Man with a tash! The Adult Story Hub

The Ample Patient

Single chapter

Written by Kristen 

I have trouble getting up from my desk. My legs feel numb. My heart continues to race. I need time, time to think. I feel as if I just saw a ghost.
"Did I really hear what I thought I heard?" I ask myself. "Did a fabulously handsome man just ask me about reducing the size of his penis?"
I know what this means, of course. A male stripper wanting his dick pared down to size can only mean one thing! It is obvious! He must really be hung! I naturally want to know how hung, and then I remember the strip joint. I make a promise to myself to visit next week. I will sneak my way into a seat in the back corner so he won't notice, and then I will check out his size.
Doctor Polichvich and the young girl come out of the exam room just as I step out of my office.
"What about those pills they show on those commercials?" The young girl cries.
"Bogus, I'm afraid," Susan wraps a consoling arm around her. "They're just specialty formulated vitamins. You can try them if you want. They won't do any harm. But it's cheaper if you just eat healthy and take standard vitamin supplements."
I silently point to my office, not wanting to interrupt but needing to get her attention.
Polichvich nods.
"There's no charge because I really didn't do anything," She continues to console the young girl. "Come back if you need to talk."I duck back into my office as Doctor Polichvich bids the young girl goodbye and gives her a few pointers. She hands over a pamphlet hanging on the wall that has the numbers for various support groups and the suicide prevention hotline just in case.
"You need me?" She pokes in her head a minute later.
"Close the door," I tell her. "I need to talk to you about a request of a walk-in."
"Do you mean Mrs. Alvery?" She looks out to the reception area. "Do you think she's having complications?"
I shake my head. "Not her, the other one."
Susan looks. "Wow! What a hunk!" She takes in a breath. "I didn't even notice him! I must be getting old."
Susan isn't that old, maybe in her mid 40s. I can tell she still has good tastes in men. We don't often talk to each other about our private lives, but I know from the two nurses that she's twice divorced and currently lives with a guy.
"He's an even bigger hunk than you think," I urge her to sit on the folding chair that suddenly appears from behind the door as it closes. I don't want him to see us talking.
"You have me interested!" She laughs. "But what on Earth are you talking about?"
I suddenly find myself at a loss for words. How should I say it? How should I phrase his question? My naturally gabby personality goes away and leaves me embarrassed.
"Well?" Susan prods. "I have one patient in back and another in front!"
"Actually," I correct her. "You have two patients waiting in front, provided you care to talk to him."
"What about?" She questions. "Is he growing boobs or something?" She laughs, but I fail to see the humor.
"I told him I would pass on his question," I begin shyly. "But it's kind of embarrassing just to ask it."
Susan seems to understand my reluctance. She sits back in the chair and waits. I suppose this is the same way she has to treat a lot of her young patients when they are too embarrassed to ask about breast reduction or enhancement surgery. She must simply wait until they are ready.
"The guy might be a little crazy," I first give my personal opinion. "Or maybe this is all part of some elaborate joke. I don't know! I just know that he asked me to pass on a question and ask if you would be willing to see him."
Susan nods without talking.
"It's like this," I give it to her straight. "The guy is interested in a reduction, but not to his boobs."
She returns a look of confusion. I hoped my hint would be sufficient for her to understand, but apparently not.
"What I'm talking about," I lean over and almost whisper into her ear. "He asked about reducing the length of his penis."
I do not see her reaction. I am leaned over too close to her face to see it, but I hear it. I think she stopped breathing. Maybe her heart started racing like mine.
"Interesting!" She quickly recovers. "Very interesting!"
"He knows it's not your specialty," I revert into my rambling mode. "But he logically figures you can maybe send him where to go. He asked if he could like maybe talk to you a few minutes. Maybe you could give him some suggestions or the names of some doctors. Maybe you know some fellow plastic surgeon who might be able to help."
Susan nods while I ramble on. She leans back in the chair, looks up to the ceiling, and seems to think. I don't know if she hears me.
"It appears as though I would be a fool not to see him," She concludes after I finish. "Wouldn't you agree?"
She smiles, and I know what she means.
"Yes," I agree. "I wouldn't mind seeing him too!"
