Balls to It.

A doctor squeezed my testicles today. I’ll do anything for attention.

I should clarify that this was for health reasons. I wasn’t about to ‘put out’. I’d spotted a suspicious lump earlier in the week, and thought it would be best to seek a professional opinion. There’s nothing like advice from an expert. Of the whole human body, I mean; not just dangly bits.

(His name was Doctor Cox though, so I’d gone to the right place.)

While I’ve been examined before and feel comfortable with it (but not too comfortable), there’s no ignoring the fact that it’s an unusual situation. It’s not often that I drop my trousers within minutes of meeting somebody - and I seldom do it in an office. Also, few men have touched my genitals. None of them recreationally.

Of course, me being me, I made a joke. As he sat on a small stool at my feet, adjusting his rubber gloves while I unfastened my belt, I said, ‘Typical day’.
‘It is for me,’ he laughed.
‘Perhaps it’s time to get a new job,’ I replied.
‘Oh, it’s too late for that.’

It’s hard to think of banter when your boxer shorts are around your ankles, but I did my best. If I wasn’t married, I would have asked him out for a drink. Oh, and by the way, I had nothing to worry about.

Any men with similar concerns should see their doctor, or visit www.testicularcancerawarenessfoundation.org. Or both.



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