape wrapped around me and looked at the final value. “60 centimeters.”

“It was in the Guinness Book of World Records,” I began.

“But then the librarian told you to take it out. I’ve heard that one before,” Candace finished, rolling her eyes. “Though seriously, I think these may legitimately qualify for that. It’s paper worthy, at the very least.”

“You guys are not going to write a research paper on me!” I protested.

“Shhh, just keep jerking,” she said, changing the subject. “I swear they are getting bigger before my very eyes.”

“Fine,” I sighed, slowly getting past the ridiculousness of the situation.

Candace knelt there for another minute, seemingly in fascination, before wrapping the tape measure around me again.

“62.5,” she said, “still growing.”

“So, uh, the next step, of course, would be to, uh, collect a sample,” she continued. “A sperm sample.”

I looked to the small stand and spied a standard specimen cup, 10 milliliters in size.

“Uh, do you have anything bigger?”

“That should be plenty big enough,” Candace dismissed, still watching my swelling sack.

“Are you close?” she then asked.

“Umm, sort of?”

“So firm,” she absently commented, taking the liberty to cup my balls once again, an action that admittedly helped me along.

By now I noticed Candace’s sizable rack, the angle in which we were positioned giving me a perfect view down her top.

I think she noticed.

——

“Of course she noticed,” Dr. Larrson says before Candace got a chance to say something snarky. “We always do.”

I am suddenly keenly aware of where my eyes are focusing, desperately trying to maintain direct eye contact with Laura as she subconsciously pulls her lab coat for more coverage.

“Good to know,” I sheepishly reply.

——

“So, uh, I just shoot what I can into that?” I asked, cocking my head towards the comically small specimen jar, trying to draw attention away from the fact that I was gratuitously looking down her top.

“Yes,” Candace said, following my eyes towards the table.

“And I just hit the button when I’m done?”

“What? No!” she confusedly replied. “I’m going to be right here holding the jar for you.”

“What?!” I gasped, freezing on the spot.

“It is our policy to observe the ejaculation,” Candace continued. “You would not believe the time and money we have wasted on clowns pouring warm cream or diluting their samples with water to try to impress us.”

“Why are you men like that?” Candace offhandedly asked.

“So now I have to cum in front of you?!”

“Trust me, I don’t like it anymore than you do. But it’s doctor’s orders.”

——

“You don’t even know, Chris,” Laura defends. “Literally thousands of dollars. Not to mention the embarrassment when the lab come back laughing at us for sending them cream.”

“And for the record, this is the first time I’ve heard you complaining about the policy, Candace,” Laura grumbles.

“Bitch,” Candace loudly says under her breath.

“Whore.”

“Shall I continue?” I interrupt, my mind racing at the thought of what these two must be like behind closed doors.

——

We continued in silence for a couple more minutes, most of it spent with Candace staring at my sack.

“So, not to rush you or anything, but do you think you can speed this up?” she finally asked.

“I’m trying,” I began, “but…”

“Fine,” she said. With no prompting, she suddenly lifted her stop to reveal her very large bra covered tits. “Does this help?”

——

“I knew it,” Laura sighs.

“What?” Candace quips. “He was taking forever and we were already running behind! I was supposed to be helping Mr. Marks 15 minutes ago!”

——

“Fuuuu…” is all I could manage, my jerking going into overdrive. The tops of her breasts spilling over her lacy bra was definitely doing it for me.

——

“That’s a really nice bra, by the way,” I comment.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite.”

——

“I…you need…I’m close…” I started breathing more heavily, feeling the cliff rapidly approaching.

At those words, Candace skillfully managed to take one last measurement of my sack.

“67!” she cried, quickly jotting it down before grabbing the specimen cup and holding it out in front of me.

“No, bigger!” I gasped.

“Seriously Chris, it’s…”

In a moment of desperation, I knocked the cup out of her hand.

“What the fuck?!”

“Bigger! Hurry! I’m going to…”

Candace’s eyes grew wide when she saw I was dead serious. Her shirt still up, she bolted from her knees and made a beeline for the cabinet. Slamming the doors open she managed to find two large plastic beakers. Grabbing both, she flew back to me, sliding to a stop on her knees with one of the beakers positioned right in front of me.