She laughs at this remark. "Then tell him he can come in, but he will have to wait until my other patients are through. Treat him just like any other patient. Start setting up a chart on him. Get all his personal information. Ask for his name, address, allergies, medications, phone number..."
She needs not go on.
"And one more thing," Susan pauses at the door. "Ask him his length and how much he wants it shortened."
She says this professionally, with no emotion. I do not even realize the impact of her words until she turns the corner and disappears.
"And set up Mrs. Alvery in Exam One," She yells from down the hall.
My mind reverts back to my job. I open the window, call for Mrs. Alvery, and lead her back to Exam Room Number One. One of the nurses takes over and the other prepares to leave. I go back to my desk and start a new chart.
"Excuse me," I call out the window to the weightlifter sitting in the undersized chair. "I'm afraid I don't know your name."
"Jonathan," He stands up to join me at the window. "Jonathan Demetres."
He looks just as good from the front as he does from behind. Broad shoulders show off a hard chest. His blond hair makes him look German or maybe Swiss, but his last name sounds Russian. I can't help but fantasize him as a soldier of fortune sneaking across a boarder with a machine gun slug across one arm and a grenade launcher on the other. I only wished I was dressed better to meet him, like perhaps in a low cut blouse to draw his attention to my ample cleavage. Instead, I must talk to him while wearing a standard issue white uniform the same as what the doctor and the two nurses must wear.
"The doctor agreed to talk to you," I inform him as soon as he is near enough. "I spoke with her, and she says she will see you as soon as she is done with her scheduled patients."
"Great!" He gives me that wonderful smile again. "It will be about a fifteen minute wait. She's already got two other patients in back."
"No problem," He is very accommodating. "Actually, I figured I would have to wait a lot longer."
"And while you wait, I have a couple of standard questions that I have to ask all first time patients," I chime in. "I know you just want to talk to her, but I still have to ask you a bunch of stuff about allergies, allergic reactions, current medications, etcetera. It's the rule."
He nods.
I sit down at my computer and go down the list. I get his name, address, telephone number, occupation..."
"Construction manager and part time male stripper," I think I hit the delete key a dozen times to type in his 7 words. I already knew the answer, but actually hearing a guy admit that he's a male stripper is kind-of erotic.
"Allergies?"
"None."
"Allergic reactions?"
"None."
"Any prescriptions or any other medications you are currently taking?
"Just vitamins."
"Any diseases or conditions you want the Doctor to know about?"
"Nothing."
All in all, he looks to be in perfect medical health, but then I could have determined that by just looking at him.
Finally, I get to the bottom of the form where it asks for "Other pertinent information?" I think about Susan's last instruction and wonder if she was serious.
"There's one other thing Doctor Polichvich wanted me to ask you," I turn to face him, which I immediately regret. As soon as I see his face, I get embarrassed. I think my face turns bright red.
"It's kind of an embarrassing thing to ask," I take a deep breath and start up again, this time without looking. I keep my eyes on the computer screen. "The thing is, if you were a woman, Doctor Polichvich would want to know your cup size and what you want to change it to."
"Flaccid and full?" He replies without hesitation. He immediately understands, and unlike me is embarrassed at all but then I suppose that's from working in a male strip joint. I mean, if I stripped off my top to a room of strangers every night, I suppose I wouldn't be embarrassed at telling a man my cup size either.
As for his question, I'm not sure of the answer. Susan wasn't specific, but I know the question I want him to answer.
"Full," I take a gulp and look at him. "Twelve inches."
My legs go numb again. I can't move. This incredible hunk of a man just told me that he has a 12-inch cock. My God! What a whopper! I never knew they could grow so big. I type something into the computer, but it is nonsense. A lucky thing he can't read the screen from where he stands I hope.
"And I'm interested in paring it down to nine."
Nine inches! Even a 9-inch long cock is huge. The biggest I ever experienced was seven, and that was a plastic dildo. I can't imagine what it would be like to take a real live 9-inch cock deep inside me, much less twelve.
"Is there anything else Nurse?"
I realize he talks to me. I remain frozen in place, unable to move. I type more nonsense into the computer.
