Paul’s Premature Performance

By hodownnuzv


“Hello Doctor…Ma-Mazzeo,” Paul, stammered. He walked into the screening room and his fine motor functions grinded to a halt as he laid eyes on the beautiful blonde doctor that would be attending to him today. Paul’s eyes traced her body downwards. His eyes fell from her long hair in a tight bun held together with a pencil, to her baby blue scrubs jutting outwards at the chest where her breasts rested. Doctor Mazzeo cleared her throat and when Paul looked up she was firmly staring at him, waiting for him to make eye contact.

Contributing to Paul’s momentary lapse of thinking skills was the size of the screening room. When he pulled open the door, he expected a small fluorescent-lit area with an exam table that had crinkled paper pulled across its top and maybe a single desk in the corner. What he got was a room with about twenty nursing students all getting settled into individual desks and pulling computers out of their backpacks. At the front of the room was an array of whiteboards and projector screens that had various diagrams and graphs from lessons of the past. To the left of the nursing students were tall floor-to-ceiling windows that faced a large grassy field and the sun. This, Paul realized, was a classroom.

Doctor Mazzeo walked over to Paul, frozen in the doorway, and said, “Hello, I see you’re here on time for your appointment. I accidentally double-booked myself today and realized this could make for a great lesson, so you don’t mind if some of my nursing students observe our appointment, do you? This is a routine checkup correct?”

“Oh um, ah, no I guess not,” Paul said. As he looked around the room, he saw tall women with brown hair and short, freckled red-haired nurses in scrubs, and they were talking and laughing as they waited for class to begin. They hadn’t even noticed this rare male face at the door of their classroom. Paul had completely forgotten that he was not seeing Doctor Mazzeo for a routine checkup at all, but for a specific issue, he needed help with.

“Okay, well good.” She turned, walked to the front of the class, and began. Paul followed her to the center of the room and stood beside and behind her. His hands were crossed in front of his chest and his shoulders slouched. The doctor stood for about ten seconds as the class quieted down and then she began. “Alright ladies, today to start class we’re going to give one of my patients some care. It shouldn’t take too long, and then we will finish class by going over what will be in the final as promised.”

“Everybody say, Hi Paul.”

“Hi Paul,” the nursing students stated in unison.

Paul waved back, looked at the place where his feet met the floor then squinted towards the back wall to see where the exit was. He caught the eyes of a woman in the back that had short-cropped brown hair and a ring piercing her left nostril. She smiled and flexed her eyebrows up once. Paul looked down again.

There were still a few students mumbling to each other when the doctor said, “Okay ladies, as you know we typically begin each examination by asking the patient what brings him in today.” She turned towards Paul and smiled.

In a mad rush of blood, Paul remembered that his appointment today was anything but routine and stared at the doctor agape. His eyes swelled, and he quickly peeked towards the door to his left that he entered through. Outside people rushed back and forth with papers and backpacks and lives, and he could disappear entirely and find a new general practitioner or at least someone who would help him in privacy as opposed to in front of a room full of bubbly women.

“Paul?” She said, bringing him back to reality. He jumped, and his head whipped back to her. A few students who were paying attention giggled under their breath.

“Why are you here today?”

“So I, um, have been cumming a little quickly during sex,” Paul said.

Suddenly the murmurs of conversation around the room slammed to a halt. The student in the second row who had been texting locked her phone and put it in her pocket.

“You’re what? I couldn’t hear you,” Doctor Mazzeo said.

“I’ve been cumming a little too quickly during sex, it’s not super fast it-”

“You’re orgasming a little quickly during sex. Did everyone hear that?” She paused, “I’m not sure everyone in the back heard you. Are you saying you’re a premature ejaculator?”

“Yes doctor,” Paul said.

“Oh, well why don’t you describe to me what usually happens.” Around the room, laptops were closed, and women leaned forward in their chairs. The world on the other side of the door to the hallway was suddenly a million miles away. The sun glared through the windows, raising the temperature of the room slowly, but noticeably.

“Well, I start getting going, and then before I even realize I am close to the edge, I cum,” Paul said.

“And this is during intercourse?”

“Yes, and while masturbating.”

Stifled laughter skittered around the room.

“Okay, so you have a lot of experience with this then?” the doctor asks.

“Yes.”

“Hmmmm, well we can all understand why you want to fix that little problem.”

Paul felt a bead of sweat detach from his hairline and hike down his forehead. His stomach was doing somersaults, but below the waist, he had begun getting an erection. Under his black jeans and his underwear, Paul’s heart skipped a beat, and his penis hiccuped against the fabric as he remembered what underwear he had on today.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get undressed and let’s see what we’re working with.”