“Chris, if you don’t even make it to the first mark, I’m going to…” Candace began, but didn’t have a change to finish. Her left tit was mostly hanging out because of her actions and the hint of areola was all that it took.

“Uuuuughhhhhh…” I loudly moaned, and let the contents of my sack fly.

It was like a Super Soaker water gun shooting into the beaker, the first 3 jets filling it past the first mark.

“Holy shit…” Candace gasped, skillfully holding the beaker in place to catch everything.

In 30 seconds the first beaker was filled and we moved on to the second.

“Ahhhh…ahhhh…ahhh…” I kept on gasping, each pump rapidly filling the fresh beaker.

——

“Ok, waitwaitwait,” Laura suddenly stops me. “This is where I get confused.”

“You said Candace only grabbed two beakers. Each of those only hold 1000 milliliters. 1 liter. Only those 2 liters were sent to the lab. And yet Candace, you reported a volume of 2.5 liters. What happened to…” Laura halts in her tracks with a horrid realization.

“YOU DIDN’T!”

“Let me explain!” I cry, trying to diffuse the situation.

——

Candace just knelt there in morbid fascination, motionless until I hit the 750 milliliter mark on the second beaker.

“Are…are you almost done? You’re almost done right? Because…” Candace looked up at me and then panicked, realizing I was completely lost in my orgasm with no signs of slowing down.

“Chris! Wait! We are almost out of…shitshitshit…” Candace cried as each shot brought me closer to the brim.

“Ah…FUCK IT!” she finally concluded, deciding she had no choice.

I was so lost in my ejaculation that I barely registered her lips taking me in and her mouth engulfing me completely. Candace just knelt there, both hands outstretched holding the very full specimen beakers, my cock shooting jet after jet straight down her throat.

It was another 30 seconds of ropes and throbs before my orgasm subsided and I realized what happened.

“Oh…oh….oh fuck!” I gasp in shock, looking down at Candace as she pulled away from my softening cock, somehow managing to not spill a drop.

——

“Candace…” Dr. Larrson quietly begins once she discovers that her worst nightmare had become a reality. “Why didn’t you just let him cum on the floor?”

“Like I said, we were running behind and we needed his room!” Candace exasperatedly explains as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I wasn’t going to have time to clean up that mess!”

“Well, I’ll have you know his STD screen came back clean, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Laura sighs at a loss.

“And while I don’t really want to know, I have to ask. How confident are you on that 500 milliliter value that didn’t make it into the beakers?”

“Oh, very confident,” Candace proudly says. “It was almost exactly like chugging a pint of beer.”

“My god,” is all Laura can manage.

“At least he tasted good. You eat a lot of fruits, don’t you Chris?”

“I do actually. Mandarins are my favorite. Helps to keep me regular, if you know what I mean.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dr. Larrson moans, clearly regretting some of her life choices.

——

To be continued…

I was on the verge of chills as I sat awkwardly on the exam table, the paper covering crinkling under my shifting weight. I did think it was a little odd that the nurse has instructed me to strip completely and put on an exam gown (“Opening to the back,” she reminded me with a wink). At least the gown was warm when she gave it to me. Now, not so much.

“I guess the gowns are standard here,” I think to myself, checking my watch again for the 5th in the past 10 minutes, if only to give me something to do as I left my phone in my pants that were draped over a chair, just out of reach. Honestly, I didn’t know much about Dr. Larrson or his office.

“You’re going to need to see a specialist,” Dr. Lee, my primary care physician, said told me in a surprisingly professional tone. That was reassuring. Perhaps I wasn’t such a freak after all.

*Knocknock*

“Mr. Fogerty?” came a female voice moments before the door opened to a very attractive blonde woman, dressed professionally with an expensive pair of black slacks and a blue button up top under a typical doctor’s lab coat. The fact that the buttons of her shirt seemed to be holding on for dear life didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m Dr. Larrson.”

