Date: Sun, 02 Sep 2012 10:45:12 +0200 From: MICHAEL SOROS Subject: My Problem Part 2 I closed my eyes at this point because I knew I was going to pour out another eggcup full of cream, but it was obvious that I was going to pour it all over the doctor's hand, trousers and white coat! Talk about embarrassing! I felt my balls pull up inside me and the base of my penis begin to contract. There was nothing I could do except enjoy the ride and hope for the best afterwards. And I did. I kept my eyes firmly shut with my top teeth biting my lower lip for some time after I had emptied myself onto the good doctor. I could hear my heart beat loudly in my ears. I didn't know at the time but I was supporting myself with my right hand over his shoulder with my legs apart. That always happened - my legs pushed themselves apart when I shot my cream. Not a problem when I'm in lying on the floor or on the bed but rather awkward standing in a doctors surgery! I opened my right eye slowly and then my left one and looked into the face of the doctor. I needed to know how he was reacting. I could only see his ear. His head was pointing down and looking at my cock. I followed his gaze to see the mess I had made. And what a mess! His large footballer's hand was holding my cock from his finger tips to his wrist. All the cream had shot up his shirt sleeve and was now running down his hand, onto my cock and onto the floor - and there was an awful lot of it as usual. My little brain was on high alert which was about as bright as a 25 watt bulb but I had to find some way of making myself totally innocent of what just happened. I'd say it was his fault for rubbing it too much. That sounded plausible. I'd get away with that. I was beginning to come down from my high now and stood down from my tippy toes and pulled myself up with as much dignity a skinny nearly 14 year old boy can with his cock covered with sperm and his doctor's clothes ruined by it. "When I said eggcup" I said quietly "I should have said 'rather large' eggcup. Sorry for the mess. Will I fail the physical? You won't say anything will you? It was your fault. There was another hour left before all that load was going to come out. Do you have a cloth? It washes out you know." I looked earnestly at him in my best innocent boy face - the one I use with my aunt when I do something wrong. The one that never works. He slowly turned towards me and looked me straight in the eye. We were at the same height now. This was the crux - the breaking point. What would he say or do? And do you know what he did? He smiled! A nice big toothy smile and licked his lips. He was still holding my cock and started to rub all the cream into it slowly. "Now that is something!" he said. "15 years a doctor and never saw anything like this before. Wow!" He pulled himself up and fell against the back of the chair without letting go of my cock so he brought the rest of me with him. He opened his legs wide and placed me sideways between them so he had my cum covered cock in one hand and my bum in the other. "Are you telling me that you come like that every time you have an orgasm? Four of five times a day? For the last 3 or so years?" I nodded slowly. I didn't know what the drama was about. "Well you are going to need a lot of work young man. This is totally out of the ordinary. Listen to me." He pulled me closer so that I could feel his warm clear breath on my face. "Your balls are far too big for a boy of your age and size. A man would kill to have big productive balls like that - sure they totally fill my hand (and that's no small hand) with a cock which looks about 8 or so inches when it's spongy and soft. Lots of men would love to have a cock like this. It is just so unusual on a boy your size. I know it's part of the syndrome of hypergonadism but....do you know what lad? You look like you have the tackle of a professional porn star stuck on your little body! Even if you grow up to be a strapping 6 footer professional football player you will still get looks from the rest of the team - jealous looks I might add - carrying something like that around. And so productive! What a burden you have had to carry on your own. Shocking!!" There's that word again. 'Hyder goad' or something. I heard that part. A lot of the rest went in one ear and out the other. How am I supposed to concentrate when a blond beautiful man, with smashing teeth, is rubbing my boycream into my cock using one hand and with his other hand running gently over my sticky out bottom. I was wondering if I could come back again and pretend I had a cold or something. The rest of what he said meant nothing to me. Don't think he was used to dealing with dumb boys. "So I'll help you out" he said. Nodding and moving closer to me. I thought he was going to kiss me - but he didn't. I wouldn't have objected. I'll work on pouting a bit at home I thought. "I'll set up a file for you and we can try and make life a little bit easier for you. I'll do a bit of research on you - with your consent [thank God he didn't mention my father's consent] and send off the results to help others suffering with this problem. Do you agree?" I was hardly going to say no. A free first class wank and my bum rubbed for nothing. Seems like a good swop to me. I nodded and smiled widely. "So I'm ok for the physical then? I can make the team?" "There was never any doubt about that at all young man. None at all. We'll sort out your 'little problem' and you should be fine". What did he mean by 'sort out my little problem'. He just told me it was a big problem. Adults are very confusing. "We don't have showers here so I can't offer you one to clean yourself up. Sorry about that". He was pulling up my undies at this point although in no rush I noticed. It was always an effort at the best of times getting my little white briefs over my roundy bum but he tried. Trying to get my cock and balls all packed up into the front of my briefs - that took some time and both hands too! I just stood there and watched as though it were someone else he was doing this to. "It's like trying to get the toothpaste back in the tube" he said with that beautiful smile of his. He'd changed his tune since the start of my examination. He looked like the cat that found the cream. And maybe he had. I squeezed myself back into my jeans and put the rest of my clothes on while the doctor just pottered about the place looking busy. He was really looking at me and I