I won’t tell what age I was when this happened but my mom sat me down one evening and asked me why the sheets on my bed were always stained and sticky in the morning. Naturally, I went very, very red. Mom acted all concerned. I don’t want to embarrass you, honey, she said. I just want to be sure there’s nothing wrong. She made it sound like it was a mystery and I went along with that. I don’t know, mom, I lied. Well, she said, I’m puzzled. I think I need to fix and appointment for you to see Doctor Martin. I protested it wasn’t necessary but two days later, mom and I were sitting together in his office.

    Mom explained the problem while I sat in my chair and squirmed. He came straight to the point and said it sounded to him like semen emissions which probably wasn’t at all a problem depending on the quantity. Oh mom said, it’s every morning and there always seems to be such a lot of it. I noticed Martin’s lips pursed in a slight smile when she said that.

   I guess we’d better take a look, Doctor Martin said, and told me to take my clothes off. No fuss now, he added, as he took in my horrified look. I never let mom see my naked and she was right beside me. There was no option but to obey and I reluctantly pulled my clothes off. He started with the routine stuff with the stethescope and my pulse. Then he made me turn round and bend over and pull my buttocks apart so he could check out my asshole. I started to refuse but mom quickly stepped in and said soothingly just do it, honey. Christ, I really hated both of them at that moment.

    When he’d done, I turned to face him again. He reached out and took my penis in his hand, just cradling it in his palm, and asked me if I masturbated a lot. He masturbates, my mother asked, looking and sounding totally innocent. Martin shook his head slightly at her and questioned whether it was every night, perhaps several times ? Darling ! mom said. By this stage, I was totally burning and trying really, really hard not to get the erection I could feel coming on with my cock in his hand. Of course I failed. In a few seconds, I was standing fully nude in front of my mother, who was smiling sympathetically, with my hard on being gently squezed in a guy’s hand as he rolled my foreskin back.

    Martin ignored me. I think we need to go for a sperm test he told my mom. He gave her a glass dish and told her to take me into a curtained cubicle at the side of the office. I don’t want to do this, I said, almost in tears of rage and humiliation. The bastard was going to make me masturbate right there in front of my mom. I wanted to die ! Don’t be silly darling, she said. She glanced down at my hard on. You’re ready to go and now we know you masturbate, she said pushing me toward the cubicle. Once inside, she said she’d hold the dish and I just wanted to get it over with. I stood in front of her and began to masturbate, trying to cum as quickly as I could. It still took two or three minutes, although it felt like for ever, before I ejaculated several spurts of milky sperm into the dish while she murmured approvingly.

    Somehow, we got out of there, me seething with shame and mom chattering innocently about what a good idea it had been and how relieved she was that there was nothing wrong. I shut her off saying I didn’t want to talk about it any more and we didn’t. But when I went to bed that night, I found a box of tissues placed on my pillow and it’s been a fixture ever since.