“Right here in front of everyone?”

“Yes, in front of everyone, you should take off all of your clothes.”

Paul looked towards the back of the room and again caught the eye of the nurse with the nose ring. Her lips were pulled back in a smirk and instead of cocking both eyebrows to him; she slowly raised one in a perfunctory sly grin. He looked back at Doctor Mazzeo who had the same look of amused impatience.

Paul pulled in a breath through his nose, held it. He heard the clock ticking on the wall behind him and the bodies rushing through the hall outside. Then he reached for his shirt and pulled it up over his head. The class exhaled simultaneously as he moved. When his shirt had cleared his short brown hair, he tossed it onto an empty desk in the front row and reached for his belt. He felt his heartbeat in his ears and his dick and his balls, but his knees seemed entirely devoid of life as anything other than shaky gelatin.

“So you don’t have an unhealthy bod-” Paul pulled down his jeans, and she stopped her thought short. Around the class, students sucked in gasps, and a few even buried the heads in their hands and tried to duck below Paul’s line of sight.

“Oh, oh goodness. Ummmm, well class I was going to say Paul is not a bad-looking specimen, but now I’m a bit confused as he seems to be wearing… Panties.” Paul stood in the ensuing silence with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. His pink polka-dotted panties that were initially being pushed off of his crotch by his growing erection were now shrinking back down under the cool breeze and watchful eyes of the class.

“I’m a bit confused, you’re here for umm, premature ejaculation of the penis correct?”

“Yes,” Paul said, “but I find that I fit in these better than usual underwear.”

A cacophony of whispers could be heard, and Paul picked up none of what was actually being said. He heard choked-back laughter and many people coughing to cover up the hullabaloo of their classmates.

“Oh,” she paused. “Turn around.”

Paul turned to face the whiteboard, and his ass faced the classroom. The panties had been pulled into a bunch in his crack and as he turned he pulled them out so that they rested flush on his cheeks. He tried to examine what was on the board as a distraction, but before he had a moment to internalize what was there, she made him turn back around. “You do look pretty good in them,” she said as he faced the class again, “but they don’t seem to contain you as well as they should.”

Paul muttered thank you, but his voice was eclipsed by Doctor Mazzeo saying, “Now take those off.”

Paul reached down and realized with a shock that his left testicle had been comically hanging out of the leg of the panties this whole time. He quickly corralled his balls and his dick in one hand and pulled the panties down with his other before throwing them on top of his clothing pile in front of him.

“And why are you covering your penis? You know we can’t help you if you don’t let us see what we’re dealing with,” Doctor Mazzeo asked.

“Sorry,” Paul said, “It’s just there are a lot of women here.”

“Yes there are a lot of women here, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

Paul quickly took his hands and clasped them behind his back. If he had taken his time, a second thought might have made him think better of the action. The murmuring and the giggling stopped. Paul stood in the center of the silence waiting. His penis was shrunken to its most relaxed state, and it rested on top of his large, tight balls.

After too long, Doctor Mazzeo said, “Well class, what we have here in front of us is a penis that’s, err, rather small.” Many students subtly nodded in agreement. “Hmmm, and it’s a little crooked too. Now, this is interesting.”

“Well, it’s not all the way hard is it?” Asked a girl in the front row.

She was wearing pink scrubs and still had a stethoscope around her neck from her previous class. Her legs were crossed under the desk, and like every other student, her laptop was now closed, so she had no distractions from the “routine” checkup happening in front of her.

“I believe not, Paul you’re standing in front of a room full of women and you also can’t get fully erect? Interesting,” Doctor Mazzeo said. She started looking at her things to find a clipboard so she could take notes as this was technically an official doctor visit and it wouldn’t do to forget everything that happened. “Would you say this is the case, Paul?”

“Yeah, I have to do something to it to get it hard,” Paul said.

“You have to do something to attain an erection? Well, why don’t we collect some data now, and then we can compare it to when you stroke it a little?” She pulled out a tape measure and handed it to Paul. Her fingers brushed his hand as she put it down and gooseflesh broke out on his arms up to his shoulders.

Paul held the tape measure for a second and looked at it dumbly before the doctor said, “Well don’t act like you haven’t measured your penis before, along the top. Let’s go.”

Paul took the end of the white cloth tape measure in his left hand and pushed it as far into his pubic bone as possible. There wasn’t much fat there, but enough to make a difference. Then to his right, he pulled the measurement out to his shriveled pink head.

“It’s… two inches right now,” he said.

“Oh God,” rang out from the back of the room and the tension in the room shattered in a gale of laughter.

