“Tim!” Dr. Assad said as he came out of the back room. “Good of you to come. Step back here with me.”
I followed the doctor through the examination room and back to a room that was a little like a studio apartment. This room was a little nicer than the rest of the place, which was kind of drab and not as comfortable looking as this room, which he explained doubled as a place to stay when bad weather kept him from getting home.
“Many times I work late, like today,” Dr. Assad explained as he set me at a desk and put my file down.
I almost felt guilty, but remembered he was the one that suggested it. Besides, I liked seeing Dr. Assad dressed casually like he was. Gone were the stiff blue shirt and tie, replaced by a sharp looking short sleeved beige shirt with camel colored pants.
He looked like he was ready to go play golf, but I was mesmerized by the doctor’s arms, which were covered with a profuse amount of hair. Also, the open neck of his shirt exposed what seemed to be the upper part of a very hairy chest.
Too bad you’ve got to go home to the wife, I thought to myself as I watched the doctor shuffle his papers, because I would not mind getting another exam as long as I could reciprocate.
“We can put your mother at ease, Tim,” Dr. Assad said. “You’re a very healthy young man.”
“That’s good,” I replied.
“She was concerned about your sexual development,” Dr. Assad said. “There is a condition where men have what’s called a micro-penis, but that doesn’t apply to you. You have a small penis, but nowhere near that extreme.”
The thought that there actually were guys out there even less blessed than I was, was a little comforting.
“She was also worried about your relative lack of body hair,” Dr. Assad said, making me wince. “That’s nothing to be worried about. Some get testosterone treatments when there is a noticeable lack of development, but I see no need for anything like that.”
“Might be worth it,” I suggested. “I feel weird being like this sometimes. Hairy guys look so much more manly.”
“And you find hirsute men attractive?”
“Hell yeah,” I chuckled. “Opposites attract I guess.”
“Perhaps so. Maybe that’s why you appeal to them as well.”
“Probably.”
“During your exam I noted that you have nicely developed chest and shoulder muscles,” he continued. “I believe you said that you lift weights. Even in your relaxed state that was clear. I imagine while you are exercising that muscular development becomes even more pronounced.”
“I guess,” I said.
“You’re obviously a very virile young man. When I asked you to masturbate for me, you ejaculated 1.4 milliliters of semen,” Dr. Assad said. “That’s significantly more than the average, which is usually less than half that amount.”
“I didn’t get to measure your second ejaculation,” Dr. Assad said. “The one that you produced when I stimulated your prostate, but that seemed to be a large volume of semen as well. Have you found that you ejaculate more than your lovers do?”
“I dunno,” I mumbled, not ever measuring it like the doctor did because I was too busy enjoying it.
“Well, your tests all came back fine,” Dr. Assad said, showing me what looked to me to be gibberish, but as long as I was okay I just nodded. “I saw no damage at all to your anus or your rectum, and I did examine that area quite thoroughly.”
“That’s good.”
“I assume that the man who violated you used lubrication,” Dr. Assad said.
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a violation,” I interjected, looking over and seeing that picture of me naked in the folder.
“That’s right,” Dr. Assad said. “Forgive me. I guess that listening to your mother all that time and her referring to what this man did to you as rape, has affected me. You wanted the man to have you anally, right?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother also mentioned something about the man being large,” Dr. Assad said. “I assume that she was referring to the size of the man’s penis.”
“Uh – yeah.”
“And that didn’t bother you? Him being large?”
“No sir,” I said, beginning to feel a strange vibe filling the room.
“I was curious – do you prefer being with large men, as opposed to those more modestly endowed?
“I guess.”
“This man was much older than you,” Dr. Assad said. “Do you find yourself attracted to older men?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “My roommate in college told me that I’m trying to compensate for my father being gone. Psych 101 I guess.”
“Interesting? You spoke to your roommate about your sexuality?”
“Yes. We sorta had a relationship.”
“That must have been nice for the two of you. Did he have a large penis?”
“Kenny? No. I mean, he was bigger than me, but not really big.”
“In addition to letting other men take you anally, do you also enjoy your lovers in that fashion?”
“No, not really,” I said sheepishly.
“Why is that, Tim?”
“I – I can’t really reach very well.”
“Does having anal sex give you pleasure, or do you do it for your partner’s pleasure?”
“Both, I guess. I know I like it and they seem to also.”
“That’s good,” Dr. Assad said. “Sex should be pleasurable for both parties, and you seem to be a very sensitive young man. Take the exam I gave you. You seemed to get enjoyment out of my examining your anus and rectum.”
“Um – after a while I did,” I admitted.
“I could see that,” Dr. Assad said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. I must admit, Tim, that while it has rarely occured over the course of my career, I found myself enjoying examining you. Very much so.”
I swallowed hard while trying to avoid the piercing stare of those dark eyes behind the glasses, first focusing on the thick 5 o’clock shadow on his face as I tried to stay calm and then lowering my eyes to the folder on the desk.
“Does that bother you?” Dr. Assad asked me. “Me saying that I took pleasure from examining you?”
“I – uh – no, I guess.”
“When I was examining you, perhaps I was feeling a little like your mother did that night when she so rudely interrupted you,” Dr. Assad said. “Part horror, at the thought of your sweet innocence being taken, and part jealously. Do you understand?”
“I – I think so.”
“What would you say if I told you that when you were on the table, for a second I didn’t care that your mother and my receptionist were just outside the door? That things were going through my mind that weren’t – how should I say this? Not very professional?”
Dr. Assad picked up that picture of me, and as he did he rose to his feet. I didn’t notice at first, my eyes going to the pile of papers still on the desk, but after the doctor set his glasses on the pile I glanced up, and there it was.
His cock. Hanging out of the fly of his camel slacks, his flaccid penis dangled freely, the rich cocoa hue in stark contrast to the light toned fabric it emerged from.
I could feel the doctor’s eyes on me as his gaze shifted from my picture to me, while I sat hypnotized by what I was seeing. While the vibe in the room had been different from the start, the last thing I was expecting was to see the doctor expose himself in front of me like this.
“While I’m sure I’m not as well endowed as your mother’s gentleman friend – what was his name?”