I'd always suffered from a tight foreskin. Even when my dick was soft, and the rubbery head of my organ pliable, I was barely able to pull back the fleshy cap so I could properly wash. When I was younger, our family doctor said I would probably outgrow the problem. So rather than have me unnecessarily circumcised, my parent decided to wait.
Puberty came and went, and I still had the same old problem. In fact, it actually seemed to be getting worse. Proportionately, the head of my dick had completely outgrown my foreskin, It really gave me a problem when I got a hardon. My foreskin simply wouldn't stretch enough to allow my swollen knob to pass, which sometimes was painful as hell.
I put up with the agony until I was eighteen, at which time I went to see a doctor of my own choosing. Circumcision seemed to be my only means of relief. At my age, it was a little embarrassing, and I hated to part with my cantankerous old friend, but I'd suffered long enough.
Dr. Peterson was in his mid-thirties. Be was also very attractive, but I tried not to think about that. I tried not to think about sex at all. It was too painful.
Except for a skimpy, paper gown, I was lying naked on the examination table when the doctor came in and read over my chart. I'd given all the information pertaining to my problem to his nurse, which much to my relief happened to be a male nurse. He had written everything down for the doctor.
After putting on a pair of latex gloves, Doctor Peterson began his examination. "Let's have a look," he said, pulling up the gown. I couldn't imagine why, but he was staring down at my nakedness as if he was somehow impressed. I didn't have a big cock, at best it was average in size. He took my limp organ between his fingers and thumb and inspected it thoroughly. I hadn't meant to, but I heard myself moan softly as he squeezed the head of my cock and retracted my taut foreskin. I couldn't help it, the head of my dick was super sensitive.
"Was that painful?' he asked.
"Not exactly," I said, trying not to blush.
He chuckled. "I see. So you have a very ticklish knob."
"You're a good looking kid, are you sexually active?"
I had expected him to ask some personal questions. "No, not really."
"Do you masturbate?"
I was eighteen, horny more often than not, and I had a lame dick. Most sexual acts were agonizing. My right hand had become my most intimate acquaintance. I saw no reason to lie. "Yeah, now and then."
"Dose masturbating cause you any discomfort?"
"Not it I pull back my foreskin before I get hard. If I don't, yeah, it can hurt, sometimes a lot."
He opened a drawer in the side of the table and brought out a tube of lubricant. After squirting a generous amount of the lubricant onto his index finger, he asked. "Have you ever undergone a prostate exam?"
"Not that I can recall," I said.
Doctor Peterson stepped to the end of the examining table and had me draw my knees up so my feet were resting flat on the table. He then eased his greasy finger between the cheeks of my ass and smeared the lubricant over my tightly cinched butthole. "This might feel a little strange at first," he warned, "but it's not at all painful." I gasped sharply as his finger slid into my rectum. My cock immediately began to swell. I was getting more and more embarrassed by the moment, but in an attempt to avoid a painful erection, I reached down and retracted my foreskin. I guess my uneasiness was showing, because, as he continued to become more intimately familiar with my prostate, the good doctor assured me it was perfectly normal for me to get an erection.
"It's quite all right if you want to masturbate," he said.
Was I hearing him right? Did he just invite me to yank my pud? "What? You mean, right here? Now?"
"It might be helpful in ruling out any other abnormalities that you may not have recognized."
Abnormalities, my ass. There was no clinical reason for me to shoot a load. This guy just wanted to watch me jack off, and it was a tempting offer. Having his finger up my ass was really turning me on. My pisshole was seething with precum. I had no idea what he was doing, but what ever it was, I liked it.
My taut foreskin was bunched up behind the flared rim of my swollen cockhead like a knotted rubber band. Doctor Peterson smiled as my hand began to slowly work my tingling pecker. "That's it," he said, cramming his finger deeper into my rectum. "There's no reason to be shy." I thought my nuts would explode when he reached out with his free hand and gently squeezed my hot, sweaty ball-sac.
Well, needless to say, I didn't take much fist pumping to convince my cock to surrender its wad of gooey jism. I jacked off a lot. I did it so often I sometimes wondered if I wasn't addicted. But for me, this was a first, and coming had never felt better.
As I cleaned myself up and got dressed, Doctor Peterson gave me his professional opinion. "Your only problem seems to be your inadequate foreskin," he said. "Other than that, you appear to be quite normal, and healthy. I recommended circumcision. I think it's the only way of alleviate your distress."
At his recommendation, I went in for outpatient surgery. Three weeks after surgery, I went back to his office so he could check the incision to make sure I was healing properly. I was still quite tender, but improving by the day. Thank God, I was still taking medication that prevented me from getting an erection. My balls were aching for more of the handsome doctor's healing touch.
After a brief examination of my snipped cock, I got dressed. "You're healing nicely," said Doctor Peterson. I think you can stop taking your medication now, but no sex yet, and that includes masturbation. I'll see you again in three weeks." It was a little uncomfortable the first couple of times I got hard, but after that, it felt wonderful. It was great being about to get a hardon without having any pain. By the time I went for my last doctor's visit, I was so horny if the wind blew I got a hardon. It had been six weeks since I'd gotten my nuts off. I felt like I was drowning in pent up cum.
I was lying on the table, dressed in the customary paper gown when Doctor Peterson walked in. "So how you doing?" He asked. "Had any erections?"
"Dozens," I said.
"At first, but not anymore."
"Have you been masturbating?"
"You told me not to."