"No!" I answer almost in a shrill. "I mean, no, nothing else. We're done. You can go back and take a seat for now."
He backs away and leaves me to my own thoughts. I need to be left alone. I need to think. I need to calm down. My heart races and my hands shake, and they do so even more than before. I find myself unable to remember the location of the letters on the keyboard.
And then I wonder if he noticed. "Did he notice my amazement?" I ask myself. "Did he hear my gasp when he said his length?" I figure I must have turned red with embarrassment. My body nearly drips with sweat.
I stand up to get a drink of water. I go to the small bathroom, splash my whole face with water. I try to calm down, but the only thing I can think about is the 12inches. At that length, he would extend upward beyond his stomach. I look in the mirror at my own tummy, and I try to picture how far his 12-inches would extend inside me. I try to measure it out with my hand and nearly come up to my chest. "My God!" I think to myself. "His dick would practically go up my throat."
It takes a few minutes before I am able to return to my desk and finish the last line on the form. "Current length," I type. "12-inches. Desired Length: 9-inches."
It looks strange, but I type it out anyway. I print out the results and attach it to a clipboard.
He still sits in the waiting room. I glance over to check, but try not to look. I want to make sure he didn't leave my life, but he still sits waiting.
I try to go back to the billing statements but have a hard time concentrating. All I can think about is him. I can't believe such a good-looking guy and such a big dick sits so close to me. I feel this tremendous desire to call all my girlfriends and tell them to quick come over. I will tell them later, of course, but they won't believe me. I also feel a desire to call Bob, my boyfriend. Well, he's not my boyfriend any more. We broke up a few months ago, but I sure would like to use his dick tonight. I feel a tremendous desire to call him over to my apartment and ask him to screw my brains out. I'm in need of a good fuck. I have a long session planned with my dildo this evening. I wish I had it with me right now.
"Goodnight Dawn," I hear from behind me. "See you bright and early Monday morning."
"Have a good weekend," I tell Betty, one of the two nurses. She leaves right at 5:00. The higher paid nurses get to leave on time and the poor receptionist has to stay until the work is done, but on this night I do not mind.
I turn back to my work but only think about his cock. I type $112.12 into the spreadsheet by mistake. I can't get the number 12 out of my mind.
I pause to think about how long it must be when flaccid. A 12-inch hard-on must translate into something like a 6 or 9-inch softy. I mean, the thing must extend a third way down to his knees!
I pause again to think about its girth. I wonder how wide it must be. A long cock logically requires a wide support, or so I would think. I suppose it could be long and skinny, but probably not. I figure longer cocks must also be wider cocks.
"She say how long?"
I jump at the words.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jonathan apologizes. He stands at the open window. "I'm not in any hurry or anything, but it just looks like you're closing up."
"We close at five, but don't worry," I assure him. "The Doctor will still see you. The nurses are always in a rush to get out of here on Friday nights."
"Except you," He looks at my desk. "You look like a dedicated nurse who stays all hours."
I'm tempted to tell him that I am no nurse; just a receptionist, but I figure it doesn't matter.
"Somebody's got to get the work done," I tell him. "Besides, I don't have any real plans for tonight anyway." I contemplate the plans I have for my dildo right after I say this.
"Alone on a Friday night," He consoles me. "I figure a cute little thing like you would have a date every night of the week."
I think I blush with embarrassment at the compliment, especially considering the source. I can't believe I'm doing this, having a conversation with a handsome stud with a 12-inch dick or at least that's according to him. I have a disturbing thought: How do I know he isn't exaggerating? I mean, every guy likes to exaggerate about his size. I don't think many would take the time and trouble to go to a doctor and risk embarrassment just to exaggerate his size, but you never know. In Jonathan's case, I think he tells the truth. Besides, even if he exaggerates by only 1 or 2 inches like most guys do, he's still plenty long."
"You can always come over to the club later," He suggests.
I think I blush even more. "Sorry, but I'm not into that sort of thing."
He laughs. "That's what they all say, but every girl enjoys a good strip show." He pauses and then adds. "At least after they get a look at me."
I believe him!
"You ever been to a male strip joint?" He asks.
I shrug my shoulders. "Sort of."
"What do you mean, 'sort of?'"