Doctor Mazzeo expected this, and when she finished writing down the measurement on her clipboard, she waved the class down to murmurs and chitters again and faced Paul with her large green eyes.

“Two inches? Hmmm, well, we’re definitely looking at a small penis, statistically speaking” the doctor said to nobody in particular. Another smaller wave of chuckles brushed across the room.

“It grows though, really,” Paul almost pleaded although he snuck a peek down at his best friend and realized that it may be doing quite the opposite under such careful scrutiny.

“Oh, it grows? Well, I hope so because you’re already leaking on the floor. Sadie, get this man a paper towel before he makes more of a mess.” A short, slightly thicker student stood in her blue scrubs and hurried out the door, hoping to come back before anything good happened.

Paul looked down again and eyed the long unbroken line of precum stretching all the way from his cock to the floor. He turned beet red and reached to try and pull it off the head of his penis. In doing so, he bumped his penis, and a larger drop of precum bloomed at his slit and fell to the floor. He panicked internally. The class laughed, and even Doctor Mazzeo had to hide her amusement behind her clipboard.

“Well, you’re already dripping precum. Oh goodness, class, this is worse than I thought. We’re going to have to take extreme measures today and use a method that I tried on my husband. It doesn’t work immediately, it is more of a long-term solution so we may not see great results today, but you will certainly be entertained.” There was a small cheer.

To Paul’s left, the classroom door opened again, and Sadie came back in with a stack of paper towels from the bathroom. She put them on the floor between Paul’s legs and went back to her desk without a word. She wouldn’t meet his eyes the whole time.

“The first thing I want you to do Paul,” Doctor Mazzeo said, “is to take some precum off of the tip of your penis with your fingers, just like that, and place it in your mouth.”

Paul had fallen into a pit of horniness and helplessness so deep that he followed this bizarre request without a second thought. As he put his fingers in his mouth, he tasted a lightly salty, but mostly sweet gel across his tongue and a camera flash went off in the back. It was ignored.

“So now let’s just update on where we are, you wear panties because they fit you better, your penis is two and a half inches semi-erect, and you put your precum in your mouth. Is that all correct?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Okay, this just may work. Go ahead and get your penis fully erect for us.”

Paul, forgetting where he was, went for his usual chubbing technique and put one finger on the top and another on the bottom of his penis. As he squeezed towards his helmet, another large glob of pre-cum glistened onto his tip. “Quick! In your mouth!” Doctor Mazzeo cried. The class laughed as his frantic left hand made the transfer.

Meanwhile, his right fingers slid up and down his dick, moving the skin over his slick head and back down. Within seconds his penis began curving upwards, and he bent his knees and sighed in pleasure. “Be sure to stop when you are fully erect, do NOT get carried away with those two fingers,” Doctor Mazzeo said.

The class waited and watched. A student in the third row twirled her long hair and blew a pink bubble of gum that popped onto her lips. Finally, Paul was able to put most of his hand around his dick, and that informed him that his dick was at full mast, and he put his hand to his side.

In front of twenty nursing students raptly watching and one doctor taking careful notes, Paul stood sheepishly with his erection standing straight out in front of him. It protruded from a small shock of pubic hair and curved gently towards the ceiling. Paul waited and waited.

“Okay, I guess you are fully erect now. Hmmm, it’s quite crooked upwards, isn’t it? Did you do something to it?” She asked.

“Nope, it’s just like that,” Paul said.

“Well before you get soft again let’s measure it.”

In reaching for the tape measure, Paul’s penis began drooping towards the floor.

“Are you still fully erect?” The doctor said.

“Uh, well it got a little soft.”

“Yes it did, didn’t it?” Her succinct language amused the class. “Well, stroke it again with those two fingers, but carefully.”

Paul put his fingers around the shaft and pulled it back to life. The doctor turned towards the class and said, “Now class this is how Paul normally strokes his crooked penis, take note of the skin sliding over the head and his gentle squeezing.”

She turned back and said, “Now stop, stop and measure that for us.”

Paul had the tape measure ready and immediately laid it across the top of his now throbbing cock. “It is four and three-quarter inches,” he said.

“Hmmmm, well that’s hardly impressive, below average for sure.”

Paul put down the measuring tape, and his dick reflexively bounced a few times as he grazed it.

“And now he seems to be waving at us to try and keep it hard, this is amusing, isn’t it? Now let’s perform a little experiment with you. Let’s see if you can last two minutes before ejaculation. The time will begin with you doing ten jumping jacks as a sort of simulation of the rigors of intercourse, then I want you to show us how you stroke, and most of all I want you to avoid cumming. Do everything as you normally would, but truly fight the urge. What do you think ladies, do we have faith in Paul’s dick?”