"Good boy," said Doctor Peterson, lifting up the gown to admire his surgical skills. "Beautiful."
"Yeah," I said. "You do nice work, Doc."
He started rubbing my balls. "I wasn't talking about my work," he said. "I was talking about you, about your penis."
I was getting excited as hell. "Do you think I need another prostate exam?"
He looked at me and grinned. "Probably not, but would you like one anyway?"
"If it wouldn't be too much of a bother."
He reached into the drawer under the table for his tube of lube. "No bother at all."
I didn't have to be told how to position my legs. I remembered very well; knees up, feet on the edge of the table, legs spread. "Do you want me to jackoff like I did the last time?"
"Absolutely," said Doctor Peterson. "I would imagine you've been looking forward to this. It will do you good to ejaculate." Oh, he had no fucking idea how right he was.
By the time he had stepped to the end of the table, my hand was already busy fingering my stiff cock. The minute he put his finger up my ass my balls tightened and cum spewed from my pisshole like an erupting geyser. I was awed by the force and quantity of my ejaculation. Doctor Peterson laughed. "Well, that certainly didn't take long."
"Please, don't stop," I gasped. "I want to cum again."
"That's understandable," he said, this time easing not one, but two of his long, slender fingers into my tight butthole.
I moaned softly, passionately, as his fingers slid back and forth in my greasy rectum. He wasn't massaging my prostate, he was finger fucking my ass, and it felt fantastic.
I looked down between my gaping knees and caught him rubbing himself through his long white coat. "So this makes you horny too."
"I'm only human," said Doctor Peterson. "You're a very attractive young man. You've got an absolutely beautiful cock, which at the time is seething in gooey semen. And in addition to that, I'm standing here with my fingers buried in you're hairy, little butthole. Yeah, I'd say I'm horny all right."
"Show me," I said. "I'd like to see your cock."
Using only his free hand to open the front of his lab coat, he hurriedly unfastened his pants. He had a sizable, flexing bulge in his Jockey shorts that set my curiosity to reeling. As he pulled down the front of his underwear his inviting cock sprang up. You want to talk about pretty cocks, the Doc had one of the prettiest I'd ever seen.
Doctor Peterson's cock wasn't much bigger than mine, and like mine, his was circumcised. He had a lot more body hair than me. His strong thighs were covered with dense curly, black hair. Even his big, swollen bangers were exceptionally hairy. I couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to have his rigid dick up my ass. I scooted down on the table until my ass was parked right on the edge. His amazing fingers were still doing a splendid job of banging my bunghole, but what I really wanted up my ass was his cock.
The head of his dick grazed one cheek of my butt and I thought I was in paradise. I moaned, and wiggled, and squirmed on the table, grinding my ass against his fist. "Can you get into me any deeper," I panted. "It feels really good, but if you could get a little deeper it would feel even better."
"Are you saying you want more than my fingers in your rectum?" He asked. "If there's something you want, just ask for it."
"You cock," I whimpered passively. "I want your cock. I want you to fuck me."
Doctor Peterson pulled his fingers out of my ass and took off the latex gloves. God, I felt so empty without his fingers inside me. At first I was afraid I'd gone to far, maybe I'd asked more of him than he was willing to give. Then I saw him reach into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a condom. "I had a feeling I might be needing this," he said, as he put it on.
My heart was clamoring wildly against the inside of my rib cage. I held my breath as the good doctor positioned the bulbous head of his organ between my slippery butt cheeks. "You ever done this before?" He asked.
I shook my head. "Only thought about doing it," I said. "Well, then you need to know it's going to hurt some at first, but the discomfort will pass quickly."
I bit down on my lower lip as the head of his helmet shaped cockhead stretched my hot, gooey pucker. "Oh shit, it hurts," I said weakly, trying my best to gulp down the pain. My throbbing cock jerked spastically upon my belly as he slowly sank the full length of his ramrod deep into the murky depths of my dismayed bowel.
He began moving, slowly at first, then with more deliberate gusto. Oh Christ, I'd never felt anything like it in my life. From deep within me, a pleasurable warmth radiated outward, covering my tense body with a thin film of lustful sweat.
I took my hot, stiff cock firmly in my fist and began working it up and down. My first climax had come so suddenly I hadn't noticed how naked my dick felt without its foreskin. The satisfying friction of my pumping hand was no less, or no greater than it had ever been. It was just different.
Inside my rectum, Doctor Peterson's distended cock quaked with ecstasy. Holding tightly to my thighs, he pulled my ass back against his groin. Gasping blissfully, he held himself inside me, motionless, as his lumbering rod filled the tip of the condom with spurts of sticky ejaculate.
The expanding of his orgasmic cock stretched my fuckhole to an even greater extent. It also increased the pressure being applied to my already stressed prostate. My hand was now working my meat fast and furious. I was getting close. My scrotum tightened around my pinging balls, and I heard myself gasping. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum!" The fruits of my efforts were phenomenal. I shot eight, or ten times, before the spastic seizures in my pisstube finally subsided.
Doctor Peterson cleaned himself up and straightened his cloths. He washed his hands and picked up my chart. Hell, I was still sprawled on the examining table trying to catch my breath.
"Your penis seems to have healed quite well,' he said with a mischievous wink. "Still, to be on the safe side, I should probably see you again in a couple of weeks for some additional therapy."
It sure sounded like a good idea to me. I was glad Doctor Peterson practiced such thorough, precautionary medicine. I wonder if my health insurance covers this sort of physical therapy?