A friend at work advised me that there were several new virus strains going around and everybody in his department had gotten sick at one time or another in the last month. I thought it a good idea to take my annual physical and get a shot for protection at the same time, so I made an appointment to see my general practitioner.

Oddly enough, when I arrived at the doctor’s office, I was told that he had himself contracted a flu virus and was recuperating at home. The nurse informed me that his counterpart, Doctor Alex Hills was taking all the appointments. Minutes later I was waiting in a cold examination room, dressed only in my boxers, as usual, and almost at the point of shivering with cold before the door opened.

Two women entered, one in a white lab coat and a younger one in blue scrubs. The woman in the white lab coat had honey blond hair that nestled around her collar, and deep blue eyes. She introduced herself as Dr. Hill. “I thought the name “Alex” implied a male gender,” I said.

“It can stand for either gender, depending on the parent’s choice,” she answered. She took a seat on a rolling stool in front of me, and the younger woman stood quietly by the door. “How can I help you today?” the doctor inquired.

I explained my concern for catching a flu virus and that I thought it prudent to get my annual physical as well. She asked me a few pertinent questions and went through the usual preliminary steps, checking my pulse, using her stethoscope, etc. Then she surprised me with a question.

“Generally we have a third person in the exam room when the patient and doctor are of different genders, but Irene, here, is the only nurse available,” she explained. “Would you rather have her leave or stay here? You can always reschedule if you would be more comfortable waiting for Doctor Davis,” she offered.

“I think I’d rather do what I came for, but I feel better if she was not here watching,” I answered, a little nervously.

The nurse smiled and left the room as the doctor continued. “I’m just going to schedule some of the usual tests before you leave; blood pressure, urine sample and chest x-rays, and I’ll send you the results and let you know if there is anything to be concerned about.”

“That works for me, thanks,” I replied.

“Okay, stand up and drop your boxers around your knees for me,” she said routinely. At first I gave no thought to exposing myself to a strange woman, but then I felt her cold hand cupping my balls. She had forgone the usual step of donning elastic gloves before touching the patient. I gasped involuntarily, and also realized the situation and my cock began to grow against my will.

She seemed to focus on my growing erection with unsurprised expectations. “This happens frequently; there’s no need to be embarrassed,” she said, but I noticed her voice becoming softer.

Her fingers gently rolled my balls in her cold hand and within a minute I was fully erect. I’m not particularly large, seven inches is my full potential, but my cock does stand straight out when erect.

Then she acted as though I was not even there, and she began talking softly, staring at my cock. “Most men cannot avoid getting erect when a woman touches their genitals, and even a doctor’s touch can be arousing,” she said. While she warmed her hand with my balls still in her fingers, she used the other hand to pet the top of my shaft, like she would a dog’s head.

The effect was profound. She “petted” the shaft from tip to base slowly and my cock began to throb under her touch. “My husband is bigger than this, and he likes it when I do this for him for a long time, but it always ends in the same result,” she said, almost in a whisper.

My arms had hung obediently by my side but my hands were now fisted as my arousal became nearly unbearable. When she saw precum beading and dripping from the tip, she wrapped her fingers around my shaft and slowly stroked it, emphasizing on pulling her fist towards her more firmly as she stroked.

It was probably my ragged breath that gave away the fact that I was about to spray her with whatever I had stored, and she let go of my balls and cupped her hand under my cock and pulled the tip down firmly, aiming it at her cupped palm.

I had not uttered a word during the whole process but I could not suppress a deep groan as I watched her drain my balls and form a creamy puddle in her hand. When we both knew that she had it all, she released my cock and grabbed a handful of tissues from the desk nearby. She handed me the tissues and then she went to the sink and washed her hands.

She turned to me and said, “We’ll eliminate the urine test today because after doing that, excess sugar would appear in your sample and that would cause a false reading.”

I stumbled for the right words as I pulled up my boxers, but finally managed to ask, “May I ask why you did that? I mean, it was wonderful, but why did you?”

“Of course you liked it; all men like having their penis stroked to ejaculation by a woman,” she said in a business like statement. “But I’ve also gained several male clients by doing this selectively, and when I break away into my own private practice, I imagine you might be one of my clients who will “come” with me?” she asked. Her fingers made the “quote” and “unquote” signs in the air when she said the word “come”.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, almost obediently.

“I thought you would. There are many exams you might enjoy if you put yourself in my hands,” she said with a knowing smile.

I made another appointment on my way out.