You’re Getting A Vasectomy 2
A few days later, the doctor’s office called Sarah. Seemed strange, but she was given all the post-op instructions, so I let it go. She said she couldn’t hear and stepped into the next room. I could only hear her side of the call, which was emasculating enough.
She said, “Oh, that’s good. Yeah, that may have been my fault. Well, he was having trouble getting a sample, so I helped. I guess you’re a medical professional, so sharing is okay. He couldn’t get erect. He kept rubbing it, but it wasn’t responding, so I tried to give him a hand, tried dirty talk, and flicked it with my tongue. No, not a blow job, more like how you would go down on a woman since it wouldn’t get hard. Then finally, we had luck using my clit vibrator, but he still didn’t get very hard, so I wasn’t ready with the sample cup when he came. No, I’d say even what got on the vibe was clearer than before. Well, of course, we can if you think that will ensure accuracy. Okay, thanks, bye.”
I was beyond embarrassed when she walked back in. “Do you think you gave them enough details? What did they even ask to spur that conversation?”
Sarah replied, “They said the first sample came back sterile, but there wasn’t much of it, and it wasn’t as thick as expected. Lord knows I can relate to that. Just kidding, babe. So, anyway, I had to explain what happened. Which led to concerns that I may have tampered with the sample by giving you a blowjob. But, thankfully, when I explained that I flicked it like a girl’s clit they were okay with that. Also, they think you should abstain until the next sample.”
“Well, I figured we wouldn’t have sex until I got the all-clear,” I said.
Sarah replied, “That’s right, but they were also worried that the consistency might give a false negative if it was just due to frequent masturbation. So, no flicking the bean either, sweetie.”
“That’s great, so no anything for two weeks. I assume post recovery I can quit wearing the panties.”
“No, remember John, I mean Dr. Clem has to sign off on that, and that appointment isn’t until two weeks after you’re ruled sterile.”
“Hun, surely I’m fine at this point. At least to wear some briefs or boxer briefs.”
“I promise your manhood will survive one more month in panties.”
A few days later, my embarrassment got worse. As I went to get that day’s undies, I realized my drawer was empty. I called out, “Hey, Sarah. Do I have any clean undies in the laundry room? I’m out in here.”
She shouted back, “No. I haven’t washed our panties yet. Those must be hand washed. Just borrow mine. We’re the same size.”
Here I’ve been in panties well over a month, but they’d exclusively been the darkest colors and least feminine cuts. I couldn’t imagine what lay in her drawer. As I opened it, I realized I’d be in a feminine color as her least girly color was purple. I also realized I wouldn’t be wearing a bikini cut today as she seemed to have thongs and hipster panties. The hipsters seemed less bad, but that left me with pink lacey, floral white, or some more juvenile ones that said juicy.
I decided floral was my best option and slipped them on. They were a less stretchy pair and seemed to be compressing my already small penis even more and making my tight sack look like lips in them. I turned around just in time for Sarah to see me, snap a picture with her phone, and die laughing.
“Nice selection, boyfriend,” she laughed. “Or should I say ‘girlfriend’ because those seem to mold your package nicely? Damn, I think I make a bigger bulge in those than that.”
“Yep, thanks. I needed a kick while I was down.”
Finally, the second sample day arrived, and I was more than ready to cum. I quickly realized the same problem was still occurring. I was horny, turned on, but not hard. I asked Sarah for help which she seemed too happy to give.
She said, “Lay down on the bed. I want to skip to what worked. Here’s the cup hold it open in front.”
“How are you gonna use the vibe on my, my…”
“Your clitty? No, no clitty vibe today. We have to ensure a good sample is submitted. You aim for the cup and let me handle the rest.”
So I held the cup over my dick. She grabbed a vibratory that looked different and, with a devious smile, lubed it up and inserted it. I yelped and asked what she was doing but didn’t finish the sentence when she found my prostate. I started leaking immediately, and she continued for ten minutes until I felt like my dick was dry, heaving cum. Yet I’d had no orgasm.
The follow-up appointment was finally here. The doc said I was sterile as expected and then asked what questions I had.
“Can I get out of these panties?” I asked.
“I don’t see why not, pending a physical exam,” Dr. Clem said.
So I dropped my shorts, showing my wife’s pink flower thong (the laundry issue was becoming a regular occurrence by now.
Sarah said, “Aww, you wore your prettiest panties for the doctor. How sweet.”
While she and he both giggled. I was so embarrassed that I just pulled the thong to a very inadvertently feminine mid-thigh. The doctor felt around a bit but seemed perplexed. “We need to do some labs, but you can discontinue the tight underwear. I never said it had to be panties, but I can see why given the setup you got there. No offense, but not sure you could have found men’s underwear tight enough in the right places.”
“Thank God,” I said. “Why the labs?”
“Well, I was a little busy saving your life, but I think there were some unintended consequences. Have you had any trouble achieving erections?”
“A bit, but I’ve also been abstaining.”
Sarah chimed in, “Babe, I had to use a clit vibe to get the first sample, and you barely got a chubby. You never even got hard in the second sample when I used the vibe on your prostate.”
“Gotta trust the lady on this one,” the doctor said. “So, it sounds like your body thinks it doesn’t need to produce testosterone anymore. I’m guessing it’s due to your testicular location. I’m not sure what we can do about it, but I’m more concerned you could start to produce progesterone.”
Sarah said, enjoying this whole situation too much, “Hey, then you really can be my little girlfriend.”
So I give blood, and we head home.
Once we were home, Sarah was all over me before I could even speak. I went down on her (which I’ve become quite proficient at as she said there was no reason she shouldn’t orgasm for two months) and got ready to have sex, but my barely there dick was less than cooperative.
Sarah said, “Hold on.” She grabbed her silky black thong panties and started lifting my legs. I resisted, but she said, “Trust me.”
After she slipped them on me, we began to ‘scissor’ like a couple of lesbians, which felt incredible. We both came.
Sarah said, “Well, you don’t have to worry about having kids. But you’re not my husband in bed anymore.”
Looking down at my messy but flat front to a very skimpy thong, I could hardly argue with her.
To Be Continued…?
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