It got a bit silly, but Ben was able to keep spitting aside new dosages of Tuccox as the three kept checking back on him.
He assumed that they would be away from him indefinitely for a "special conference" -- but before he knew it, the sweet-faced Dr. Delphine Tremont poked her head back in the door and smiled timidly. "Hello, Ben. Mind if I come in?" She sat directly beside him, her gentle gaze immediately falling on the area of his crotch under the sheet. "we're very concerned about the fact that the Tuccox is not retracting you. It always has with male subjects in the past. It seems you're ... special. Anyhow, if we can't solve this, you may reach an erection of ten inches for the rest of your life."
"Is that a problem?"
"I'm afraid so. The capacity of the average vagina is only eight inches." She nervously fingered a slim little silver chain around her neck. "But I don't want you to despair. There are actually some women in the world who would be very happy to accommodate your new size."
"I don't suppose you know their phone numbers, do you?"
Dr. Tremont laughed. "You are quite outrageous! Although, as a specialist in sexual response, I have met quite a few interesting women."
Dr. Tremont rose, then flipped his sheet back and gently grabbed and massaged his rubbery flaccidity.
"I don't want you to despair, Ben. Some women would be VERY interested in you."
It occurred to Ben that he might be looking right at one.
|