"I've never been to a club," I explain. "But I've seen male strippers before, like at bachlorette parties, you know?"
"Boy do I know!" He rolls his eyes. "I used to do those things myself, but not any more. Too dangerous with all those drunk and horny woman around. They get one look at me and... Well, they nearly raped me a few times!"
A shiver goes through my body as I think about this. I wonder how "nearly" they got. I wouldn't mind raping him myself.
"Sorry if this embarrasses you," He must notice my reaction. "Maybe I should just go back and sit down."
"No," I don't want him to leave. "I was just thinking back to the bachlorette party." I lie. I find myself actually enjoying our conversation and want him stay, and it's not just because of his long dong at least I don't think so. I think it's because I'm getting used to him. He's a good conversationalist. He actually seems to be an intelligent, nice guy or maybe it is just because of his long dong.
"I suppose a Nurse doesn't need to go to strip joints," He thankfully decides to stay. "You see nudity all the time in the office."
I laugh. "I suppose that could be part of it." I notice he again mistakes me for a nurse, but again, I don't bother to correct him.
"Sort of like a male gynecologist going to a strip joint," He comments. "The guy probably gets sick of looking at it after a while.
I laugh some more. He's actually quite funny.
"That might be true," I decide to tell him about me not being a nurse. "But I should probably tell you that I'm not..."
Doctor Polichvich cuts me off in mid-sentence.
"Mrs. Alvery is done," I hear the Doctor behind me. I never heard her approach. I wonder how much of our conversation she overheard, and I especially wonder if she heard the part about me being a nurse.
"She's getting dressed right now and will be out in a minute."
Susan hands me the clipboard and chart, which I take to be filed. Meanwhile, Jonathan backs away and now sits down.
"That him?" She takes a quick glance out the window.
"Sure is!" I tell her.
"Very nice," She takes an interest. "Very nice indeed. And did you ask him?"
I know exactly what she wants to know.
"Under the comments section," I hand her his chart; the chart I printed out earlier.
"Really!" She takes one look at the paper and then another look back out to the waiting room.
"At least that's what he said."
"No wonder you were talking to him. Got a date yet?"
I grow red with embarrassment.
Susan smiles and then proceeds to call him in. "Mr. Demetres," She opens the door to the waiting room and speaks to the patient directly. She never does this with any of her regular patients. "I am ready to see you now, if you would like to come in?"
"Thank you very much," I notice Doctor Polichvich even holds the door open for him. "I hope this isn't too much of a bother for you. Martha already told me that you usually close at five."
"No problem at all," She winks at me. "My only problem is that the other two nurses need to leave at 5:00, so I will require Nurse Martha to assist me."
She winks at me behind his back, so he doesn't see. I distinctly notice her use of the title "Nurse." Obviously, she overheard our conversation. I don't know what to do.
"Go with Jonathan into Exam Two," Susan comes to my rescue. "Show him the room. I will join you in a minute, just as soon as I show Mrs. Alvery to the door."
I automatically get up. I still don't know what to do, but I know how to follow orders.
"This way," I walk past him to open the door to the second examination room. Normally, this is as far as I go. I lead patients to the room and then allow the nurses take over. But for this patient...
"She seems kind-of strict," Jonathan comments as I follow him inside. "Must be difficult to work for."
"Not really," I defend the doctor. "Actually, she's quite nice after you get to know her."
We talk for the few minutes it takes for Susan to finish up with Mrs. Alvery. She seems to be taking an abnormally long time, but I don't mind. I like talking to Jonathan. Besides, it gives me the opportunity to take the occasional glance at his crotch. It looks more swollen than most men, but it's hard to tell.
He sits down on the examination table. I remain standing and try to look busy by going through some of the overhead cabinets. I have no idea what I'm doing. I just try to make it look like I am a nurse doing a routine check to make sure everything is in its proper place.
"I'm a little nervous," He admits. "I don't know what to expect. I've never been to a woman doctor before."
"That shouldn't make any difference," I tell him, feeling a little nervous myself. "A doctor is a doctor."
"I know," He agrees. "I guess I'm just a little worried she might want to examine me and ask me to undress."
I hope she does, but I keep the thought to myself. "I assume she just wants to talk to you."