“Oh, uh, hi. I’m Chris…you…you can call me Chris.” The realization that Dr. Larrson was, in fact, a very attractive woman, brought a fresh flush to my face.

“You were expected a man, weren’t you?” she begins with a smirk before focusing on my file on her clipboard. “Don’t worry. I get that a lot.”

“So. Chris. What brings you in today?”

I always hate it when doctors ask that question. I mean, I already wrote it all out on the form that she is currently perusing. Is she testing me? Or do doctors just get off on their patients’ embarrassment?

“Well, uh. I…I have this problem. Uh, sexual problem.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” she acknowledges, now giving me her full attention and making it even more difficult to explain.

—

All over each other, we were making the poor Pakistani Uber driver uncomfortable, his focus split between the moans coming from his back seat and the wet city roads in front of him. The date went spectacularly, with even the rainy night adding a sparkle to the lights of the city through the panoramic windows of the roof top bar. Our attraction was immediate, our two drinks apiece a mere formality before a mutual decision was made that something much stronger than alcohol was needed.

My shirt was half open by the time we reached her apartment door and off before we even made it out of her kitchen. We shared a chuckle when she kicked off her heels, forcing an admission that she was, in fact, 2 inches shorter than me and that I wasn’t lying about my height. Then I discovered that the delicate chain hanging from the back zipper of her little black dress was actually functional.

“Holy fuck.”

“Thanks, it’s not cheap,” she smirked, stepping out of her dress in a full black lingerie and posing to give the ensemble a moment to shine under my lustful gaze before returning her lips to mine. My finger tips delicately danced down her back to her waist before they were commandeered at the wrist, her hand forcing them to her perfectly toned ass. Obliging, I have her cheek a firm grab, pulling her religiously fit body against mine.

She gasps when I break our kiss, my lips seeking out that spot behind her ear and her neck. She smells of exotic lust; amber and and vanilla with floral notes. Delicate, yet undeniably how the words “Fuck Me!” would smell, it triggers memories of my first kiss.

I make it as far as her collar bone before she pulls back with a mischievous grin, and I settle for a glorious glimpse of her micro mesh covered breasts, her B-cups easily more than a handful. Taking charge, she plants kisses on my toned, hairless chest, simultaneously dragging her manicured nails across my well-defined abs, bringing her finger tips to rest on my waist band and belt.

Eyes locked on mine, she skillfully undoes my belt and the button on pants before seductively opening my zipper. That is when I brace myself for what I know is coming, resting my weight on my hands that sit on the edge of her surprisingly sturdy dining table. She raises an eye brow at my anxious look, then glances down at my crotch.

“Oh my…” she says through a scandalous grin. To her credit, if the enormous bulge intimidated, she didn’t show it. “Someone is a big boy, isn’t he?”

She lustfully moans as she kisses me through my gray boxer briefs, my pants still around my hips. She parts her lips and takes toothless nibbles, teasing me through the thin cotton while the pre-cum from my rock hard erection forms a growing dark spot just below by band. Thirsting for a taste, she darts her tongue to the stain. I moan in pleasure when I feel her against the cleft in my cut tip, her expertise applying just the right amount of pressure to make my toes curl.

Then she brings her hand to my sack.

“Wha…what the fuck?”

Here we go.

She bolts back in disbelief, her hand reacting to the unexpected.

“Wait what? Like, seriously?” She brings her hand back to my junk with an air of morbid fascination, cautiously squeezing me through my boxers.

“Yeah, about that…”

“That. There’s. No way. There…” she stammers to my junk, now grabbing harder in an attempt to convince herself of what she was feeling.

“I *have* to see this!” she finally spits out while simultaneously reaching for my waist band and yanking down my boxer briefs.

Catching my tip on the band, it springs back and slaps against me when it is freed from its confines, splattering a few drops of pre-cum in the process. She couldn’t have cared less.

“Holy shit.”

“They…they’re not always like that,” I begin to explain. “They…they grow when I get turned on. Kinda like a dick.”

I’m not even sure if she heard me.

“You’re fucking with me, right?” She was talking more to my junk now that to me, her eyes wide and her hand nervously reaching for my sack. I twitch when her hand touches my bare scrotum, skin smooth and incredibly taught.

