"Do you have any history of erectile dysfunction? Ever taken medication for it?"



The patient shook his head no to both, trying not to add any more expression to the response than that. The nurse was taking down his medical history as expected.



He sat a little uncomfortably in the exam room to which he'd been directed by the receptionist. It was the normal medical arrangement, a sink and cabinets on one side, the padded table with its disposable paper cover on the other. This room was provided with two chairs for consultation, occupied now by himself and the nurse.



"What about bloody stools?" she asked, moving to the next line of the form. "Or hemorrhoids, anything related?" Again he indicated the negative. There were a few other questions about general health, consumption of tobacco and alcohol and drugs, the familiar routine for a first visit to any clinic.



The nurse made a few last marks on the form and nodded to him. "All righty. You go ahead and undress, then wait for me by the table. I'll be right back, hmm?" She smiled to him, so confident and reassuring. As she rose he could not help admiring her, petite and pretty in the white uniform, white top with short sleeves, a knee-length skirt, opaque stockings and comfortable shoes. It struck him as a bit old-fashioned, the white-on-white; most offices had gone to scrubs.



Alone in the room, he rose and steadied himself, making an effort to set aside his nerves. Undressing in an office or any other strange room is always a bit unsettling, and there was that moment of uncertainty about where to put everything. He draped his trousers over the back of the chair, his shirt on that, shoes beneath and the rest on the seat. It seemed some part of him thought he'd get points for being neat about it.



Naked now, he went over to the padded table as he'd been told. But standing there waiting made him more nervous than before, and he started to wonder if he'd missed something in the instructions. There was a gown, wasn't there usually? Though so useless as to be a source of comedy, it gave a sense of being covered. He stepped over to the tallest of the cabinets and opened it, peering inside to see if there might be one waiting on a hanger.



The sound of the nurse returning gave him a guilty start. She peered in the door at him and smiled, "there's nothing you need in there." In her hands she held a pink plastic tray with a selection of tubes and jars, and a package of disposable gloves. "Over to the table," she said more firmly as she placed the tray nearby. He closed the cabinet door, having found nothing of interest inside, and walked over to the exam table, suddenly feeling his nakedness in the face of her clothed professionalism.



"If you could just stand right there," the nurse indicated the spot while she opened the gloves. "Feet apart, hands at your sides. Take easy breaths." There were the rubbery sounds of her pulling one glove and the other over her small, neat hands, a final snap that made him twitch and her smile. "I know you all hate that," she said confidentially, then leaned closer as she cupped his sac and felt his testicles. "Do you examine yourself? You need to check for lumps or anything odd." He'd heard the lecture before, he was in the right age group, but didn't speak; the firm press of her fingers there had him biting his lip as she examined him. A man can't help but feel judged at some fundamental level, at such a time.



"Everything is fine down here," she assured him as her gloved touch moved on to his penis. She held it in her palm, turned it this way and the other, checked his glans and the line just behind it where the skin changed from brown to pink. Her hand closed gently around his shaft and tugged upward as her other fingers pressed his lower belly, to one side and the other. When she felt him swelling in response she smiled again. "That's fine too," she told him, giving the half-erection a pat as she straightened up. "Now, could you lean over the table please. Stand right here at the end."



Obviously he knew that moment was coming, but he swallowed nervously even so. The nurse wasn't watching him; she made a few more marks on the form, then set the clipboard aside, next to the pink tray. Stalling now would make him look foolish, he knew, so he shuffled his bare feet to the end of the table. The paper rustled and the cushion sighed as he bent forward, leaning his weight on his forearms.



"Good," the nurse said as she looked up just then. Maybe it was staged, she'd just waited for him to move, but it was reassuring anyway. "Feet apart again, a little more." Her gloved palm touched his hip, urging him an inch closer to the table so that his hip bones felt the padded end. There was a void space beneath, so his penis and balls hung in empty, slightly cool air.



Her fingers opened him, touched and examined, a light stroke along the seam from his balls to his anus, a soft touch around the pucker. Then her hands were gone for a moment, while he heard the cap popped from a tube and the flatulent sound of gel squeezed out. "Don't clench," she warned as her hand returned, holding his cheeks apart while she smeared the gel over his anus. It was barely warmed from brief contact with her fingers and it made him flinch and clench anyway, but he relaxed a moment later. "Good," she told him again as she rubbed it around.