The classroom cheered, and many women shouted with positive reinforcement.

“Okay I’m going to tell you when to start and you better not ejaculate, but if you can’t control your penis, then please cum in this receptacle,” she handed him a small container about the size of a shot glass. “Now I’m going to tell you when to start.”

The room settled into its place around him and everyone took a deep breath in preparation. Paul wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft and said, “Okay I’m ready.”

“Ready, GO!”

Paul started stroking his penis at a nice even pace, but before he could get too into the feeling, a student in the front row with a bow in her curly red hair said, “don’t forget your ten jumping jacks!”

Paul huffed, whipped his hand off his penis, put his heels together and his arms by his side and began jumping. In an instant, his counting was drowned out by laughter as the women howled at his flailing penis. As he jumped up, it would sag down, only to whip back up into his stomach when he landed with his legs apart. Then when he jumped again, it would slap back down on his balls and up into his stomach. Two slaps per jump, ten jumps.

When he finished, in a horny frenzy he immediately put his hand back on his dick and began stroking fast. The laughter of the women gave his dick more eagerness, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back the cum for long, but he had to try. In dread, he looked at Doctor Mazzeo and said, “How much time is left?”

Through a fit of laughter, the doctor said, “Oh don’t worry, that’s only twenty-five seconds, you’re little guy will still have time to cum.”

Paul knew he wasn’t going to last and began ogling the women around the room. Not much skin could be seen as the scrubs didn’t have plunging necklines or high hemlines, but the faces of amusement were all he needed, and he soon began to feel the sperm gathering its forces at the rim of his balls. Ready to spill over at the command.

“Switch hands! Make him switch hands,” said a voice from the back.

Paul looked at the doctor for guidance, and she nodded as a command. The cum subsided slightly in his testicles as he put his left hand on his dick and tried to stroke for the first time in his life. His hips bucked as he tried to find his rhythm and the women in front of him laughed hysterically.

“His dick needs to cum, but his hand doesn’t know how,” yelled a pale girl.

“Switchback! He’ll never cum this way,” shouted another.

Paul switched back to his right hand with violent force, but again before he could find the finish line another voice shouted, “Booooo! Make him work for it! Left hand Pauly! Left hand.”

Paul switched back, and finally, the crowd seemed content to watch him buck and bounce. His dick disappeared and reappeared at the edge of his fist in sporadic peek-a-boo and just as he found a semblance of rhythm Doctor Mazzeo said, “And stop. Great job Paul, you made it through two minutes of jerking.”

The crowd clapped and cheered him, and a few laughed at the hint of sarcasm in her voice. Underneath the camaraderie, Paul stood with his hands on his hips gasping for air. He knew had only just survived the two-minute mark.

“Class, what do you observe about Paul at this moment?”

“He’s beet red,” said one.

“His penis is even redder,” said another.

The class laughed. “Paul if you can manage it without ejaculating, lift your penis and present your balls to the ladies.”

Paul reached down and held the head of his penis between two fingers. He pulled it up towards the sky and bent his knees so that his balls were more visible. “They’re really tight, oh he wants to cum bad,” said Sadie from the front row.

“Yes, very good Sadie. As you can see ladies his testicles are hiding all the way up in his abdomen, this indicates that he is ready to ejaculate. I predict we will be seeing him squirt very soon. Paul, drop that penis and listen close. You’re going to have another two minutes to masturbate. Try not to orgasm. If your penis wins the battle and forces you to ejaculate, you must do so in the receptacle in your left hand.”

“Okay doctor, I’m rea—”

“Let me finish,” Doctor Mazzeo said. “IF you lose this battle with your balls, you will drink your semen from the jar. Is that clear?”

A murmur of amusement washed over the classroom, and a few pupils even faked gagging with their laughing classmates. “Doctor, you can’t possibly want me to drink my cum. That is disgusting,” Paul said.

“Listen, you came to us to fix your… little problem, do you want it fixed or not? I assume you expect your wife or your girlfriend or whoever to swallow your load with a smile. This method will work threefold. First, it will show you how gross your semen really is to swallow. Second, it will help you associate your orgasm with distaste, and that will help you hold off in the future. Third, it will entertain us to no end. Always remember though, we want you to avoid cumming, think of it as a sort of consolation prize for us.”

Paul took a deep breath and looked down at his penis in preparation. It throbbed, but also drooped slowly towards the floor. “You can do it, Paul,” cheered a nurse from the side of the room.