“Does…does it hurt?” she asks, finally making eye contact with me.

“Surprisingly, no. I mean, it looks like it should be painful. But…but it feels good when they swell. And when you touch them like that.”

“Does it now?” she laughs, the seduction in her voice returning. “How about when I do this?” she asks before opening her lips as wide as they can go and attempting to wrap them around one of my balls.

“Oh fuuuuck,” is all I manage.

“Gah!” she gasped, letting me go to take a breath. “It’s like a I’m trying to stuff a tennis ball in my mouth! Fuzzy like one too!” she laughs.

“Or a kiwi.”

“I eat kiwis all the time. These are way fucking bigger than a kiwi.”

—

“Waitwaitwait.”

Dr. Larrson leaned back in her chair with same incredulous look that they all give me.

“Bigger than a Kiwi? Mr. Fogerty…Chris. The largest healthy testicles ever recorded is like half the size of a tennis ball. I mean…” Dr. Larrson turned and whipped open a drawer, magically pulling out an actual tennis ball. “Don’t ask why I have this in here. You’re saying your testicles swell to this size?”

“Why…I mean…well, yeah. Like two tennis balls?”

“Two…tw…What?! Like, the biggest *pair* of testicles was half the size of ONE tennis ball!”

“Sometimes bigger? I mean, I once…well…” I trailed off.

“You measured it, didn’t you?”

“Maybe? One of them made me! She was like, a really good tennis player. She was like, this close to trying to bounce them on her racquet.”

Dr. Larrson held up a finger to silence me and turned her head, taking a moment to regain her professionalism.

“Ok, I’m sorry,” she said, her face a bit flush from stifling her laughter. “Please, continue with your story. Wait. This…this isn’t the tennis player, is it?”

“No, this one was a ballerina.”

“I bet that was fun.”

“It was.”

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. Please, continue. It…it’ll help me get all of the facts so I can make a diagnosis. Don’t leave anything out.”

“Ok…” I reply skeptically, trying hard not to glance at Dr. Larrson’s long legs as she shifted herself in her seat. “So yeah, where were we?”

“She tried to fit one of your nuts…I mean testicles…in her mouth…and…kiwis. She likes kiwis.”

“That’s right…”

—

“The skin tastes better too,” the ballerina laughed, reasserting her dominance by gently running her teeth over my right nut.

“Ah…” I gasp, reflexively flinched away.

“Oh don’t be a baby. I don’t bite. Hard.”

With a sigh she replaced her teeth with her lips and added her tongue to the mix. Her free hand moved to my shaft and jerked my length, fingers collecting a helping of pre-cum from my tip for lubrication.

—

“Let me guess. You’re hung like a moose and the biggest she’s ever seen?” Dr. Larrson skeptically interrupted again.

“What? No! I’m like, just above average, at best,” I confidently admit, never having a woman complain that I was too small. Usually, it’s not my dick that they’re focused on.

“6 inches?” Dr. Larrson smirks, holding her thumb and forefinger 3 inches apart.

“As a matter of fact, if you follow the curve, yes.”

“You measured that too, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m sorry, continue,” Dr. Larrson yields, her crossed legs subtly twitching.

—

The ballerina knew her way around cock, for sure, but understandably, she was completely captivated by my sack. They usually are. At least the ones that don’t go screaming in the other direction.

“Gaaahhhh…” she gasps again, letting go of my ball. “How do you even walk with these?”

“It’s tricky. It’s good that they’re not always this size.”

“So I didn’t turn you on in the Uber?”

“You turned me on in the bar,” I explain. “They…they just take some time to…”

“Inflate?”

“They’re not balloons!”

“Well, I’ve tossed water balloons smaller than these.”

“Oh my god.”

“What?” she flirtatiously laughed, before popping my left nut in her mouth and caressing my right with her free hand. “These are much firmer though.”

“Than…thanks,” I moan with a sigh. While her mouth on my sack did feel nice, my cock was feeling neglected. Usually it’s the dick that is the star of the show and the balls are an after thought. But when your sack could headline a circus act, it’s only natural for it to get all of the attention.

