Caring Doctor - Sex Stories

Caring Doctor

This is a fiction story I posted on another site. That morning I woke up to a weird sensation. My penis felt bigger, but it didn’t turn out like the dream-come-true many guys hope for; on the contrary, I sensed that my limp dick was unable to extend and get hard. Pushing the covers aside, I pulled down my pyjamas to take a look and saw that my cock definitely had an unusual shape: the foreskin had swollen, covering the head with an awful amount of skin. I’m uncut, so having the head covered was not strange, but it had never looked like this. At 35, and not lacking an occasional fuck from time to time, I still loved to jerk my cock, trying not to cum to prolong the pleasure and make it last for hours, but that is normally known to cause swollen balls and an engorged dick, not puffy foreskin. Worried that my hands might have inadvertently come into contact with something noxious from last nights’ play, I dashed to the bathroom and began carefully washing my dick and the rest of the area, using warm water and soap, and left for work hoping for the best. When, several hours and countless checks later, I returned home with my penis in pretty much the same condition, I decided I needed to see my GP, Dr. White. I got an appointment for the next day, and started worrying about how to explain my case to him: you don’t usually go around talking about your sexual practices to another person, especially when those habits involve masturbation. Without reaching a solution, at the arranged ...

... time I went to the doctor’s; a few minutes later I was in his office. “Good morning, doctor,” I started; “Welcome, Bob… you can call me Dave, remember? I haven’t see you in a long time,” he said shaking my hand. “You’re right; my last yearly check-up was… almost 8 months ago,” I said. He was about my age, maybe a bit older, and taller than me, very well built. A blond, curly mane topped his face, where two light green eyes sparkled, joined by a friendly smile to make the patient feel at ease. A starched white coat covered his clothes, only his brown trousers visible over a pair of white clogs. “You’re early, then,” he commented. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting at his desk and gesturing me to a chair in front of it. I strained to explain as best as I could the present condition of my penis, blushing for the intimate nature of the matter and refraining from giving any suggestion at what might have caused it, but he went straight to the point. “Let me see it, Bob,” he said, standing and pulling on a pair of latex gloves; “Come close to this lamp and lower your trousers and underpants, so I can have a look.” I did what he said, and he bent a little for a closer inspection. “Hum,… the foreskin is swollen… does it hurt? No, eh… good;” as he spoke, one gloved hand reached for my dick, probing on one side, then the other, and then pulled my foreskin back to expose the head. In those brief moments, I found myself thinking that this was the very first time that another man’s hand was ...