I grew up having a female doctor and never really thought twice of it...even the one time I went to her as a sexually-active adult with some STI concern. She handed me one of those giant q-tip things and said, "You stick this in there, I don't have to do it." So I had to swab inside my slit and I tell you what, it stung!
Years later, I developed a strange pain that I'd get as I was nearing orgasm. It was a curious mix of dull-ache and burning...and only in my right testicle. I explored it a bit over about 2 weeks and discovered that as I got aroused and closer to ejaculation, one of the tubes from my right testicle would get all kinked up, hard and swollen. I don't usually visit doctors anymore, but figured this was certainly worth checking into.
My doctor (female, above) had retired some years ago. I had the choice of seeing a new female doctor or male one. I asked for a male doctor this time. I figured if I had to start talking about the pain in connection with arousal and orgasm, I might feel too embarrassed with a woman.
So, I get in there, and the doctor comes in, closes the door, etc. We talk about the problem and I discover that his command of English isn't as great as I would have liked. (He's an Asian-American doctor with a large Asian-American clientèle.) So I'm trying to explain to him very clearly what I was experiencing and what I have felt. (I even took one of my shoelaces and wound it up to show him what I thought was happening with the testicular tube in question.)
He had me pull my pants and boxers down, but lie down on the table. As I slid them down, he turned around and got the plastic gloves, etc. When he turned back, there was a very slight lift of the eyebrows when he looked at my crotch.
I reclined on the table and he had me spread my legs a bit so my balls hung down naturally. With one hand he lifted my penis out of the way and laid it on my stomach. His other hand cupped my nuts and started feeling them one at a time, checking for bumps, etc., I guessed.
At this point, I was trying desperately to think of non-sexual things: baseball, laundry detergent, the History Channel, etc. No luck. I could feel the blood starting to move into my shaft as he continued to palpate.
Then he had me stand up. No shit, I had to stand on the little footstool at the end of the table while he sat on his small swivel chair and continued his investigation of my gonads. By this time I was sporting a semi and wasn't sure whether I should reach down and pull it out of the way, or what. He actually answered that unspoken question for me by saying, "Would you mind holding that out of the way?"
I very quickly grabbed my dick and held it up as he continued to roll my nuts around.
"I don't feel anything different," he said.
"Well, that's because I'm not close to climaxing. That's when it happens..."
"Hmm. Okay." He turned around and threw the gloves away. When he turned back, I was still standing there, but had let go of my dick, which had lost a little life, but was certainly hanging well. He took a last good look at it -- no covering up his attention -- and then said, "You can pull your pants up now."
I did so. And he suggested it sounded like a mild infection. He had me do a urine test to determine any STIs, of which there wasn't one. All the same, he gave me one of the weaker antibiotics and told me to come back and see him again if it didn't clear up in 2 weeks.
Well...it did.
But 2 weeks later was back again. And, therefore, so was I.
The second visit was less shocking to me than the first. After all, this guy had already felt me up and gotten a very frank appraisal of my goods. This time around I didn't have to lie down. He just wanted me standing. So, again, I dropped the jeans and boxers and stood there while he felt around. Also, this time I knew to hold my dick out of his way, so I did so automatically.
While he was fiddling with my nuggets, he again said, "I don't feel anything strange. You should come in when it's happening. When it's hurting."
I looked down at him slightly incredulous. "Well, it only happens when I'm close to orgasming, remember. So, unless you want me to masturbate, that's a difficult thing..." (Yes, I really said that; in hindsight I can't believe my own brashness.)
He shrugged and stifled a chuckle, which I appreciated, since it broke the awkwardness of the moment. He dropped his hands and sat back. I let go of my dick which flopped on down. I can get a good 6" flaccid, and I was there...plus getting a little more blood. "How often do you masturbate?" He asked, still looking at me, eyes moving from my face to my naked crotch and back again.
"Oh, probably everyday," I answered. I was slightly embarrassed at that. My dick stirred a bit more and I was anxious to cover myself up.
He took one last look at my manhood. That kind of undivided, frank attention felt disarming to me. "Maybe you could not masturbate so often. Try waiting a few days between," he said. He nodded toward my semi-hard dick (probably showing a good 6.5-7" at this point). "That part looks pretty healthy and obviously works; but you should give your testicle some time off."
I agreed and he told me to go ahead and pull my pants back up. He prescribed another round of antibiotics -- this one stronger than the last -- which I never took. I did, however, give my dick a few days off. And eventually, about a month later, all the pain ceased.
I've not gone back to the doctor and, quite frankly, hope I don't have to. Not only because I don't want to have a testicular problem, but because for the first time in my life I think I was more uncomfortable being naked in front of a straight man than he was, seeing and feeling me aroused!
True story. 100%.
