To this day, I can still vividly remember my twice a year visit to the pediatrician’s office for my check-up. The idea of having my temperature taken filled me with fear, anticipation, and embarrassment, which later in my adult years turned into memories of sexual gratification. I was a young boy growing up in the early 70’s, and at that time the method of choice for taking a temperature for all patients nine years and under was the old glass rectal thermometer, at least with the pediatrician I went to

I remember one visit in particular when I was about nine years old. This is when the fear of the pediatrician started turning into a warm and fuzzy feeling. My mom kept me home from school and made me pee into a bottle to collect the specimen for my morning appointment. Driving down to his office, I remember sitting in the back seat with knots in my stomach and I had no desire to even play with the toys in his waiting room. Finally my name was called and a female nurse who I now look back on as being young and attractive, probably an intern, escorted me into an exam room. She handed me a pair of blue pajama bottoms with some sort of cartoon characters printed on them. She instructed my to remove all of my clothes including my underwear, change into the pajama bottoms and then have a seat on the exam table. She said she would be back in a few minutes. I did as I was told, stripping naked and putting on the pajama bottoms, securing them around my waist by tying the drawstring into a bow. I then climbed up on the exam table, trying hard not to wrinkle too much the crisp, white paper, which was between the cushion on the exam table and me.

I sat there with my legs hanging over the side of the table waiting for the nurse to return, looking around the room. The one sight I will never forget was that of two glass thermometers in holders sitting next to the sink. The holders were about the size and shape of a large pill bottle and only about one inch of the glass rod was sticking out through the top. I assume the holders were filled with alcohol or something used to sterilize the thermometer it was holding. One thermometer had a red tip (rectal) and one thermometer had a blue tip (oral). I sat there with butterflies in my stomach wondering which one the nurse would use.

Suddenly, the nurse walked in and snapped me out of my daydream state. She was in charge of taking all the vitals before the doctor came in. This included, among other things, weight, height, blood pressure and temperature. She started by having me get on the scale and recorded my height and weight. It was back sitting up on the exam table when she checked my pulse and blood pressure, then looked at my eyes, nose and throat. She then walked to the other side of the room to put away the instruments she was using. I was still sitting up on the exam table with my legs hanging over the side when my fear turned to anticipation as she walked back over, reached in under the waistband of my pajama bottoms, pulled out the drawstring and untied the bow. She then loosened the waist of the pajamas and told me to lie down on my tummy. I slowly and obediently did as I was told. The young intern then slid my pajama bottoms down to just above my knees. I still remember the sensation I felt in my small cock as it rubbed against the paper on the exam table. There was no doubt which thermometer she would be using.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the nurse walked over to the sink, removed the thermometer with the red tip from its holder and rinsed it off under some running water. She then pulled a tube of lubricant out of a drawer and squeezed some out onto the silver, pear-shaped tip of the rectal thermometer. With the thermometer ready in her right hand she walked over and using the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, separated my butt cheeks by spreading her thumb and finger wider apart. Once the entrance to my rectum was stretched open, she slowly inserted the thermometer about three inches into my rectum, removed her thumb and finger and let my cheeks close in around the thermometer. I remember looking into a mirror, which was hanging on the wall across the room and seeing the red tip of the thermometer sticking out of my butt. The sensation of the cold, wet, lubricated thermometer being slid up into my warm anal passage sent shivers up my spine. The nurse then adjusted her position so that she was standing over me with her left hand was resting on the small of my back and her right hand resting firmly on my butt with the thermometer being held in place like a cigarette between her middle and forefinger, a position she held for a full three minutes. During that time, I lost the sensation of the cold thermometer as it warmed up inside of me, but the feeling of something there still remained as I tightened and loosened my butt up around the thermometer.

Three minutes later, she removed the thermometer, wiped it off with a tissue, read my temperature and recorded it on my chart. She then returned the glass rod to its holder by the sink, awaiting the next boy or girl. I was allowed to pull my pajama bottoms up, sit up on the table and wait for the doctor. Her job was now done. That was the last visit to the pediatrician where they used the thermometer with the red tip. I guess I graduated to the blue tip. I still look back on this today and wish I could relive the memory with an attractive young female nurse.

-Dan -