The Four Hour Erection
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When I wrote a story called "The Two Day Erection" the same thing
happened that happens often: while I was writing about one
idea, another one ran through my mind too. This story is that
other idea. If you've read "The Two Day Erection" then you'll
recognize the characters in this story. Except that they're
not necessarily the same characters. So don't jump to any
Dr. Angela Webber ushered Mr. Pinkney out of the exam room.
"So I just soak it in hot water at night before I go to bed," said the
"Hot as you can stand it, and mix in some Epsom salts," said
Angela. "You'll sleep a lot better. That's a
"I'll hold you to it," said the old man, peering at her.
"What do I get if you're wrong?"
"What do you get?" She was puzzled.
"A date?" The old man cackled and slapped his
thigh. Thomas Pinkney was in his nineties and could barely
walk. Angela thought it was cute that he still had an
interest in sex.
She was used to that. While she was growing up she'd always
thought of her good looks and killer body as a curse, primarily because
she was interested in science and math as a teenager, while every man
within sniffing distance was interested only in getting her naked and
on her back. She'd avoided that by virtue of spending all her
time on advanced courses that were designed to - and did - get her into
medical school. She didn't have a lot of friends, but dreams
of being a doctor soothed her whenever she felt alone or neglected by
And she DID love being a doctor, despite the fact that it was very
different than she had envisioned. She didn't even mind that
her first practice was in the hill town of Turkey Hollow North
Carolina. Because of the staggering debt she had incurred in
medical school, the only way she could pay it back was by working in an
under-served, rural area. And Turkey Hollow, nestled in the Blue Ridge
Mountains, was the poster child of under-served, rural areas. If she
hung in there for five years, almost all of her debt would be forgiven.
Having lived her whole life in the city, she had no idea how to pick a
place to work, so she just put her finger down on the list in the
placement office and took what fate handed her.
Actually, other than the fact that there was very little to do for
entertainment, now that she didn't have to spend all her time studying,
she liked little Turkey Hollow. She hadn't thought air could
be that clean, and smell so fresh. The people were a little
standoffish, but she didn't mind that. She'd never had a lot
of friends, after all. The cost of living was dirt cheap and, while men
still glanced her way, they were a lot more polite about it than the
men she'd been around before this.
On top of that she had a wonderful mentor in Doctor Robert Kimble, who
was old enough to be her father but insisted she call him
Bob. Even after only a few months she was convinced he knew
everything under the sun about medicine. The clinic didn't
have all the latest and greatest equipment, but Bob taught her how to
do things the old fashioned way. Nine times out of ten it was
just as fast and just as good as some technique newer and much more
So she settled in and was happy with her new life. Hill
people weren't demanding about things. If you could help
them, they were appreciative. If you couldn’t help
them, then they lived with that fact and did the best they could.
Then, just five months into the job, Bob had fallen ill. He
was going to require gall bladder surgery and would be out of the
office for weeks. Angela panicked, until he put his arm
around her and told her she'd do fine.
"You're my doctor too," he said softly. "So buck up, and
carry on. I'm only a phone call away if you want to consult."
Today was, in fact, her very first day without him there to lean
on. Still, things had seemed almost maddeningly normal thus
"What's next, Holly?" she asked, turning toward the reception desk.
Holly Cranston was a Turkey Hollow girl, born and bred, and the only
time she'd ever been away from town was to go stay with her uncle to go
to the Vo-Tech over in Durham. It seemed that Doctor Kimble
had saved her father's life after an accident in the mine, and becoming
an LPN was how she repaid him. She was also the receptionist,
bookkeeper, and any other title that was needed at a given moment.
Holly had a great attitude, partly, in Angela's opinion, because she
had come back home and married well. Danny Cranston was a
soft spoken young man who brought Holly lunch every day, and then
stayed to eat with her. Holly brought home the bacon, and
Danny stayed home and took care of their little girl. They
lived with Holly's mother, who babysat each day during lunch.
"I got a live one for you," said Holly softly, but with a gleam in her
eye. Angela's eyes automatically went to the waiting area,
where there were only two people, sitting side by side. The
pinch-faced woman looked worn, like most older women looked in this
town, having worked hard her entire life. The strapping young
man sitting next to her brought thoughts of Paul Bunyan to mind.
"Mrs. Fisher?" called Holly. "The doctor will see you now."
Both of them stood up.
"Where's Doc Kimble?" asked the woman, looking suspiciously at Angela.
