My Sister's Friend Dr. Laura

My sister and I are in our forties. So are all our friends. Due to insurance problems, my primary care doctor was no longer available in the network. I needed a new doctor.

My sister has a friend named Laura. On the job she is known as Dr. Laura, but socially she just drops the "doctor" label. She's closer to my sister than she is to me, but yeah, I know her.

She's about 5''4" with wavy hair that is mostly gray; very little of the original brunette remains. She has no neck, big shoulders, and there's about 260 pounds of her at any given time. Cute face, but the rest of the package means she's been single a long time.

My sister got the bright idea that Dr. Laura would be a perfect solution to both our problems: I need a doctor, she needs patients.

I was against the idea because we know each other socially. Dr. Laura told me that she is very ethical and patient confidentiality is a big deal to her. That's good, because I wouldn't want her sharing with my sister. We ain't *that* close.

To make it easier for me, Dr. Laura said I don't ever need an appointment. Just show up and tell the desk person that I'm expected.

About a week later, I show up. I tell the lady at the desk that I'm there to see Dr. Laura. She's says she will try to work me in to the schedule. I look around the waiting area. I'm the only one there.

She makes me wait.

Eventually, I'm given eight pages of forms to fill out. Then it's to the back for the preliminaries: height, weight, blood pressure, and pulse rate.

I didn't have to wait long, Dr. Laura came out and called me to the back. She was in a good mood and kind of chipper. She went on and on about how happy she was that I gave her a try.

We go to an exam room and she asks me a few medical history questions. Then she asks why I'm there.

I explain that I have chronic prostate issues and I'm pretty sure I have another bout of prostatitis going. My old doctor would just give me antibiotics and eventually it clears up. I was hoping to avoid a prostate exam. I hate those things. Besides the embarrassment, they are painful for me.

After using a stethoscope on me for heart and lungs, she grabs a gown and hands it to me.

"Take off everything except your socks," she said. "I'll step out for a moment so you can change."

Well, damn. I wanted to avoid that, but halfway expected it.

She knocked on the door and came in before I could answer.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked. "Couldn't we just do antibiotics and..."

"Nope. It's your first visit, so I would have probably wanted to do a baseline exam of you to start with. Just relax, it'll be over before ya know it."

She washed her hands and grabbed some blue nitrile gloves. I started to turn around and she said, "Whoa, there! I gotta check out the front first. That's usually how this goes."

"Can we skip that?"

"Come on, work with me here," she said.

Reluctantly, I eased up the gown for her. She was sitting on a rolling stool right in front of me.

I was 0% erect and actually kind of shriveled. She didn't smile, laugh, or even grin, she was all business. But as she started, the old boy reacted and I was flying the flag at half mast.

"Uh, sorry about that," I offered up lamely.

She looked up and smiled at me. "Don't worry about it. Maybe it likes me. Maybe it's just trying to be friendly."

Yeah, well, it wasn't long before I was fully erect and throbbing. That's when she says, "Now it's a little too friendly. Turn around and I'll check your prostate."

She handed me a specimen bottle. "Put this over your penis. If you have an 'accident' we can catch it in there and I'll submit it to the lab."

She approached the exam from the side, not directly from behind. She said that was to avoid any blasts of gas hitting directly in the face. Makes sense. I've seen other doctors do the same thing.

That exam hurt. I know she was using her gloved fingers, but I'd swear she was using a broom handle. It hurt like hell.

"Your prostate feels boggy. I don't feel any lumps or nodules."

My erection had faded considerably, which she noticed.

After a little more of that prodding, I blurted out, "Uh oh."

I had a totally involuntary orgasm. I unloaded a lot into that specimen bottle. With her positioning, she saw it all happen.

"Here, give me that when you're done," she said. "I want to send it to the lab." She handed me some tissues.

"How long has it been since you cum... I mean, since you ejaculated last?" she asked.

"Three... Maybe four months, I guess."

"Okay, I see what the problem is. On top of the infection, you're backed up. All that junk just sitting in there gives that infection a place to fester. You need to take the antibiotics I'm prescribing for you just like it says on the label. And, you gotta flush out all that old semen in there and start fresh. That's the only way you're gonna beat this. Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

"No."

"Then you're gonna have to take care of this problem the old fashioned way. I want you to cum... I mean, ejaculate, at least once a day every day until it's all flushed out. More than once a day if you can. When all you get is clear fluid, you'll know you're completely flushed out. Come back and see me in three weeks."

She jumped up and left the room. I dressed and the front desk made arrangements for the prescription to be phoned in to the local Walmart pharmacy.

Three weeks later, I go back. She examines me again, front and back, and says I seem to be doing okay. She was writing notes and asked me, "How big are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your size. Erect, that is. Four inches?"

"No, it's bigger than that."

She smiled at me. "Come on, I've seen it. It's four inches, right?"

"No, I think it's five. Just guessing, though."

"Are you really gonna make me measure it?" Then she dug through her desk and fished out an old ruler.

"I'm gonna turn my back on you. I need you to get as hard as you can, then let me know so I can get an accurate measurement."

With her right there, it didn't take long for me to get hard and I said, I'm ready."

She turned around and measured my penis. "Four... and three-quarters of an inch." She looked at me. "Was it really worth all that hassle just to get credit for that three-quarters of an inch?"

She seemed pissed off, definitely not amused.

"I think so."

"Whatever."

I asked her why she needed to know.

"Because there is a prostate medication I want to prescribe for you that can sometimes, I emphasize 'sometimes," cause penile shrinkage. This way I know where we're starting out." Then she said, "You can't afford any shrinkage."

She put in the prescription and then left. I didn't pick it up at the pharmacy. Nope, thanks anyway.

My insurance changed again and she was no longer in my network. I didn't go back. Didn't see her again until my sister's New Year's Eve party. There were about twelve people there and we spoke, but that's about it.

Around midnight, I was in the kitchen and Dr. Laura comes in. She was drunk. Not tipsy, not lit, not cruising, she was blitzed hard. She walks up to me and grabs my crotch and goes, "How's mister four-and-three-quarters?"

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"I'm hoping to hook up with mister-ten-and-a-half out there, but I don't think I got a chance in hell."

Not long after that, there was nobody left but me, my sister, and Dr. Laura. My sister went to her room and Dr. Laura went to the guest bedroom. I got the couch. I tried to sleep, but the light from Dr. Laura's room was bugging me. I went to the door to ask her to either turn off the light or close the door. Oh, what I saw...

She had turned on the lamp and turned down the bed. She had taken off all her clothes and passed out naked on the floor. She was snoring like crazy.

I looked her over. She had the biggest, thickest, pink nipples I've ever seen. And between her legs it looked like she had more hair than she had on her damn head. She had hairy pits, too. Uggg.

I scooped her up and placed her gently on the bed. She rolled over and I saw an ass bigger than Texas. I covered it all up and turned off the lamp. Absolutely no shenanigans whatsoever on my part. Then I went to the couch and dozed off immediately.

Next morning, my sister was hung over really bad. I was rustling up some breakfast for us when Dr. Laura came stumbling out. I offered her breakfast and she gagged. "No, thanks, I'm headed for home. I must've been drunker than I thought last night. I remember getting undressed, but I don't remember climbing into bed or even turning off the lamp."

I was tempted to say something, but decided it was better to keep quiet.

After she left, my sister asked me, "Hey, would you like me to fix you up with Laura? I know she was your doctor for a short while, but..."

"Uh, no thanks," I said.