Whenever I read erotic stories or letters in Penthouse, it seems like every guy has a 12-inch dick. Sometimes they're white, but most of the time they have to be black to be big. I've seen plenty of guys in the shower from almost every race and while everyone seems to come in different shapes and sizes, I think it is a rarity to be over 8-inches.
As I look back on it, the length of my cock wasn't the issue. I've got an average six-incher. But I did stand out. Every since I started seeing other boys growing up, I knew I was different. My parents were kind enough not to ever make a big deal of it, especially my mother, but the sac that holds my balls has always been very large and saggy. It was embarrassing as a grade-schooler, but I was able to hide it pretty easily. My mother had taken me to the doctor when I was in the Second Grade and he had diagnosed me with some sort of malady, but he thought I might grow out of it. I never commented on it again to my mom, so I'm sure she thought it was a non-issue. The problems began in high school with gym class.
I went to the type of school that combined kids in all grades for PE. As a freshman, it was very intimidating. I would describe myself as lanky and at that time I was probably 5'-10" and 130lbs. We also had the type of showers where several posts ran straight up out of the floor with five or six showerheads around the top of them. At that time, my sac was already hanging down a good six inches. My balls were always down low at the bottom and never rose up and in like they're supposed to when it's cold or for protection. This gave the affect of a huge amount of shriveled looking skin between my dick and balls. I can remember that first day in gym class over four years ago.
"Holy shit! Hey guys, get a load of this freshman and his freaky balls," one Senior said.
I quickly wrapped a towel around myself, but within minutes I was surrounded by a number of upper classmen who started rat tailing me until I gave up and dropped it.
"Spread your legs freshman or I'll sting you in the ass with a wet one!" One muscle bound upper classman said.
I complied and felt my face heating up as my balls dangled half a foot down between my legs.
"Damn... too bad you don't have a big cock to go with it," one guy said.
"Looks like a fuckin' rooster," some farm boy said while pulling up his overalls.
And that's where I got the nickname. From then on I was "the rooster," to every guy in school. I guess after the red shit that hangs off their beak. It became really embarrassing and increased my insecurities when girls would ask me why I was called "rooster." I just told them it was because I liked to get up early.
By the time I was a Senior, I had grown a little more, standing about 6'-2". But, my sac had grown with me and was now hanging down a full eight inches. That's not a load of bull and if you want to see what a pain it is, get a ruler and measure down eight inches from the base of your dick. Things I had to adjust to included buying extra baggy pants to fit the huge lump and never being able to fully sit down on a toilet without my balls hanging into the water. Ever since my Sophomore year, I've had to squat over a toilet to take a dump. About the only positive thing I could think of about that was that I've built up some good thigh muscles.
Enough of the background about my "condition." What I wanted to write about was my Freshman year in college. I've always been very shy and my situation didn't help me much with the guys as I was always made fun of. This led to me never really dating a girl throughout my high school years. Not that I didn't want to, I just could never get over the possibility of being rejected by females as well. This led to a lot of fantasizing on my part and a lot of masturbation to relieve the frustration. I did finally have a date for the Senior Prom, but I didn't score like I heard you were supposed to. Looking back on it, the girl would have had to rape me for me to lose my virginity that night, I was so nervous.
I'm sure this is what led to the bizarre circumstances that occurred to me that first year in college. As I review it in my mind, I've been able to piece things together pretty well. Now it seems like there was no way someone could be so naïve, but believe me, if you were in my situation, I'm sure you would have acted the same way.
It began during the first week of orientation when I found out I had to have a "full physical," before classes began. My roommate, Doug, was a pretty nice guy from Texas, who had a funny accent, but seemed okay otherwise.
"I can't believe we have to get a physical," I told Doug.
"Ahh... that's no big deal. I had one before going to a military boot camp one summer. Just the typically stuff where they squeeze your balls and have you cough and then stick a finger up your ass!" He laughed in a jovial sarcastic sort of way.
"Where do you have to go for yours?" I asked.
"Merrill Hall, Medical Wing," he said, "how ‘bout you?"
"Mmm... my card says "Avon Hall, Medical Overflow," I replied.
"Hey, that's over by the sorority houses," Doug lit up, "get us both a phone number while you're over there."
I remember that we both laughed, but I should have suspected something from the start.
* * *
The door at Avon Hall had a white sign with a red cross on it. I assumed it was the right place and opened it up and went in. Everything seemed pretty normal for a physician's office... several waiting room chairs, magazines, cheap plastic plants. A sliding window in the wall in front of me opened and a woman in a white blouse and skirt called me over and handed me a clipboard with some forms to fill out.
"Fill in all the empty lines and sign it at the bottom," she said.
I noticed that she didn't seem to be much older than myself and wondered if she attended the college. I filled out all the basic stuff and quickly signed the bottom and handed it back to her.
"The nurse practitioner will be with you in just a moment," she smiled.
I barely had a chance to get into an old Golf Digest article, when the door opened up.
"Ken Howard?" A cute brunette asked.
"Yes?"
"Come with me please."
I followed the slim hipped nurse through the door and starred at her fine butt swaying back and forth as I followed her down the hall. She opened a door on our right and motioned me through.
"Please undress to your underwear. I'll be back to take our vitals in just a minute," she said in a very professional tone.
I quickly disrobed, folding my things neatly and setting them in the chair. I was glad I had worn boxers. It was pretty much like wearing shorts. I sat down on the cushioned table and waited. In a few minutes the nurse was back.
"Good," she said, "why don't you step up over here on the scale."
I was a little embarrassed standing up in my boxers in front of a girl that couldn't be much older than myself. Her dark brown hair was about shoulder length and flared up at the ends. I found myself focusing on her moist red lips and sweet, flowery perfume. She finished weighing me then had me sit down to check my blood pressure.
The way she touched my arm and shoulder as she slid on the cuff and put the stethoscope on my arm caused my dick to start hardening.
‘No,' I commanded myself, ‘not now!'
But I couldn't help myself. I kept focusing in on her big, brown eyes and glossy lips. Then her soft breast pressed into my arm, causing me erection to press tightly against my boxers. I don't think I had ever been so rigid before.
She finished up with my vitals, and then I could have sworn I saw a slight grin on her face as she said, "now stand up on the scale, so we can get your weight."
"Oh, uhh... I'm 160 pounds," I said.
She didn't flinch, "we need to make sure it's accurate, please step up on the scale."
I got up as casually as possible and pressed one of my hands against my groin to keep my erection pressed against me. When I got up on the scale she said, "hands at your side please for an accurate reading."
