My name is Anna, I'm a beautiful 32-year-old woman and I'm married to Luigi, who married me two years after his wife's death. Luigi is a captain in the Italian Navy, 49 years old, and still a handsome man. He had a son with his late wife, who is now 18 and obviously still in high school. We live in Milan. Since Luigi is often either at the port authority in Genoa or on missions with his ship, I spend several months at home with his son Lorenzo. I act as a mother to him, even though that can't be easy for a teenager like him. Lorenzo is a handsome young man, plays soccer, and is very private: he doesn't want me to see him even in his underwear at home, and I accept his choice to remain discreet. He's a shy person who doesn't even shower with his classmates, but does so at home. I, on the other hand, don't have many qualms about being around him, and he's seen me in my underwear a few times. I've noticed a certain interest in me, but he's a teenager in the throes of hormonal chaos, and I'm, after all, a stranger who's just been around the house.

One day, his father, a very authoritarian man, wants Lorenzo to see a urologist. Obviously, Lorenzo disagrees and initially refuses to go. His father manages to convince him with his authority, saying, "If you find a girlfriend, everything's better," he says. He schedules an appointment for the following week at the hospital, having a preferential lane for family members of the police. At the time, Luigi was on leave for 15 days and was supposed to accompany his son. The day before the appointment, however, my husband is called back to Genoa for an emergency. Naturally, whose turn is it to accompany Lorenzo? Me. This situation really piqued my imagination: a young man, almost certainly still a virgin, being examined by a doctor in the most intimate sphere: his penis. I absolutely didn't believe I could go in, but a fantasy had come to me that night: to attend Lorenzo's appointment and to be able to peek at his genitals and understand his embarrassment. But obviously I didn't believe it could happen.

The next day we arrived at the hospital. We didn't actually know who Lorenzo's doctor would be, so at the reception desk we told him we were here for a urological examination. To our enormous surprise (I don't know if it was mine or Lorenzo's), the clerk at the information desk told us: "Wing B, urology area, third floor, room 48; Dr. Piccini will call you directly into the waiting room." Lorenzo turned red and didn't say a word the entire way to the office; I, on the other hand, was excited and talkative, fantasizing that the boy would be examined by a woman. I chat to him about this and that, trying not to show my emotion. He simply asks for confirmation: "You're not coming in with me, okay?" I reassure him and tell him I'll wait outside, knowing it's going to be a delicate and embarrassing visit. We're a little early; in front of us is another gentleman of about 40, who confirms he's also waiting. The office door opens and a young woman appears, perhaps my age or a little older, with ash-blonde hair and dark glasses: a truly beautiful woman, not particularly tall and with a lively, smiling face. "Andrea Colangeli?" she exclaims, and the gentleman enters. I see Lorenzo very tense, he's shaking his legs nervously and biting the cuticles on his hands; I, deliberately to shame him, say: "Don't be nervous, I know it's embarrassing to show your private parts to a doctor, but that's her job; to her, you're just another patient to be examined..." I finish saying these words and the gentleman who had come in earlier comes out. He leaves silently. The door is ajar and I hear the doctor preparing the examination table, replacing the paper. I'm getting excited too, and I start shaking my legs out of nervousness. After about an interminable minute, the door opens again and the doctor calls: "Lorenzo Vitali?" After a moment's hesitation, he stands up and looks at me blankly, and I send him a look of encouragement and remain seated, sadly. But the situation was about to change. "Ma'am, I need a complete medical history. You'd better come in too." Lorenzo turns toward me in terror; I nonchalantly say: "Okay then, I'll come in too!" What a stroke of luck! My blood rushed to my brain, I was elated, and with a wide-eyed smile, I entered with Lorenzo, who didn't have the courage to protest, but his face revealed his disappointment. Then, in a normal tone of voice, so that Piccini could hear, I said, "Don't worry, I won't look at you." Then I look at the doctor, who smiles at me, and I understand that she's heard.

When I enter, I don't know why, I say, "I'm Lorenzo's stepmother, but if you need an adult, I'm here. "Mrs. Vitali, but I don't know your medical history as a child." The doctor nods, saying that it's fine anyway. The doctor immediately asks for the boy's general information, and he responds, a little hesitantly. She tells us that, as per the agreement with the officers' families, Lorenzo is entitled to a more thorough examination, including an ultrasound of his urinary tract and genitals. I stand there, nodding, and savoring the spectacle: the room was really small with the examination table next to the room, with his head resting against the wall; the examination table was right next to the room and had both sides free: on one side were some instruments, cotton wool, gauze, and disposable gloves, on the other side the ultrasound machine. From the desk, where I was sitting, I could have a truly privileged view of the examination table. On the opposite side of the room was a screen. The doctor begins to ask for Lorenzo's personal information, asking the reason for the visit: Lorenzo says that his father sent him to see if everything is okay, his tone is mild. He looked resigned, his voice a little shaky. Then the doctor began asking more intimate questions like: developmental age, about 12; sports played, soccer; was he a virgin, yes; did he masturbate, yes; urinary tract problems such as burning, no; pain or discomfort in the testicles, anus, or penis, no; significant sports injuries, no; anything to report about his health or genitals, no. Obviously, the answers weren't easy for him, especially in front of me, even though I was family. Throughout the questions, Lorenzo stared at the desk, never looking at the doctor, except fleetingly. "From what you're telling me, it seems like you're in excellent physical condition." "Now I'd like to examine you, so go behind the screen and come out wearing only your underwear and socks," she said. Lorenzo, I could see he was a little lost, poor thing, and he asked, "Am I wearing underwear?" and Piccini replied, "For a general exam, yes." My stepson comes in behind the screen and I hear him start to undress. To pass the time, I say, "I hope everything's okay with Lorenzo. You know, his father only has him as a son, and I'm fond of him too. I hope everything's okay down there." How good of me, I'd brought up the subject without seeming interested in the exam. The doctor reassures me, "Young men rarely have anything wrong, and besides, he's an athlete, everything should be fine," then adds with a little smile, which I thought was mischievous, "as you can see." Did the last sentence indicate what I might see of Lorenzo, or was it just a polite remark?

