My Urologist’s Proposal

At 68, retirement brought its own set of challenges, but I was determined to face them head-on. The regular visits to the urologist were a necessary evil, especially after my PSA levels became elevated. I’d been going every April and October for three years now, and while it wasn’t always a pleasant experience, it was a small price to pay for good health.

My last visit with the PA, Ms. Oh, was uneventful until the end, when she asked if I’d be interested in participating in a research study. As it turned out, I was a perfect candidate, and she explained that the study aimed to compare the effectiveness of prostate massage to medication in inducing erections.

“Would you be willing to participate?” she asked, her eyes locked on mine. “It’s a simple procedure. I’ll perform a prostate exam, and then continue the massage until you achieve an erection that’s adequate for intercourse. We’ll time both methods, and then I’ll stimulate your penis in the more traditional way to compare the results.” I nodded eagerly, excitement building inside me.

Ms. Oh was a stunning woman, with long black hair and curves that seemed to be molded from silk. Her scrubs did little to hide her assets, and I found myself getting hard just thinking about her. She was oriental, around 5’4″, with breasts that seemed to defy gravity, perched high on her chest like two ripe melons.

“I’ll need you to sign a few forms,” she said, her voice husky and confident. “And then we’ll get started.” I signed the papers, my heart racing with anticipation. It was 7:45 PM, and we were the last ones in the office. I felt a thrill of excitement as she prepared for our experiment.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. She asked me to assume the position over the exam table, and I dropped my pants, feeling a rush of cool air on my skin.

I felt her finger enter me, and she quickly found the right spot. It took about 90 seconds for me to get a noticeable reaction, and within three minutes, I was as hard as I typically got. She measured my length and girth, nodding in approval. “Not bad for 68,” she said with a smile.

To move on to the next step, I needed to relax. She told me to lay down, and then she left the room to wait. The lights were dimmed, and I felt a sense of calm wash over me. When she returned, I could sense a change in her demeanor. She seemed flustered, almost…human.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her voice husky again. I nodded, and she commenced to lube up and took my member in her hands. It took less than a minute for me to get hard, and I was determined to be sure I was fully aroused.

“That’s it, I’m full size,” I said, and she stopped to get the tape measure. She fumbled around for a moment, and I felt a rush of excitement. And then, in an instant, she was straddling my legs, sliding my dick inside her. I felt a jolt of surprise, but it was quickly replaced by desire.

“I am so horny doing this experiment,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I need you to cum with me.” With that, she took charge, slipping off her top and revealing those lovely breasts. I saw them shimmering in the dim light, and I just had to hold them.

She moved me in and out of her, and eventually bent over so I could suck her nipples. It was a moment of pure bliss, and I knew I was lost. And then, in an instant, she came hard, her muscles contracting around my dick. I joined her, feeling the tightness in my body as we both reached the climax.

It was a moment I would never forget, a moment that would stay with me for the rest of my life. And as we lay there, catching our breath, I knew that this was just the beginning of our experiment.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Russell,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I lost my professionalism.” I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction. “Ms. Oh, you did things I will always remember. Thank you.”

We laid there for a few more minutes, and then she got up to clean everything up. I felt a rush of relief, knowing that I was spent for the night. And as she dressed, she told me that we still hadn’t collected the sample. “Would you be available next week for a follow-up?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I nodded, knowing that I would do anything to be with her again.

“You pick a time and place,” I said, smiling. “I’ll be there.”