My heart thudded as I sat feet dangling over the edge of the examination table at the doctor's office I had been going to my whole life. It was, in fact, the same examination room that I could remember visiting when we found out I was allergic to shellfish when I was seven. Same building, same office, same exam room, but I was not waiting to see the same doctor.
Two weeks ago when I had come in for the annual check-up that my overly cautious mother forced me to go through every year, I had discovered that good-old-reliable Dr. Adams was in the midst of retiring and turning over his practice to an alarmingly hunky young Dr. Curtis. What should have been an annoying, but simple, routine check-up had taken a turn for the bizarre when said handsome young doctor made note of my well-below-normal sized penis during the "turn your head and cough" portion of the exam.
What followed was a surreal sales pitch for an apparently secret experimental new drug known only as the Little Red Pill, that Dr. Curtis assured me would result in a drastic change in penis size. I begrudgingly took the offered two week sample and agreed to come back for a follow-up, mostly just to get out of the awkward situation.
And now, here I was back two weeks later. As you probably know by now, the pills had definitely worked. But they seemed to have come with a few rather extreme side-effects. Mainly, an intense sexual desire for all things gay that I had never experienced before in my, until that point, completely heterosexual life. But as crazy as that may be, I had gone from an insecure mess with a less than 4 inch erection to a confident guy with a cock nearing the 8 inch mark and counting, and I was not ready to give it up.
No, my heart pounded as I worried that the wild ride might be over. So many questions fought for space in my head. My two week supply of magic pills was gone. Without them, did I stay at my newly gained size or did I shrink back to my mini-wiener? Did the crazy sex drive and cravings for dudes go away? Did I want them to? I needed answers, and I was about to see the only man who could give them to me. He just happened to be a gorgeous TV-star-looking doctor who I begrudgingly had to admit was super attractive even before I had started taking the pills that made me start wanting to rip off the clothes of every guy I saw. My stomach twisted in knots at the thought of what it was going to be like seeing and talking to the doctor again in my current condition. Not to mention the topics we would probably be discussing.
I had jerked off twice in a row that morning in preparation for the appointment in the hopes that I could keep my excitement in check. And yet still, as I sat there stuck in my own thoughts, I found myself having to suppress the stirring in my loins. I had to desperately try and avert my thoughts to something less sexy.
That about all went right out the window when there was a quick rap on the door and Dr. Curtis strode into the room, closing the door behind him. He had my charts open in his hand, but barely glanced down at them before closing the folder and tucking it under his arm as he crossed the room towards me sitting on the edge of the exam bench. He extended a hand and flashed a smile that he had to know was perfect and sexy.
"Mr. Warner, great to see you again!" I took his hand for a firm shake, having to silently tell myself to cool it between my legs already. "Thank you for coming back in for the follow-up, I really appreciate it."
"No problem," I somehow found my voice to respond seemingly nonchalantly.
Dr. Curtis grabbed a stool from the other side of the room and slid it half the distance towards me and the exam table before casually seating himself down onto it. His piercing baby blues hit me with intimate direct eye contact.
"So, last time you were here, you graciously agreed to participate in a classified research study on what the team I'm working with and I are calling the Little Red Pill."
I nodded, lamely.
"So hows that been going?"
I barked out a nervous laugh.
"Uhh, great, I guess you could say."
Curtis nodded, breaking the intimidating eye contact to reopen the folder on his lap and look down at its contents.
"So you're saying the pills appear to be working? That is, you've seen an increase in penis size?" The way he asked it, made it sound like the most perfectly normal thing to have happened.
"Erhm, I mean, yeah. Definitely."
"Good, good," He pulled a sleek looking pen out of the front pocket of his open white lab coat that he wore over stylish and rather form fitting dress clothes. "About how much would you say you've grown in length?"
I made a bit of a show of thinking about it, as if I hadn't been obsessively measuring for the past two weeks.
"Hmmmm, probably around 4 inches."
If that shocked Dr. Grant at all, he was pretty good at masking his surprise. He just nodded again and marked something on my charts in the folder with the fancy pen.
"That's great," he commented casually, finishing up whatever notation he was making. "And what about girth? Any growth in that regard?"
I knew what the word meant, but found myself shocked into needing clarification anyway.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"The measurement around the shaft of your penis. Your thickness, if you will. Any gain there?" He asked.
I was almost positive I was blushing by now.
"Oh... uhh yeah, I didn't really measure that, but it's definitely... girth-ier?" I tried, pretty sure I'd just made up an adjective.
The doctor flashed a brief smirk at the description, which made him look somehow hotter.
