The Urologist's Female Assistant Ch. 03

"All you'll need to do at this point is keep your glans and inner foreskin moisturized so the raw surfaces don't adhere," she said, "and don't wash or rinse under the foreskin for at least three days. The membranes cleanse themselves and will generate a layer of protective tissue. You don't want to disturb that."

She turned her attention to Liz.

"Will you locate some aloe gel so he can be on his way?"

Liz nodded obediently, then smirked as soon as Dr. McGinnis turned to leave the room.

We both stared at my penis, standing like a cactus in the desert, except cacti don't pulse with a heartbeat. Liz gave me a squint, then rose and opened one of the cabinets. She produced a foil packet labeled "Pure Aloe Vera."

"This," she said, pausing every few words for effect, "is what you'll spread over your glans and inner foreskin to protect against adhesions. I'll show you how to do it."

With that, she peeled the end off the packet and squeezed its contents onto her right palm.

"Just rub it all over the surfaces like this," she whispered.

As Liz grasped my penis and began sliding her lubricated hand along its length, I felt my testicles rise. Although they had given up a load half an hour ago, Liz and her mother had commissioned another. My pre-ejaculate streamed out, mingling with the plant-based gel covering Liz's fingers and thinning it slightly. Liz's hand slid a little more easily along the skin.

With her other hand, Liz cupped and fondled my scrotum. My legs began to shake. Liz pressed two fingers on either side of my penile bulb and massaged the skin gently. Her grip tightened on my shaft and my foreskin began to snap over the glans with each stroke. I couldn't breathe. My erection felt as though it would burst just before streams of hot semen spurted rhythmically from it onto my chest, belly, and over my shoulder.

Liz slowed her stroking and focused on my testicles. She tugged at them one at a time, which eased the tension in a way that made my eyelids flutter. The last of my ejaculate pooled just below my navel. Liz slowly shook her head.

"Well, once again, you've gotten yourself all excited about a woman taking sharp instruments to your penis," she sighed, looking over at the tray of gleaming tools. "Someday maybe you'll see this through to the finish, and I'll have the biggest 'skin ever to show for it."

She took my prepuce between her thumb and forefinger, stretched it out taut, leaned close to me, and whispered.

"It's time you admit that I want your foreskin more than you do."

Then she dropped my flagging erection and turned to wash her hands.

"Towels are on the countertop," she said, over her shoulder, "and don't miss what went over your shoulder. Pretty sure I saw a couple of bursts go that way."

Liz dried her hands and tossed the damp cloth at me.

"Keep that glans moist, OK?"

"OK," I said, hoarsely, still catching up with my breathing.

"Let me know how it goes in six weeks," she said, and closed the door.