As a hint, I give my cock a good twitch. Thankfully she noticed and moved her hand from my balls to my shaft.

“Awww, is someone feeling unloved?” she purrs, letting go of my left nut with a pop. Starting at the base, she gives me a slow, sensual lick, before pursing her lips at my cleft and giving it a delicate kiss. Eyes once again locked on mine, she slowly takes me in, drawing a moan of satisfaction from my throat.

She gets half of me down, her tongue stroking the underside of my shaft and my tip running along the roof of her mouth, before she pulls back, giving my tip a hard suck before it evacuates.

“Mmmm, that tastes good too,” she quips, a flick of her tongue collecting a drop of pre-cum that oozed from my tip, before gobbling me back down. She starts to bob on my cock in earnest, but my obscene sack is hardly being forgotten, a free hand doing its best to fondle both simultaneously.

More and more of my cock disappears into her mouth until she focuses her complete attention on it, letting go of my balls and clamping her hands on my hairless ass. A final effort and I feel the tip of my cock bump the back of her throat and her nose push into my neatly kept tuft of light brown pubes.

*Gluckgluckahhhhh*

“That’s the first time I’ve been able to do that,” she seductively smirked, giving my saliva covered shaft a couple of good jerks.

—

“Lucky girl.”

“What?”

“Lucky girl,” Dr. Larrson repeats without thinking. “If you were the first guy she’s been able to deep throat, then that means all the others…you know what, never mind. Please continue.”

“All the others?” I pause, slowly solving the equation in my head. “All the others…hey! Wait a minute!”

“Really, it doesn’t matter,” Dr. Larrson begins to reason.

“But you just said she was lucky!”

“I…well…I mean…seriously. Size doesn’t matter!” she reassures unconvincingly. “Look, men don’t realize that being really big gets uncomfortable…”

“How big is too big?”

“Like the size of my forearm,” she blurts before her face turns to instant regret.

“The size of your forearm?! Wha..how?”

“It was a struggle. I wasn’t walking right for a week,” she admits. “But enough about me. I apologize again. Please continue.”

“And without embellishment. Accurate picture, otherwise it’ll throw off my diagnosis,” she adds, reading my mind.

“Fine,” I resign. “Where was I…”

—

She deep throats me a couple more times, gagging with each bump against the back of her throat like a kid showing off a new found talent. I appreciated the effort, all of me finally getting some attention. It’s not long before I’m fully aroused, the skin of my scrotum stretched to the limit.

—

“I’m sorry to interrupt again,” Dr. Larrson breaks, seemingly now completely invested in my predicament. “But that sounds painful. Does it hurt when you are…umm…’completely aroused’?”

“They get really tender. It’s pretty much the worst blue balls ever.”

“I could imagine. Sorry, carry on,” she says, scribbling down some notes.

—

The ballerina was thoroughly enjoying herself, my preternatural junk almost completely coated in spit and lipstick marks.

“Gahhh,” she exhaled after holding me down her throat longer than ever. “Maybe we should take it to the bedroom before I have to wheel you over there,” she laughs, gently caressing my swollen sack that is hanging half way down my thigh before yanking my pants and boxer briefs the rest of the way down to free my legs.

She gets to her feet then grabs me by my cock, pulling me to her bedroom. I have no choice but to waddle along behind, bow legged to keep my thighs from smacking my balls too hard. Still showing dominance, she pushes me to her bed and eagerly climbs on top.

Still unsure of my limits, she thankfully rest most of her weight on her knees as she straddles me and tentatively rubs her lace covered crotch against my junk.

“Fuck, those are enormous,” she moans with a grin before leaning forward to kiss me on the lips. She tries to grind herself against my shaft, competing for real estate with my balls. I spread my legs a bit to give them more room to fall, but she does me one better and goes into the splits.

—

“She must have been fun.”

“She could go past 180.”

“Show off.”

—

Captivated with her acrobatics, I didn’t even notice how she rifled through her night stand for a condom.

“You have a preference?” she asks, sitting up and holding out my choices like a poker hand.