knew it - so I turned round to protect my modesty while dressing but let him have a nice eyeful of my beautiful round butt. It was a form of payment I suppose. And he said he was going to help me. He never said how, or why. When I was all buttoned up I turned around and stood there, looking directly at him. He took his chair and sat down. "It's unfair that you should have to carry the burden of such a large penis at your age, not to mention the constant heavy ejaculations of sperm 4 or 5 times a day. It mustn't have been easy for you." I was going to interrupt and say it was quite easy actually but I thought it better to keep my mouth shut. "I know your family of course. I think the whole town knows your family and I have read your background report from the football club and the comments made by your coach Mr Sloan. With this in mind I think that I am in a position to help you both with your football and living expenses - particularly where clothing is concerned. Do you follow?" I'd follow him to the end of the world if he kept smiling like that but I think he knew he was talking to a mini-brain as my dear grandmother would say. His words were too long and to many and it took me a few minutes for them to sink in and register. Maybe my mind is on a two minute delay or something but I got the gist and all I heard was 'free' something or another. Anything free was welcome - except a punch as - my beloved aunt would say when she sobered up. "You can't keep washing out your underpants every day when they fill up with your sperm just to save them. I'm going to arrange for you to get an unlimited supply so you needn't have to worry whether they get saturated or not. Think of it as payment for taking part in our little research project." All I heard was free underwear and lots of it so he had my vote! I began to take a bit more of an interest now. I think the doctor could tell from the look on my face and the way my brow tends to gather in a pile in the centre of my forehead when I have to concentrate on something the teachers are explaining. I get headaches because I have to concentrate so often. Except with Mr Bissett my technical drawing teacher. No concentration needed there mainly because I gave up listening to him and just looking at him last year because it was a hell of a lot easier and rewarding following his tight basketball bum from one side of the blackboard to the other watching for the outline of his underpants under the thin material of his grey trousers. "Do your follow me so far?" he said. He could see I was wandering off. "I have access to certain sponsorship funds to help potential soccer players who may otherwise be unable to reach their true potential and I believe you may be this year's candidate!" He raised his eyes up from my crotch which had begun to grow again thinking of Mr Bissett. I 'd lost interest now in what he was saying and Mr Bissett's bum was taking up a lot of the space in my brain that was used for thinking so I couldn't follow him and the image of my fantasy teacher at the same time. My father, when I saw him at all, used to tell everyone it was a miracle I could walk and think at the same time. He was an idiot. "Well enough words then" he continued, shuffling some paper around the table and looking uncomfortable under the desk. "You know Mr Durkan the club's sponsor and the owner of the sports shops in the local towns? Well I'm going to contact him and tell him to expect you in the morning. I know it's a Sunday but he's a very busy man. I'll explain the situation to him, no funds etc, a bit of a physical 'situation' and I'll tell him to make your football kit, school uniform and underwear available from the sponsor ship fund. Are you happy with that?" Oh my God! New clothes that hadn't been passed down from relatives or bought from the charity shops! I wonder what they'd smell like? I knew the sports shop in the town but had never been in it - mainly because they didn't sell second hand clothes I suppose. I never objected too much to hand me down trousers because they were smaller and showed off my bum. But brand new clothes and kit. Bum or no bum I was having that! I knew Mr Durkan; well I knew who he was because I had seen him on the side-lines with coach during practice matches. He was a former footballer himself I was told. Still in fine shape. Blond hair. Always wore a short jacket so you could get a good look at his very very tight faded jeans. 'A fine footballer's bum' is how one of the local girls described it - the tramp! I often stood in his line of vision pulling my shorts tightly up so he could get a good view but he never expressed an interest, not to me anyway. He always had a young teenager in his van when he was going from town to town moving stock around his various shops. It was my dream to be that boy but I never knew how to go about it. The boys were only my age but blond. Always blond I noticed that. I of course, as luck would have it, had jet black hair. Thick coal coloured black hair. And blue eyes which were very noticeable because of the black hair. My primary school teacher used to call my Snow White - the bitch. Not because of my black hair, blue eyes and red rosy cheeks but because 'you seem to be asleep most of the time'. That part was true. Dreaming of my prince. Certainly wasn't dreaming of her lard ass wobbling from side to side you can be sure of that. "Right then! That's about everything I think. Do you have any questions? Anything bothering you?" I didn't. "Don't mention any of this to your aunt or grandmother. I'll explain everything when I see them. They come here quite often looking for sick notes for the social welfare office so I don't think there will be any problems there. Just do as Mr Durkan says. He has a lot of experience in these matters and he can be a good sponsor to you and the team so just go along with it. I'll see you at training during the week. I may have to check things are working well 'down there' and not getting any worse but we'll sort that out with coach next week. Call in at the sports shop tomorrow morning now won't you?" He was saying this while walking me out the door at this point. He had his hand on my waist but moved it down to my bum and gave a hard enough slap as he sent me on my way. He's a nice doctor! New clothes. It didn't cross my mind that all the shops were shut on a Sunday - normally. Please consider making a donation to Nifty to keep this service free.