“Yeah Paul, come on! We believe in your tiny penis.” His penis drooped further.

“We better get started before you’re penis shrinks all the way into your balls. At the ready,” Doctor Mazzeo said.

“And go!”

Paul started stroking his penis slowly, intent on not having to swallow his seed. “Jump! Do the jumping!” Said a voice somewhere in the room. “He has no blood in his head, it’s all in his dickhead,” said another.

Paul took his hand from his penis and began counting out jumping jacks again. The women laughed even harder for when his penis began flopping it whipped long strands of precum around the room. One landed on Paul’s own cheek, another splattered across a desk in front of a flinching nurse. The student’s relished the penis pandemonium that their professor was orchestrating.

After ten stomach-smacking jumping jacks, Paul reached and missed his bobbing his penis, then grabbed it in a sure fist on the second try and began stroking very slowly. The room calmed to a soft hush and watched. The only sound that could be heard was the soft squicking of his hand squeezing pre-cum into his pink head and down the shaft.

“Paul, you’re stroking too slow. Stop right now.”

With a grunt, Paul listened to her command and waited for her next instruction.

“I am going to pull up a metronome on my phone. You know what that is, I want you to stroke to the beat that I set and again, don’t cum or else.”

“Don’t want to drink your milk honey?” chided the shorthaired brown lady in the back of the class. Everyone laughed while the doctor waited for her phone to load.

“Okay Paul, forget the jumping jacks and follow the beat. You have two minutes, ready, go.”

The doctor set the clicking to one hundred and four beats per minute. Paul knew he wouldn’t last long and soon began breathing heavily. Picking up on this, the doctor said, “You’re at twenty seconds Paul,” with a smirk.

She slowed the metronome to ten beats per minute. Then she cranked it to two hundred and twenty beats per minute and muted it after a few seconds. The class hooted at Paul’s frantic breathing over his motionless right hand. His left hand held the small measured jar out in front of his dick. He throbbed and oozed pre-cum. The metronome began again at one hundred and twenty beats per minute. “You’re at thirty seconds in, tell us when you’re going to ejaculate Paul,” the doctor said.

He followed the beat, and within ten seconds he began breathing deep and making extra sure that the cup was right at the head of his penis.

“I-I—” Paul said. His hand kept stroking the metronome pace, but his abs began flexing, and his chest heaved. In his gut, he felt heat spread its fingers, and he moaned, “I’m gonna cum.”

Paul grunted and thrust his hips forward; the class let out a cheer and started clapping as a rope of white fluid shot onto the far side of the receptacle. Somewhere far off the doctor said, “Uh oh, we didn’t even make it a minute like that. Looks like someone is going to have cum in his mouth.” The ladies guffawed with their applause.

Paul’s eyes were locked on his dick as it pounded and streamed pulse after pulse of white jizz into the clear container. “Do it,” shouted a voice in the back.

“Drink your premature ejaculate, Paul,” Doctor Mazzeo said.

Still, in the throes of his orgasm, Paul brought the clear jar up to his mouth and poured his load out into his throat in one fell clump. The taste of salt and chlorine swam down his tongue and into his throat, and he swallowed with a light gag. His hand was still pumping up and down his penis, milking the last courageous drops out onto the paper towels on the floor.

Slowly, his mind came back to the raucous classroom and realized what he had done, what they had just watched him do. Under their laughter and cheering his skin turned even redder, and he finally let go of his softening dick. “Well Paul, you missed a few drops, but that’s okay right ladies? What a show.”

Paul put the dirty cup down on a desk and reached for his clothes before the cheer ended. He got dressed very quickly. He pulled the panties up to his waist and reached for his pants. “Paul, your testicle is out again,” the doctor said sympathetically.

Paul didn’t care, he pulled his pants up and buttoned and zipped them while the doctor said her final remarks. “Well, due to our patient’s extremely quick ejaculation we seem to have plenty of time to spare so we can review for our exam next week and I’m sure you all learned something today to boot. Paul, be sure to practice your new strategy. I recommend not trying this with whomever you may be sleeping with at the moment, let’s just keep this between us, and I’d like to see you next week for another session.”

Paul mumbled an agreement and slunk towards the door. “Oh and Paul?” The Doctor stopped him with her voice. He turned around and faced the class again; they were all opening their laptops, pulling out notebooks, and talking excitedly to each other. “You forgot this,” she shook the white stained shot glass-sized jar at the end of her outstretched arm.

Paul trudged back to her and took the jar stained with his semen. “Be sure to clean it and bring it next week,” was the last thing he heard as the door shut behind him.

The End.

 

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