“And ‘none’ is not a choice. I’m not on the pill.”

—

“Not on the pill. In this day and age? That’s ballsy of her. No pun intended.”

“She said they make her retain too much water. Which, being a ballerina…”

“Was she a pro?”

“Yeah, she had the rubber on me before I even knew what happened.”

“I meant a professional ballerina.”

“Oh, yeah. She dances with PNB.”

—

For me, “none” wasn’t even remotely an option.

I scanned my choices, noticing she was already picking out the normal-sized Trojan hiding amongst a plethora of Magnum sizes.

“Ummm, actually…” I begin, reaching for the largest Magnum, an XXXL.

“Oh please, that’s not even going to stay on!” she laughs, committing to the Trojan. “Besides, I’m running out of those.”

—

“I know I know. Lucky girl.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

—

Normally I would have insisted on the Magnum, but her well-practiced hands had me wrapped before I had time to protest.

“Uuuughhhh…fuuuuck,” she moaned in satisfaction, her carnal itch finally being scratched, pulling her thong to the side and sliding me in entirely in one motion. Her powerful dancer muscles gripped me tight, her hips gently rocking to take full advantage of my curve.

“Is this ok?” she thoughtfully asked as she sat up, cautiously putting her weight on my balls.

“Yeah. That…that feels really good,” I reassured, watching her take off her bra to free her perky B’s. Belonging to a warm blooded straight man, my hands immediately caress them, eager to give them a gentle squeeze. I brought my lips to her fully erect nipples, dainty pencil erasers that sat in the middle of small areola, pointing temptingly upward. This brought a soft moan of pleasure from the ballerina, and she pressed into me harder, clearly wanting more.

We built up a steady pace, enough chemistry shared between us for a solid foundation. Soon enough, the sounds of lustful moans and slapping skin filled her bedroom. I fell back onto her bed and let her fully take control. She took full advantage, grinding her hips and bouncing into my thrusts, her nails digging into my chest. Her eyes, trying to maintain contact with mine, shut in uncontrolled pleasure before crying out.

“Fuck…I’m gonna…fuck…fuck…fuckfuck…ahhhhhhhhh…” she moaned, slamming down on me hard one last time to push herself over the edge. I feel a small puddle form as her pussy spasmed around me, her mouth agape in orgasmic bliss.

—

“How long did that take you?”

“Take me?”

“To make her cu…climax?”

“I don’t know. 3 minutes?”

“Impressive, if true,” Dr. Larrson looked at me skeptically. “Sorry, carry on…”

“I mean…she was really horny…Anyway.” I pause before continuing. “So, here’s where it all went wrong.”

—

I let her come down from her high before coaxing her to the bed, pulling out to change to positions without crushing my balls. Still a bit lightheaded from her orgasm, her body was almost limp when I spread her legs and slid back into her. On my haunches, the tip of my cock raked against her G-spot, drawing a purr of pleasure from her throat, and a clench from her pussy.

Satisfied that I satisfied her, I figure it’s time to get mine. It takes a little bit since I have the condom on, but her powerful muscles felt amazing around me. Just another perk of fucking a professional ballerina.

A couple more minutes and I was nearly there, and the continual grating against her happy spot also brought her back to life.

“Oh fuck…don’t stop…don’t stop…” she moaned, looking dead in my eye with a death grip on my forearm.

—

“I hope you didn’t change anything,” Dr. Larrson quips.

“What?”

“Well, it’s just that whenever I say “Don’t stop,” he inevitably starts fucking me harder and ruins the flow. When we say don’t stop, it just means to keep going.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply. “And for the record, I didn’t speed up or slow down. Everything in the moment was just right.”

“Good boy.”

“Uh…thanks,” I reply, my sack involuntarily starting to swell.

—

Words stopped being passed back and forth, just primal grunts and moans. “Oh fuuuuuckkkk…” she finally cried out again, and her second orgasm ripped through her.

That, of course, was enough to push me over the edge.

“Aahhhh…ahhhh…” I started to cum, and I was able to pullout just in time, the first jets starting to flood the condom.