"That's what I figured," This seems to relieve him. "But then why did she ask you to join us?"
I turn to face him. "Actually," I decide to be honest. "That's a good question. I've been wondering the same thing myself."
Just then, Susan enters.
"I forgot to introduce myself earlier," She holds out her hand. "I'm Doctor Polichvich and I understand you are Jonathan Demetres."
They shake.
"I hope you don't mind if Nurse Martha joins us," She glances at me. "She's new and you are an usual case. I hope I can use this as a teaching opportunity."
"Not at all," Jonathan accepts. "I was just telling Martha that I'm a bit nervous. I think it might actually calm me down if she stays."
He smiles at me.
I try to smile back.
"Now there's absolutely nothing to be nervous about," Susan wheels out a short stool. She sits and wheels it over closer to him. "Now, I understand you want to enquire about penis reduction surgery."
"Does such a thing even exist?" He quickly asks.
"Of course," Susan answers. "You ever hear of sex change operations? They can make it shorter or even take it completely off if you want."
Jonathan laughs. "Oh no! I don't want to go that far!"
Susan laughs along with him. "I didn't think so, but I must warn you that the operation is very rare. And the more rare the operation, the more risk it entails. No operation is completely risk free, and there's always some danger."
Jonathan nods.
"And it is also expensive and only a few doctors are capable of performing such an operation," She goes on. "I can give you some names and references, but first I'd like to ask some question. I'd like to know exactly why you want this surgery? I mean most men would do most anything to get it lengthened."
"Lots of reasons," He quickly answers. "I suspect it's not much different than a woman blessed with big boobs. It's very desirable at first, but as I've gotten older..."
I notice him glance at me as he says this. I wonder if it is a random glance or if he notices my big chest. In either case, I know exactly what he means.
"Basically, let me just say that mine is a little too big," He goes on. "It's gotten me a lot of attention over the years. It certainly brings in big tips at the club, especially when you're the star attraction," He speaks proudly. "But I think I'm ready for something a little shorter."
"Exactly how short?"
"Well," Jonathan thinks. "The way I figure it, most women are accustomed to 6-inch cocks and they think 7 or 8inches is a lucky catch, so I figure 9 would be just about right."
Susan thinks about it too. "That's logical. What do you say Martha?"
I think my heart skips a beat at the sound of my name. So far I've been a passive observer; observing mostly his crotch. I realize Susan wants me to express my opinion. "Um, yea, I guess so," I answer shyly. I feel embarrassed at having to give my opinion on male cock size.
"And there's a second reason why I would like it shortened too," Jonathan rescues me but only temporarily. "This is a little more personal, but I want it for better sex."
"Better sex?" Susan sits up. "Why do you say that?"
"Because some women can't take 12-inches," He explains.
I think I gasp. Luckily he doesn't hear me or maybe he ignores me.
"Most women can, but it's difficult," He continues without a pause. "It's a tight fit and I always hit virgin territory, but most of them can take all of it just fine."
The mention of virgin territory sends a shiver up my spine.
"But the point is that some can't. Sometimes I'm too wide. I just can't open their cunts far enough to accommodate my size. And sometimes I hurt them because I go in too deep. Their twats just aren't deep enough. It usually happens to the short or the petite ones, you know, girls sort-of like Martha."
I gasp at the sound of my name, and then I gasp again at what he just said about girls like me. I realize my heart again races, just like it did back in my office when he first told me his size.
"Excuse my language," He apologizes. "Maybe I shouldn't use the words 'cunt' and 'twat'."
"That's perfectly all right," Susan accepts. "It's not exactly the correct medical terminology, but you are in a Doctor's office. Use whatever you are comfortable with."
He nods.
"So what you're saying," Susan summarizes. "Is that if you were suddenly given the opportunity, for example, to have sex with Martha right now, you may not be able because of your tremendous size."
"That's about right," He looks at me and nods again. "Her cunt might be too tight to penetrate or her twat too shallow for me to screw in my full length."
I step back to the wall in defense of myself.
"And what makes it especially frustrating," He continues. "...Is that I often find myself attracted to shorter girls. I would really like to get to know someone like Martha a lot better, but when you're unable to have sex it can be a little difficult on the relationship."