No instruction to turn his head and cough; she pushed her small fingertip through the opening, letting the slick gel counter his body's natural resistance. He tensed and held his breath, his hands rustling the paper of the exam table. Her finger turned, touching everywhere just a little inside him, continuing that intimate exam. Then out, to be replaced by something cool and a little pokey - the cone-shaped tip of the tube, he realized as she squeezed and sent a gush of that gel inside him. Now he did clench, and his breath came out through his teeth, but that didn't stop the oily surge. As the stuff warmed in his body heat the nurse patted his hip and tossed the emptied tube into the waste receptacle.



"Easy now," she told him as her hands returned to open and steady him. Her fingertip at his anus again, rubbing some of the excess gel around; then pushing in, but it was two fingers, pressed close together. "Easy," she said again as his muscles tightened around her, "slow breaths." Again she had no difficulty pushing past, her fingers ensconced in his warm grip.He felt the change of tension as her fingers separated, his knees trembling while she felt and probed inside him.



Then came the firm rub of her fingertips over his prostate, provoking a deep groan from him, making him shudder and lean more to the table. The sensation was similar to the verge of orgasm without the intermediate pleasure, and he noted in vague surprise how aroused he'd become. "That's good," she said to him as her fingers moved again, but before he could grow accustomed her hand slipped away with a wet noise of glove and gel.



The sharp snap of the gloves peeled off her hands confirmed this part of the treatment was over. "Stay put," she told him as she tossed the gloves in the waste receptacle, and then reclaimed her clipboard. Her pen scratched a few more marks, and she turned the page. He waited in silence, trying not to feel the wet and oily exposure of his backside as he leaned to the table.



"You signed the waiver," she noted, "and you chose not to have a sedative. Is that right?" Looking over to him, she gave the appearance of allowing him to change his mind, but her efficient manner did not invite any break in the momentum. When he nodded she checked a last box, and glanced at his naked form bent to the table, his legs apart.



"You'll want to put your hands up here," she explained, tapping her pen to the far end of the table. There at either corner, the padding incorporated two rounded knobs, soft projections meant to be easy for his hands to find and grip. "Just close your eyes, or look forward, that will help you relax." She glanced down between his legs, and he tried not to shift his weight to make his hardness sway. "Your erection is a natural response," she lectured clinically, "but it may detumesce during the procedure. That's natural too, and it doesn't mean anything personal about you. Okay?" Her confidential smile was back, reassuring while still professional. He nodded, then turned his face forward and rested his hands on the holds.



Walking over to the intercom set by the door, the nurse pushed a button with a sharp click, making it light up. Then she stepped around the table again, reaching over to pat his shoulder in passing. "It will be just a moment," she assured. Going to the counter, she turned her attention to the cabinets and sink. She had to stand on tip-toe to reach up for one shelf, and he admired the woman again while her back was turned, her petite form and efficient manner. He couldn't quite make out what she was doing, maybe shifting a few supplies from the top shelf to easy reach on the counter top. It gave him something to do while they waited, taking his mind off his nakedness and his position, his hard arousal and the odd half-finished feeling left from the prostate exam.



Then the door opened, and the nurse turned away from the busy work. "Are we all ready?" asked the man who entered, and she replied, "everyone but you," gently chiding with her brisk tone. He chuckled at that as he stepped over to the cabinets, giving the patient a moment to glance over at him - a tall figure with graying hair and tanned skin, wearing a white lab coat over suit trousers. The nurse stepped close to assist him, and noting the patient's regard she said firmly, "face forward," making him turn away his gaze obediently. He took a breath and resumed waiting.



He could hear the preparations - the lab coat hung up in the cabinet, then the belt buckle and the zipper, clothing rearranged. A squirt of more gel from a dispenser, the wet sound of it rubbed over skin, back and forth. The tall man holding still, then letting out a sighing breath. Another wet rub, and the nurse's voice, "all ready."



The two of them came over to the waiting patient, the nurse moving to his side, the man standing behind him at the end of the table. She tapped the pad above his head, drawing his focus forward once more, making him aware of his hands on the rounded knobs. "There will likely be an initial discomfort," she explained to him. "Keep your hands here, and try to relax." He nodded without turning his head, and swallowed once, then let out his breath.



"Everything looks great," the man said from behind, prompting a knowing smile from the nurse. "A little wider now," he said with a firm push on the inside of the patient's thigh; then his hand touched the dangling penis, half-aroused during the wait, giving it a firm squeeze. The patient's balls had tightened with nervousness, making a smaller package that barely moved as the man prodded with a finger. "All right," he said agreeably as he took hold of the patient's hips, spreading his cheeks again, exposing the gel that welled up in his anus.



