“What seems to be the trouble with you today, Mr. Harris?” Dr. Walters asked his patient, checking the file attached to the clipboard in his hands.

“Well…” the patient replied squeamishly, twisting himself from side to side on top of the strip of crumply white paper that was stretched across the examination table he’d been seated on ever since the nurse told him to disrobe and put on the gown. “I, um, I can’t seem to get it up, doc.”

“Erectile dysfunction? Impotence?” the doctor replied casually, setting his clipboard down on the counter and then taking a seat on the little black leather stool in the center of the room.

“Yeah… I guess that’s it,” the patient responded, head cast toward the floor. It was a mortifying experience, to have to seek medical help to get an erection.

The doctor wheeled his little rolling stool across the floor and slid up to where Mr. Harris was seated on the examination table. “So, how long have you had this problem?”

“Well… my wife and I have been trying with no luck for the past couple of weeks. At first, we thought maybe it was just stress, so we took a vacation to the mountains. While we were there, she tried everything – handjobs, blowjobs, toys, vibrators, everything. She even tried watching porn with me, and that’s something she’d never done before. But nothing. Nothing, doc! Not even a tiny little lift. My dick just hangs there…” Mr. Harris was practically in a tither at this point, having recounted the sorrow of his tale.

“Mmm Hmmmph,” the doctor replied, tersing his lips and pondering the situation. “You’ve not taken any unusual medication? Or developed a problem with drinking?”

“No, sir,” Mr. Harris shook his head. “Nothing has changed in my diet either.”

“Well, according to the chart, there were no problems with your recent physical, and your bloodwork all came back clean. Physically, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with you. The problem must be psychological.”

“Are you sure, doc?” Mr. Harris responded. He so wanted the problem to be something that a pill could cure.

“Well, I can’t be certain. Let’s take a look.” He reached to the counter behind him and snagged two disposable rubber gloves out of a box on the counter, stretching them down over each finger-splayed hand with a loud snap, the doctor inched forward and eased his patient’s knees apart. There, under the thin little hospital gown, he found Mr. Harris’ full round balls and plump, limp dick.

With one hand, he gently lifted his patient’s balls while the other lifted his limp prick. He began massaging each testicle, gingerly, between his thumb and forefinger. Mr. Harris lurched at the sensation of the rubbery fingertips groping his balls.

“Did you wife try this?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, sir. She sure did.”

The doctor wrapped his whole palm around the patient’s sack, and began pumping his soft cock up and down with the other hand. Mr. Harris leaned back, lifting his gown and resting his shoulders and head against the wall behind him. The doctor pumped his dick rather vigorously for a few moments, but there was no response.

“Did your wife try this?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, sir. For quite a while, actually. No effect.”

“Hmmm…” Doctor Walters rolled his little stool even closer to the examination table, now placing