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."

I nodded.

"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.