I felt like a fool, a complete and stupid fool. There I stood, naked except for my socks, in front of the doctor who had known me since I was born. I had to get a physical so I could play football; I mean go out for the team.
"You're too skinny," he said. "They'll kill you, those big guys."
'I'm pretty fast."
"You'd better be." He looked at some papers on his desk. "You've grown, haven't you? Five eleven now. But only a hundred and forty-two."
I nodded. "This summer, about three inches, my feet and stuff."
"Yes," he said with a smile. "I can see your stuff. How much has it grown?"
"I don't know," I lied. "Some. Everything grew."
"Does it get hard?"
"Have you used it, boned a girl?"
I shook my head and blushed.
"Nothing to be ashamed of. Perfectly normal."
"Sometime it just get s hard, you know, for no reason, in class, even in church."
"You'll get over that. Do you play with it?"
'That's OK too, that's normal, healthy. But sex is even healthier." He looked at my form. "Hm, you're fifteen. That's a problem. If you have sex, it better be with somebody your age, under sixteen. That's the magic number." He sniffed and made a face. "It probably doesn't matter unless some woman attacks you."
I nodded and swallowed and sniffed, thoroughly confused.
"I'm curious," he said. "How long is it when it's hard?"
"I don't know," I lied. "Six, seven inches, pretty long."
"OK, that's normal, on the high side but normal. Can you get it hard?"
"Don't think so," I said, reaching down and grasping it. "Not now, not in here."
"Hm," he said and pushed a button on his phone. The door opened and a young woman in a white dress came in, a very pretty blonde woman. "Miss Aldrich," he said as I covered my groin with my hands, "we need to see this young man's erection. Give him a hand, will you."
She smiled and said, "Of course," and knelt down in front of me. She brushed my hands aside, grasped my scotum firmly and began stroking my cock, stretching it out, circling the head like she was trying to unscrew it. She concentrated on her work, the tip of her tongue between her lips and her big jugs stretching the uniform she was wearing.
"Oh damn," I said as I felt my prick swelling and lengthening. Nobody but me had ever touched it before. She looked up at me and smiled as she corkscrewed her hand up and down my shaft and squeezed my balls. Then she stuck out her pink tonge and licked its head. I about died.
"There," she said, standing up and wiping her hand on her hip. 'That's a beauty." She smiled at me and licked her lips.
My cock jerked and rose even higher, arched up like it usually was, kind of banana shaped.
"Thanks," said the doctor and she left. Left me standing there with my hard-on sticking out in front of me and pointing at the ceiling. The doctor opened a drawer in his desk and handed me a ruler. "Measure it."
I did and handed him back the ruler.
"Well?" he said.
I blinked and swallowed. "Eight inches," I said, "and maybe a quarter."
"I'm going to call it eight and a half," he said, opening a manila folder and writing.
"You won't tell my mother."
He smiled and said, "Of course not. Keep it clean, especially under the foreskin. Wish you'd been circumcised. And exercise it regularly, best way is with a girl. Understand? Nothing wrong with masturbation, perfectly normal, but girls are a lot better. Doesn't you school have a couple of sluts?."
I nodded and hoped my prong would relax. I wanted to jerk it like I did almost every day.
"I assure you, young man, you are going to be very popular with the other sex." He signed my school form and handed it to. "Good luck in football." He smiled and I got dressed.
On the way down in the elevator I got my cock straightened out and by the time I got home and locked my bike, it had finally relaxed. I lay on my bed with my balls in my hand and tried to think. Slutty Sheila, I decided, she was the answer. She was the number one school slut who handed out blowjob like they were candy kisses. And she was a pretty girl too, really built, a junior.
I got her number and called, introduced myself and said I wanted to see her.
"Really," she said, "why?"
"You know, it need it bad, blue balls, that's my problem."
"Poor you. If you want to get laid it's twenty bucks, cash. OK?"
'Sure," I said. "Where and when."
"Nobody home at my house; come on over, and we can do it now. You a virgin?"
"Be there in ten minutes," I said, ignoring her question.
.... There is more of this story ...