I have to admit, the doctor's office was discreetly located down a back hall on a nondescript floor of an average professional building. When I entered the building I could have been coming for any range of medical problems, so my specific problem remained a deep secret.
The name on the directory board simply listed Doctor Magnum – Plastic Surgery and showed his room number as 506. So when I entered the glass elevator and pressed "five" no one knew I was going to see the most prominent cock doctor in the state.
As a plastic surgeon he did a lot more than just cocks, but his specialty was penile enlargement, so while he would definitely work on breast enhancements, breast reductions, face lifts and tummy tucks, it was the penile enhancement that made him his money. It was for this reason that I found myself stepping off the elevator on the fifth floor and wandering the maze of hallway to office 506.
I arrived early for the appointment so the pretty blond receptionist directed me to a comfortable couch and handed me a clipboard with a bunch of paperwork to fill out. I looked her over closely, as she walked seductively back to her desk, trying to figure out what work the doctor had completed on her. Though she was still young, perhaps just in her thirties, her breasts were large and still very firm. Looking at her face, she also seemed to have a perfectly proportioned nose and a cute little chin.
While I answered a few questions on the forms the receptionist had given me, I mentally filled out a checklist on her, checking off breast enhancement, nose job and chin work. Perhaps I was being harsh, perhaps her beauty was a natural thing, it's just that her looks simply seemed too good.
Of course I came to the doctor for a different reason than pure vanity, I came here to have him fix a genuine serious medical condition. It was a condition that first only affected my sex life, but soon it destroyed my self esteem and damn near ruined my life.
Finishing up the paperwork, I got up and then handed the completed set of forms to the receptionist. She instructed me to, "...go ahead and have a seat for a more few moments."
Walking away from her desk, I grabbed the closest seat and opened up a magazine, leafing through the pictures. After a few minutes the receptionist looked over at me and said, "The doctor will see you now."
A nurse met me at the door and, after recording my weight, directed me into "Exam Room Number Four." Once inside, I leapt up on a table and waited a bit more. The nurse came back in and took my blood pressure, my temperature and counted off my pulse rate. Once she finished she led me out of the exam room directly into the doctor's office.
"He doesn't want to examine me?"
"The doctor said he wanted to talk with you a bit before starting any medical investigation, sort of a history."
"Is this normal?"
"It happens a lot, sometimes he likes to discuss options prior to examination. You can sit there in that chair, he'll be here in just a moment."
I sat for several minutes looking over all the doctor's diplomas, certificates and recognitions, including photographs of him shaking the hands of several different Presidents. Yes, this man was the foremost in his field, if you believed everything on the walls and everything I had ever heard about him.
Looking down at his enormous desk, I was surprised how neat it was, with one or two sheets of paper stacked neatly in his in box, a few more in his out box and a file in the middle of his desk. The file read Sheik, Harold R., my file.
"Ah Mr. Sheik, I am sorry I kept you waiting. I hope it wasn't too long."
