Part 2 - (Sorry guys, it's taking me awhile to finish it up!)
Well no shit Sherlock. Who has a foreskin any longer than it takes to whip it off in the delivery room?
“No”, I reply, “I’m circumcised”. Isn’t everyone? Certainly where I come from it’s how you left the hospital. Maybe some born in their trailer hillbillies weren’t circumcised but as far as I knew, everyone in my immediate circle had the same style of cock that I did. No, scratch that. One Indian exchange student we had in my senior year, he was uncircumcised. We all found out in the showers after gym class. Poor bastard took heat for that until the day he left.
So I’m a little puzzled but not nearly as puzzled as the lovely Dr Babic, who is failing spectacularly at holding herself together. She’s easily one of the most attractive women I’ve seen since I got here, but her arrogance had turned me off completely. I’m kind of enjoying seeing her flustered, so I push it, just a touch.
“Isn’t everyone circumcised?” I asked innocently. I’m pretty sure by the way she’s reacting I know what her answer is, but I want to see how she deals with this perspective of mine.
“What? No!” She seems equal parts shocked and outraged. “Why?”.
Yep - pretty much what I was expecting. Haha pretty doctor lady, you can’t know everything.
I dig in a little deeper.
“Everyone I know is circumcised,” I offer her, again, as sweetly innocent as I can. “It’s just done automatically in the hospital when you’re born. That’s how you take your baby home with you.”
Her neck is now bright crimson, but she’s still got a little ego to overcome yet.
“This is not possible”, she murmurs, again sounding shocked, but there’s also a hint of a question mark in her voice. She’s doubting herself. Just one more shot at her and I’ll be good. I’m happy with the points I’ve been scoring. Yeah - I’m an asshole sometimes.
“But Dr Babic, you’re a doctor. Surely you must have studied this at medical school? Surely I’m not the first circumcised man you’ve ever seen?”.
Until now her gaze has been drifting between my nose and my navel. Now she locks her eyes on mine (beautiful blue Jennifer Connelly eyes), takes a breath and says,
“We don’t do this here. I know this from maybe Africa or Muslimische or Jewish persons, or if you have an infekt. Maybe diabetes it is needed. That’s all.”
That’s all. End of discussion. This lady obviously doesn’t like being told there are things she doesn’t know. And yet....I’m still lying on the table with my shorts down on my thighs and my cock exposed, and Dr Babic’s neck is still red, and what’s this? Is that a hint of an erect nipple I see pushing it’s way through her bra and shirt?
I can see her eyes locked on mine, but too hard. Like she’s studiously avoiding looking anywhere else, although I’m guessing she might want be wanting to.
“Umm - so, what now?” I say.
She jumps. “Of course” she exclaims and, re-finding her professional mask, tells me she has to check me for a ...I don’t really understand what she says.
Then it’s my turn to jump, as I feel her cold sweaty hand gently cup my balls and her fingers push upward into my perineum.
“......(something in German)....”. She looks at me puzzled, but not as annoyed as before.
“Sorry”, I say, wondering why her hands are sweating so much. It feels like I have a salamander sleeping on my scrotum. “I don’t understand..”
“Umm...” she begins as she starts searching the English dictionary in her head. My phone with my translation app is in my jeans pocket, but my jeans are lying on the back of the chair I was sitting in, not anywhere near me.
“..Spasm?”, she suggests hopefully. I look at her face, and I can’t help myself, I crack up laughing. The most remarkable thing happens next. She cracks up laughing too. It transforms her completely. She is no longer Dr Babic the ice queen perfectionist, she is just a pretty young lady who can’t think of the word she needs.
“Oh Je”, she says, blushing a little, “my English..”
“Did you mean ‘cough’?” I ask her. I can’t think of anything else. This brings about more fits of laughter, which make her boobs jiggle in a really nice way. And for sure - she has a pokie situation happening that would make Jennifer Aniston proud.
“Yes!” she exclaims. “Koff! Koff koff please!”
How cute. Cough cough please. I dutifully do as I’m asked.
I don’t seem to be a hernia risk. I expect her to head back to her desk and continue making notes but she doesn’t. She stays at the side of the table, her smile fading a little but her mood still vastly different than it was before.
“Normally I must make an inspection of the foreskin” she tells me earnestly, “but I don’t know what I now do.”
“Well,” I tell her, “I don’t have a foreskin, so I guess that’s moot, right”
“What means ‘moot’” she asks, but not looking at me. She still looking at my penis.
“Moot. You know, like, ‘it doesn’t matter anymore’,”.
“Hmm - but I must make an inspection. This is not my praxis - I am only a new physician, so I must everything correctly do.”
Well, if a pretty lady asks you if she can inspect your cock, who are you not to oblige her?
“Ok”, I tell her, “Be my guest.”
“Go ahead. Finish your inspection.”
I’m the first to admit I’m not the most well endowed man on the planet. My ex girlfriend told me I had an ET cock - that it would extend like ET’s neck in that old movie, so in it’s current state it’s most definitely not a ‘shower’. And I’ve noticed other guys in the locker room have seem to have tighter skin on their units - maybe because they’re not growers like me, I don’t know, but at rest, my penis has a few wrinkles of skin that sit just behind the head.
It’s here that Dr Babic seems to want to begin.