He felt the man's strength, weight pressing him to the padded table, making the paper rustle between skin and vinyl. His eyes closed at the warm touch between his cheeks, bluntly seeking his anus. Then a hard shove, forcing the man's cock in and through, the burning stretch of his anus and rectum so abruptly invaded. His head jerked up, he let out a wounded cry that obscured the man's rough grunt, then another as a finishing shove seated the invading shaft far inside him.



"Easy," the nurse said, more stern than reassuring. The man drew back his hips and shoved in again, forcing the breath out of the patient in another sharp cry. "Easy there," the nurse coaxed more gently, her hand between his shoulder blades with a firm press. Another deep stroke, hard enough to jolt the patient into the table, making him grab tightly to the pad.



"Take a breath," she told him as the man started to move more smoothly, hips forward and back, his cock sliding in and out of that burning, violated passage. Two strong hands gripping his hips, pressing him to the edge of the table; one small hand on his back, moving up to the base of his neck. "Breathe it out," she coaxed, while the hard thrusts went on, matched to the man's grunts of effort.



"There, now you are doing better," the nurse approved. Her fingers stroked the nape of his neck, palm pressing down between his shoulders when he tried to move. The man drove in deep again and he winced and whimpered, so she patted him again. "Face forward," came the instruction at the slight turn of his head toward the comfort. "Can you lift up on your toes?" she asked, glancing down the table. "That will help." He tried, tensing his legs and ankles, pushing up with his feet to raise his hips.



The man's response was to move his grip up on the patient's waist and lean in more, driving his cock down into the offered ass. He groaned and panted, picking up the pace a little, smacking into the patient's hips and thighs, fucking him harder.



That thrusting cock hit the hidden spot inside the patient he gasped in shock, then closed his eyes tightly. "There," the nurse said knowingly, her fingers stroking his neck again. After a few more such strokes she told him, "I'm going to check down there. Mind your hands, okay?" He nodded without opening his eyes again, fingers gripping the pad to show his understanding.



There was no break in the hard, driving rhythm, the man's cock squelching now and then as he shoved into the tight, well-prepared passage. The nurse leaned down, her hand moving under the end of the table, feeling for the patient's penis. "That's normal," she told him as she felt how he had softened under the onslaught. She patted his thigh, careful not to let her hand get caught as the man drove in again.



She was back at his side, her hand resting between his shoulders while he gasped and whimpered, a tender sound matched to each deep thrust, each hard smack of colliding bodies. "Almost done," she assured after giving the man a knowing gaze. The patient could hear the rough sound of his breathing, feel the tension and urgency in quickened strokes and gripping fingers.



It all ached now, his backside was on fire, his muscles clenched no matter how he tried to manage his breathing. His penis twitched with pulses and drips, feeling like he had ejaculated but not orgasmed. His legs and ankles were tired, shoulders hunched from gripping the table, holding on through it all.



Then one more hard shove and the man let out a strangled cry that he seemed half-heartedly to suppress. His fingers dug into the patient's waist and the table groaned as he leaned in his weight. His embedded cock bucked and gushed, flooding the invaded passage with his cum, bringing raw spots to fiery attention. The nurse just nodded silently and patted again.



They were all quiet for a moment, instinctively waiting for the man to move first. He took a deep breath and sighed it out, then straightened up behind the patient. Regaining his balance, he pulled back, his cock emerging with a wet plop. His strong hand smacked the patient's hip in a gesture of good sportsmanship as he stepped back and turned toward the sink.



The nurse left to attend him, running water in the tap, using disposable wipes and towels to clean him. The patient relaxed against the table as much as he could, keeping his eyes closed. He knew he'd be told to face forward if he moved his head. There was a wet sensation behind his balls as something started to ooze out of his sore anus.



More sounds of clothing adjusted, the cabinet opened and closed, the lab coat buttoned. "Room seven will be next," the nurse told the man, and he nodded with some mutter of comment. The door opened and closed again as he left.



"You did fine," the nurse broke the sudden quiet to assure him. She had taken up the clipboard again, and made a few final notes; then she slipped another form out from under the papers on top. "I'm going to leave the pamphlet on after-care here with your clothes." Her soft footsteps carried her around the table as she did so, then back toward the door.



"Would you like me to send in your wife?"