I arrived at Dr. Kim's office about ten minutes before our scheduled appointment. I hated being late; my parents had always harped on the importance of valuing other people's time. I had been coming to this medical building my entire life. Even though I was now eighteen and about to finish high school, I continued to see my pediatrician. I figured that this would likely be our last visit, because I was moving away for college soon.
The waiting room was pretty nondescript. I was sitting in one of the ten well-worn burgundy chairs placed against the three walls facing the reception desk. I had already checked in and was working on the forms I had been given. 'What is your primary reason for today's visit?' was the question that gave me pause. I wondered if 'I noticed a lump on my ball the last time I was jerking off' was too candid. I ended up going with something a little less colorful.
"Eriksson. Holden Eriksson," a voice called from the door.
I looked up from my phone to see a middle-aged nurse with a plain-looking face. She feigned a smile as I made my way across the room. I was nonplussed due to the fact that she was not the nurse I'd grown accustomed to seeing; a brunette named Melody had been Dr. Kim's assistant for at least the past five years.
I followed this new nurse through the corridor leading back towards the exam rooms. She stopped when we approached a scale in an alcove.
"I'm going to need to update your weight in the chart before you meet with the doctor," she said. "Can you please hop on the scale for me?"
I did as she instructed and stepped onto the scale. I wondered if I should take off the light jacket that I was wearing, but I figured that it didn't actually matter; she would have said something.
"Two-hundred pounds," she said. "It looks like you've put on a little weight since your last visit."
"I've been spending more time at the gym lifting weights. I'm trying to keep in shape since I'm going to be playing football at college."
She didn't seem very interested; she started writing a note in my chart. Most people got excited when I mentioned college or football, but she seemed wrapped up in her own world.
"Is your height still six-foot-two?" she asked.
"Six-three now," I replied.
"It's that room right over there," she said with a curt gesture.
I walked into the small room. It wasn't Dr. Kim's usual exam room. It was clearly decorated for adults, as evidenced by a poster discussing the risk of heart disease. Dr. Kim's exam room was more youth-oriented; it had a poster of some puppies wearing stethoscopes on the wall near the doorway.
I heard the nurse rummaging in a cupboard behind me. When I turned around, she handed me a flimsy, sky-blue medical gown. It was the kind that has those awkward ties behind the back.
"Take off all your clothes and put on this robe," she instructed. "Then have a seat on the exam table. The doctor will be in shortly."
The nurse quickly exited the room; the door almost slammed as she shut it. I walked towards the corner of the room where there was a body-length mirror. Next to it stood a small table that I thought I would use to hold my clothes.
I stared at my reflection for a moment before I started to disrobe. I still had trouble believing that I had gone from being a pint-sized nerd to a guy that all the girls wanted to be with in just two years. I tussled my sandy-blond hair; my emerald eyes seemed a little duller than usual because of the artificial lighting. I smiled, which caused my dimples to deepen; my lips parted to show my near-perfect, dazzling white teeth. I was glad that the years of braces had ended up being worth all the teasing.
Even though it might be hard to believe, I wasn't feeling nervous about the appointment. I had made the fundamental error of trying to talk with my dad. I only wanted to ask if he had ever gotten a pimple on his nuts. He freaked out and demanded I come in for a visit. I knew that it was probably one of a million other things and not cancer, but my dad had been increasingly anxious about health issues since my uncle died after a heart attach a few years earlier.
I removed my jacket and draped it on the table. I kicked off my sneakers with ease, since the laces were loosely tied. I doffed my tight-fitting black T-shirt and pushed down the dark gray sweatpants I had been wearing. I swiftly folded both and tossed them on top of my jacket.
My muscular frame filled the entirety of the mirror. My ab muscles appeared defined beneath my smooth, pale skin. I was not a naturally hairy guy, but I liked it that way. I flexed my biceps for a moment, letting myself feel proud about the work I had put into both building and sculpting them.
I pushed my navy-blue boxers down to my ankles before stepping out of them. My cock was hanging limply between my legs. I had learned from group showers with my teammates that I didn't have anything to be ashamed of in that department. It was about five inches soft, but grew to a little over eight inches when erect.
Everyone measures -- everyone.
My dick looked a little bit bigger to me; I had recently shaved my pubic hair off for the first time. I had been wanting to try something different, and I felt like I had been seeing a trend in porn where none of the guys had any pubic hair.
I stuffed my boxers inside of the folded sweatpants. It felt weird standing naked in the unfamiliar exam room - or almost naked, I supposed, since I still had my socks on. I grabbed the medical gown and tried to pull it on. I realized it was too small almost immediately. I struggled to pull it over my broad shoulders, and, once I managed that, I discovered that the hem only went down to the middle of my thighs. Worse still, the rear left a solid six inches of my back exposed. I knew that there was no way I was getting it to close.
I heard a loud knocking at the door. I spun around on my heels, feeling startled. I instinctively placed both of my hands at the hem of the gown, trying to keep it from riding up my muscular thighs. The door slowly opened, and someone entered holding a chart in front of their face. The person shut the door and placed the manila folder in a receptacle mounted on the wall.
"Hey, Holden," the doctor said. "It's great to see you!"
"Dr. Thompson?"
"Didn't Nurse Sarah tell you? Dr. Kim's daughter went into labor earlier today so I offered to cover for him. This must feel weird, huh? I mean, we just saw each other two nights ago. I promise I won't start subbing at your school next."
I had known Dr. Thompson for about ten years. He was my best friend Jimmy's father. I would join their family for dinner at least once a week, and I would go with Dr. Thompson and Jimmy for their annual camping trip every Memorial Day weekend.
Dr. Thompson was in his early forties. I knew that he and Mrs. Thompson had gotten pregnant with Jimmy right when Dr. Thompson had started medical school. They would sometimes tell stories about how hard it had been being a young couple trying to raise a child with only student loans to keep them afloat.
I felt my heart flutter once it fully hit me that I would be seeing Dr. Thompson today instead of Dr. Kim. I felt a sense of comfort with Dr. Kim; he was a sweet man in his mid-sixties who always talked about his grandkids. I didn't feel at ease with Dr. Thompson in spite of having known him for the past decade.