“Why…why’d you pull out?” she faintly asked, her pussy still spasming, longing for something to milk.

But I couldn’t reply. Mouth open in a silent scream, I gripped my cock tight to hold the condom on as shot after shot after shot erupted from my shaft.

The ballerina finally opened her eyes, which instantly became wide in shock as it registered what was taking place. A full 45 seconds had passed and I was still cumming, the condom now filled to the size of a large water balloon. With each pulse my testicles shrank in relief, but it was another 30 seconds before they were even remotely within a normal size.

By that time, the ballerina was propped up against her head board, speechlessly staring at me in both horror and disbelief.

“Is…is that all jizz, or did you piss in there too?!” she finally spit once the throbs from my sack subsided.

“Jizz. Just jizz,” I lazily reply, lightheaded in post-orgasmic bliss, once again answering a question I’ve been asked a million times before.

“What. The. Fuck,” she gasped, cautiously approaching the overfilled condom that was now so heavy is sagged to the mattress.

“That…that’s why I wanted the Magnum.”

“You didn’t tell me you came like a horse!” she countered. “No, I’ve seen horses cum. This…this is a fucking whale or something.”

“Sor…sorry,” I sheepishly replied, though very used to her reaction. “I…I’m just going to head to the bathroom now,” I continue, gingerly inching off the bed, trying to corral the fluids in the condom in my right while holding it on my rapidly softening shaft with my left.

The ballerina just sat there, watching me incredulously. I was almost to the bathroom before she suddenly bolted out of bed, making a beeline for me.

“No wait! Wait! Let me help…” she began, reaching for me.

“No…I,..I…I got…” was all that left my mouth before disaster struck. She bumped me with enough force to loosen my grip on the 5 pounds of spunk that was precariously contained in the rapidly weakening condom. My left hand had no chance to keep it on my soft dick.

*SPLOOSH*

She had instinctively bent over to try to catch it. Instead, the overfilled condom hit the cold tiled floor and exploded. The path of least resistance was straight up and a literal jet stream of jizz shot directly into her face.

The silence was profound.

I stood there butt-naked, and for the most part, clean, the ballerina having taken nearly all of the fallout.

“I…” I tried to begin, but all she did was hold up a finger to stop me, then pointed to the door.

“I’ll…I’ll see myself out.”

“You do that.”

—

“So, you see, Dr. Larrson, that’s why I’m here. I’m hoping you can help me with controlling my sperm production.”

“Well, Chris. That’s…that’s quite the story.”

Dr. Larrson looked flushed and a bit flustered, but maintained her professionalism.

“Now, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad it looked…”

I grab my phone and open my messages.

“IT’S BEEN 2 DAYS AND I’M STILL COMBING CUM OUT OF MY HAIR, ASSHOLE!!”

“I bet she was using warm water.”

“What?”

“Semen is high in protein. Kind of like eggs. Very much like eggs, actually. When you use warm water, you are basically cooking…you know what, never mind,” Dr. Larrson stops, deciding that she is oversharing.

“Good to know.”

It really was good to know. Lord knows what kind of messes I’ve made and I never thought to make sure the water was cold.

“Anyway. So first things first,” Dr. Larrson refocuses. “We, of course, are going to need a sample,” she continues, scribbling on my chart.

“You just sit tight. Try to stay warm. Do you need a blanket or something?” she adds, standing up, smoothing her short skirt and straightening her blouse and coat, causing her ample bosom to jiggle generously. It’s enough to get the plumbing working, and I subtly shift to get more comfortable. I figure I should let it happen, as it sounds like I’m going to have to do the deed very shortly. I only hope they have some material to jerk it to, though the spartan exam room is getting my hopes up.

“Candance will be in shortly to explain the procedure,” Dr. Larrson concludes, not waiting for a response. “Just sit tight!”

With a rather seductive wink and a click of the door, I am left alone in the room once again.

“Ahhhhh,” she gasps again after sucking hard on my left nut, her lipstick stains a nice touch. “You ever think about waxing these puppies?” she asks. “I’ve got a fantastic esthetician. I can totally hook you up.”

“