I couldn't believe the size of Randall's cock. Laying on my back in the exam chair of my doctor's office, I looked at him wearing only a white lab coat, open in front, and displaying a magnificent long thick dick. My husband sat in a chair off to the side while my doctor prepared me for Semen Placement Therapy (SPT).
Randall's cock was at least twice the length of my husband's dick, and much thicker. The volume of his penis must have been many times more than my husband's. Randall's cock was fully erect, and as I stared at it I thought about how my husband struggles to get an erection.
Let me tell you how this all began.
Last year, my husband retired, and we relocated to an area of the country with many other retirees. In the process, we had to find new doctors. I had just passed through menopause and was enjoying the freedom of less maintenance "down there." During my first visit to my new gynecologist, he asked me to consider a new procedure for post-menopausal women.
As Dr. Gooding explained, studies suggested that there was a way to avoid future female health problems using specially prepared live semen. There were two conditions for effective treatment. One was that the semen donor had to agree to a regimen of diet and drugs that would produce the remedial semen. The other condition was that the semen should be fresh, not collected earlier and stored, and that it needs to be deposited by direct contact with the cervix.
This meant that only males who agreed to the required necessary preparation could produce the semen, and it meant that the male making the deposit must have a penis that could reach the cervix.
With only the doctor's nurse, Glory, in the room, I began to undress for my first exam by Dr. Gooding. Soon, I was naked from the waist down and in the stirrups. The doctor came in and began a routine businesslike exam. His gloved fingers touched my pussy, then I felt his speculum glide into me.
I heard him say, "Humm, twenty centimeters." And his Glory made a note of that.
I asked what he meant, and the doctor said that if I chose the SPT, I would require a donor with a twenty centimeter penis to reach my cervix, and twenty centimeters was about eight inches. "Could your husband do it?" he asked.
I had to smile, and thought to myself, "Rex? Ha!" I answered the doctor, "Only in his dreams. No sir, he could not."
"Well," said Dr. Gooding, "Everything looks healthy and quite good for your age, if you don't mind my saying."
I blushed, "Well, no, that's okay," I said as the doctor sat between my spread legs, looking at my pussy and complimenting it. His nurse looked on as he gave my pussy a little pat.
He pulled off his gloves and stood, "You can get dressed now. I'll review your history from your prior doctor and send you my exam report and recommendations. I would definitely recommend SPT because you are at the perfect age for it. If you wait much longer, it won't have the desired results."
I was confused, and said, "But doctor, if it requires long term preparation and a donor with the length it takes for proper placement, then my husband can't do it."
"Yes," he said, "We can talk more about that. It must be an eligible donor who has been preparing for this service for at least six months of diet and meds and who, of course, has an adequate penis to deliver the smear. Truthfully, few of my patients' husbands can do it. We can provide a surrogate."
I was dumbfounded at the thought of letting a man with such a large penis do this to me, but also I was a bit aroused at the thought.
The doctor said, "Perhaps you met Randall as you came in this afternoon. He's our front desk scheduler and greeter."
"I did met a young man in waiting room," I said, remembering the good looking smiling young man at the front desk.
Dr. Gooding said, "Randall can do this. He is prepared, and I know he would be more than suitable. He's helped others, and so far we've had only positive responses and no complications."
The doctor and nurse Glory watched me as I dressed. He watched me pull up my panties, knowing that I was probably thinking about Randall giving me this treatment.
Before leaving, Dr. Gooding gave me a brochure with more information about SPT and a consent form to be signed by me and my husband. As I left, Randall opened the door for me and said, "We're grateful you chose us for your care," he said politely. I smiled, I think, but all I could think about was his cock giving me the treatment.
At home, I wondered whether or not to mention this to Rex. But fate took a hand. He found the brochure on the table and read it and the consent form. Without comprehending what would be involved, my husband said, "If your doctor thinks the treatment will improve your health prospects, you should probably have it done."
"But Rex," I said, "There's more to it. It's not a simple process."
"Oh," he asked? "How so?"
Then I told him, cautiously, about requirements one and two. His jaw dropped open, "Oh my," was all he could say.
Just then our phone rang, and it was Dr. Gooding asking if I was considering SPT. He was scheduling other patients and wanted to know if he should reserve a day for my treatment. I told him that my husband and I were thinking it over.
"Well, in that case," he said, "Why not come to my office and let me explain it to him and you again? How's tomorrow afternoon?"
