Paul loved his wife, Phoebe. He loved her quick wit and high intelligence. He loved her bright brown eyes. He loved her long, brown hair and her athletic body. He loved the way she kept herself nice for him. He loved her easy smile and her southern drawl. And best of all, Phoebe loved to fuck, and wanted her pussy filled every night Paul was home. So why was he sitting here in his doctor's waiting room, staring blankly at a two month old Time magazine, and daydreaming about Phoebe? Dr. Lorrie Pritchard was his urologist and he was here for his annual exam. Or, at least that's what he told himself. But he was here for another reason, and it had much to do with his love for Phoebe.
Dr. Pritchard entered the exam room where Paul waited wearing only a cotton, patient's robe. "Good morning, Paul. Is this just a check of the equipment, or is there a problem?" Dr. Lorrie was older than Paul, a tall woman in her forties, slim, with hazel eyes and auburn hair, which she wore in a ponytail. He fantasized about fucking her, but knew it would never happen.
"Well, I don't have a physical problem, but there's something I want to ask you about."
"Okay, you can ask while I'm examining you."
He lay on his back on the exam table. The doctor donned latex gloves and raised his robe to examine him. She lifted his scrotal sack to check his testicles. After feeling for lumps, she carefully pinched along his epididymides, feeling for abnormalities. Satisfied that all was well in his scrotum, she moved on to his penis. She massaged the shaft and retracted his foreskin to make sure his glans was healthy. "Everything is perfectly normal, so what's your concern?"
"It's my wife, Phoebe. I don't know quite how to put this. It's just that, well... I don't think I'm giving her enough satisfaction sexually. I'm thinking about getting circumcised and having my penis enlarged. I wanted to ask you how much bigger an operation would make me." She had him roll on his side and didn't answer right away. After liberally lubing her right index finger, she inserted it up his anus to check his prostate. Her exploring finger hardened his penis to a full erection.
"Your prostate feels healthy. Since you've become fully tumescent, let's check the size of your erection." Dr. Lorrie measured along the top of his penis, then measured its width and circumference. "You're six inches long, an inch and three quarters wide, and four and a half inches around. Your penis is perfectly normal, Paul. It's easily large enough for full, pleasurable coitus. My husband's is smaller than yours and our copulation is quite fulfilling. You should have no trouble fully penetrating your wife unless she has an unusually large vagina. Is that the problem?"
"No, she's nice and snug... but still...I just get the feeling she needs more..."
"Very well, then. First of all, circumcision won't change anything except your appearance. You might gain an extra inch in length and maybe an additional half inch in girth from a penile enlargement. The operation involves severing a ligament in your groin and injecting some of your pubic fat into the shaft of your penis. The downside is that your erection will not stand up as high as it does now. Frankly, I don't think it's worth it, but if you decide to do it, I'll refer you to someone competent. There are a lot of butchers out there making a nice living off of men's ego problems."
As he walked to his car, he mulled over what Dr. Pritchard had told him. She was right of course. It was a bad idea, but still he wondered if he could give Phoebe more pleasure if he had a bigger dick.
***
Every Saturday afternoon, Paul played racquetball with his life long friend and family attorney, Taylor Tomlinson. They were equal players and each beat the other about half the time. With their game over, they showered before getting dressed and going out for beers. Taylor shampooed his hair with his eyes closed to keep out the soap. Paul checked out his friend's groin. Taylor's dick was clipped and looked to be about five inches long at rest. His was two inches shorter when limp, and not as thick as his friend's. Taylor was also hung with big, heavy balls, swollen with sperm, and swinging far down between his thighs. This gave him an idea, if he could just think of a way to explain it to Taylor.
As they sat in a booth quaffing their beers, Taylor asked, "What's up with you, old buddy? I've known you a long time, and I can tell something's bothering you."
"It's Phoebe," Paul answered.
"What, trouble in paradise?" Taylor hoped it was nothing serious. Phoebe was a gorgeous woman and he hoped he'd never have to handle a divorce for his lucky friend.