I am about ready to fall over and faint. A cold sweat hits me in the face. My heart races like I have just run a mile.
"Your reasoning sounds very logical," Susan stands up from her chair. "I can tell you've thought a lot about this."
"I have!" He agrees.
"Then let's go on to the second part of the examination," She nods. "It just so happens that I've had some training in this area back in medical school. Although I've never performed the operation and I am not qualified to do so, I would like to take a look for myself to make sure there aren't any redeeming features that might prevent you from having this operation. The nearest facility I am aware of is in Chicago, and I would hate to send you all the way to Chicago for nothing."
He nods. "Sounds reasonable."
"So if you don't mind getting undressed and giving your clothing to Martha," She smiles at me. "And Martha, if you could stay with Jonathan and get me when he is ready."
I stand in a complete state of shock. Did I hear her right? Am I imagining things? I feel as though I am in a dream. According to Susan, I am supposed to stay in the room while he undresses. I can't believe this is happening.
Before I can object, Susan leaves and Jonathan begins to undress. He starts with his shirt.
"You were right," He tells me. "She is very nice."
I realize he refers to Susan, but I quickly forget about Susan. He takes off his shirt and hands it to me. I am awestruck. The guy is a complete hunk. His chest looks hard as a rock. His arms are about as wide as my calves. He's got muscle all over. I picture him as one of those shirtless construction workers spending all day running a jackhammer.
My head tells me to leave. This doesn't seem right. I should not be in the room with a patient when he undresses, especially a male patient and especially considering I'm not even a nurse! But another part of me refuses to go. I know what part speaks loudest. I start to feel it in my cunt my tight cunt, if I am to believe Jonathan.
He removes his shoes and socks next, and then he starts unbuckling his pants. I accept each item after he removes it, first holding his shoes in my hands and then extending my arms so he can deposit his clothing like a worshipping subject to his queen.
"Where did you work before you worked here?" He attempts idle conversation.
"A dentist office," I can hardly speak as I watch his zipper lower and his slacks split in two.
"I didn't know that dentists hired nurses," He says in surprise. "I thought they used dental hygienists."
I remember my cover and the lie I told him about being a nurse. Well, actually, I never did lie to him at all at least not yet, but I'm about to. As he pulls down his pants and displays the sexiest set of black bikini briefs I have ever seen, I can't help it. The large bulge in the center of his briefs forces me.
"Most are, some not," I lie. "Some dentists like to keep at least one regular nurse in the office just in case something unusual..."
I can't speak. He uncovers it. It hangs down further than my last boyfriend's pointed up. The thing looks to be at least 8-inches long, and it's still flaccid! I am in dick heaven. I realize Jonathan didn't exaggerate. He's hung like a horse!
"That makes sense," He replies as though nothing is out of the ordinary. "I guess you never know when someone in the Dentist office might have an allergic reaction or a heart attack or something."
"...Or something," I speak drearily.
He places his black briefs on top of the rest of the clothing I hold in my hands.
I can't move. I stand in place, mesmerized. I look right at his equipment and am amazed. He's got the biggest dick I have ever seen, even better than in any magazine or xrated movie. He is long, uncircumcised; with a thick mushroom on the top. And the rest of his naked body is terrific too. He's the sexiest guy I've ever laid eyes on.
"You like it?" His question interrupts my thoughts.
"I'm sorry," I suddenly feel tremendously embarrassed. I shake my head and return back to reality. "Sorry, I didn't mean to look." I try to leave the room.
"That's okay," He smiles back at me. "Remember, I work in a strip joint. I'm used to women looking."
He smiles at me, and I suppose I smile back. I'm not sure. I'm not sure if I'm still alive! I take a deep breath and attempt to calm down.
"I suppose I better get Doctor Polichvich," I briefly turn to him and look again.
"Fine," He says simply. "I'll be waiting."
I clumsily open the door and leave, but at the last moment I take a last look at him as though to make a check on reality.

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Man with a 'tash

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Apropos nothing...

"Sex is like playing bridge – if you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand."
Attributed to Woody Allen, Charles Pierce, Mae West - and probably several others!

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