Shortly afterward, Lorenzo comes out, in his underwear and socks, the kind I'd never seen him before (except at the beach), but here the situation was different. I was hoping to see this young man's dick soon. His underwear already indicated a slight bulge, and the situation could certainly play nasty tricks. "Come on, Lorenzo, I'll weigh and measure you first," says Piccini. Lorenzo, a little red in the face, pretends I'm not there. "I'm 6'1" and weighs 175 lbs, very good. Now lie down so we can continue the exam." Lorenzo lies down and the doctor picks up the blood pressure monitor. "77/121, excellent blood pressure, like an athlete. Now sit on the examination table with your legs dangling to the side." The doctor positions herself on the side that blocks my view, the one facing the desk, and I understand she's starting to examine his head: eyes, ears, throat, nose; she tests his reflexes with a hammer; she has him lie back down, but still faces me, and he's still wearing his underwear. With the stethoscope, I understand she's listening to him from the front, then she has him sit down and checks his lungs; she has him lie back down to check his chest and stomach, and every now and then she asks, "Does it hurt?" and he asks, "No." She takes his legs and moves them a few times to assess his motor skills. I finally hope the time has come to expose his genitals, and Dr. Piccini says, "Now stand up for some small neuromotor tests: touch your nose with one hand and then the other, raise your knee (first one, then the other), and many other movements, obviously to assess your health." I'm starting to get bored and am about to take out my cell phone when the doctor asks Lorenzo to lie down again. Piccini calmly says to Lorenzo, "So now I have to check the health of your genitals. I'll start with a visual inspection and then a proper palpation of the testicles and penis, then we'll also deal with the prostate. As she says this, she's still standing in front of me, but at a certain point the doctor moves and goes to put on her gloves. Lorenzo is still motionless and watches Piccini walk around the bed, then looks at me. I look at him, then I start looking at my cell phone and with my gaze fixed on it I say "you'll see Lorenzo, the doctor will do it quickly and you won't feel any discomfort" The doctor was still with his back to me while he mShe puts on her gloves and says, "Yes, the urological exam doesn't have any unpleasant side effects, except for having to be naked in front of strangers." At that moment, she turns and we look at each other; she gives me a sly smile. This time, she's standing on the other side of the exam table, perhaps to show me everything?

"Now, please, Lorenzo, pull your briefs down to your knees." Lorenzo doesn't move; I understand he wants to know what I'm doing, so I pretend to look at the phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the boy reach for his underwear and pull them down. I take a quick look, I see a semi-erect cock with thick hair around it; here I am, at the desired moment! Now the doctor begins to manipulate her jewels, and I watch. Lorenzo is only looking at his cock, which seems to have become quite hard. I see her pulling down the skin of his glans, twice, then she examines his penis carefully, then moves on to examine his testicles, first one and then the other; Every now and then I also glance at Lorenzo, whose burgundy face is watching Piccini rummaging around in his private parts. Then the doctor says, "Everything's fine here. I see you're not having any erection problems. Now please raise your legs as if you were doing a back flip and bring your knees close to your shoulders." Lorenzo obeys immediately. He sticks his butt in the air, a very humiliating position for any man, let alone a boy in front of two beautiful women. Piccini lubricates her finger and inserts it to feel his prostate. Once it's removed, she says, "Everything's normal here too. Now lie back down so we can do the ultrasound." Lorenzo obeys, his penis still sticking out erect. Unfortunately, this time the doctor stands in front of me to use the ultrasound and I can't see anything anymore... She removes her gloves, coats the area with ultrasound gel, and proceeds. I thought it was all over by now, but I was wrong. "Now stay like this and come stand in front of me for the standing ultrasound," she says. Lorenzo gets up and, with his cock still like marble, stands five feet away from me. I can see him clearly now, and he looks at me too and realizes I can see him completely naked, with that embarrassing erection. The doctor continues a testicular ultrasound, asks him to cough, then says, offering him some napkins: "Dry yourself and get dressed, we're done." Then she sits down at the desk, and while she writes the report, Piccini and I talk about Lorenzo's excellent health, and he quickly goes back behind the screen to get dressed. When she leaves, she confirms his good health and bids us farewell. Lorenzo is still red in the face, even as soon as he leaves the doctor's office. I allow myself to say mischievously, "You should be happy, Lorenzo, that everything is working down there. The doctor was very thorough, and so am I," I say deliberately, "I think you're in excellent health from what I've seen today." Lorenzo, still silent, continues on his way, and we reach the car and head home. I think this will be a day Lorenzo and I will never forget for the rest of our lives.