"He had to have an operation," said Holly. "Don't that beat
all? This here is Doctor Webber."
The woman shuffled over to Angela and peered into her face.
"You're a real doctor?"
"I am," said Angela, smiling.
"Good 'nuff," said the woman. "Come on, Dub. Let's
get this taken care of."
"Ma," moaned the young man, still seated. "She's a woman, Ma."
"Dub, don't make me call you twice," warned Mrs. Fisher.
He stood, and the Paul Bunyan image firmed in Angela's mind.
He had to be at least six-three, and looked like his arms were made of
Angela looked at Holly and raised an eyebrow. Holly shrugged
and said "She'll tell you all about it."
In the exam room, Angela offered Mrs. Fisher a chair, looked at dub,
pointed at the exam table and said "Have a seat there." Mrs.
Fisher kept her feet, ignoring the chair.
"So," said Angela, somewhat at a loss for words. What seems
to be the problem today?"
"Don't know if there IS a problem," said the older woman. My
cousin Mildred has one of them tee vee things at home, and t'other
night she was a-talkin' about this commercial for that Viagra
stuff? Anyways, she said they was saying that iff'n a man has
a 'rection for more than four hours to see a doctor, cause it kin be a
Angela looked at Dub. He was the only person in the room who
might have taken Viagra, though that was ridiculous. He could
only be nineteen at most.
"Ma," he complained. "It goes away after a while."
"And sometimes it don't," countered his mother. She looked at
Angela. "So how bad is it if he has a 'rection for more than
Angela looked at Dub. "You're taking Viagra?"
"No, he ain't," said his mother.
"I'm confused," admitted Angela, looking back at the boy, and trying to
figure out why his mother would know information of such an intimate
nature. "Can you start at the beginning?"
Mrs. Fisher clenched her jaw, but then started talking.
"We have to heat our water for baths on the stove. So we
got's to share, you know? And whenever he's in there, and his
sisters go in to get in with him, he gets a 'rection. An it
don't go down, cause they like to tease him, even if I beat 'em, cause
they think it's funny. Least ways I HOPE they just think it's
funny. They's more than once I smelled excited girl at
bedtime, and that was AFTER the baths.
Angela clenched her own teeth, primarily to keep her jaw from dropping
open. She reminded herself that she was in the hills now, and
that customs were different. She tried to concentrate on the
medical issue, rather than the social ones. She turned to Dub.
"And sometimes these erections last longer than four hours?"
His face flamed red and he ducked his eyes. "Yes Ma'am."
"Even if you mas-" She stopped and darted a look at the boy's
mother. She was completely out of her depth here.
She knew, academically, that masturbation was considered a terrible
thing in some subcultures. She had no idea if this was one of
them or not.
"So is it really bad?" asked Mrs. Fisher. "'Cause we cain't
afford for Dub to be down."
Because it put her in scholastic mode, which soothed her, Angela jumped
at the explanation.
"If blood is trapped in the penis too long it can clot," she
said. "That can deny some parts of the organ fresh blood and
oxygen. If tissue dies, it can result in gangrene."
Mrs. Fisher's reaction was nothing short of astonishing.
"You can't cut my boy's peter off!" She almost swooned.
"What?" Dub sounded like something had already been cut off,
rending him a soprano, instead of the baritone he really was.
"That's only in extreme cases," said Angela quickly. "If he's
not taking anything to artificially maintain an erection, it should go
flaccid on its own."
"He ain't taking anything," said Mrs. Fisher firmly. "Them
girls just won't leave him alone is all. I been tryin' to
avoid this, but as fer as I kin tell, what he really needs is to learn
how to make it go down on his own."
Angela blinked. "He doesn't know how?"
The woman looked at Angela. "His pappy died in the mine when
he was only eleven. He's been the man of the house ever
since. Twin sisters, and no brothers." She
blinked. "And I for sure as hell ain't a-gonna teach him
"You want me to TEACH him how to ..."
"I fer sure as hell don't want nobody cuttin' off his peter neither,"
said Mrs. Fisher, undaunted. "He ain't used it much yet, but
he'll need it one of these days. Once the girls get a couple
of years older they'll be off makin' babies, I 'spect. I just
need to make sure they don't start on that with Dub here, afore they
leave home. So he needs to know how to get rid of them boners
of his so they ain't no good to the girls. Then maybe they'll lose
The door opened and Holly stepped in.
"We'll take it from here, Mrs. Fisher," she said briskly.
"Don't you worry a bit. When he leaves here today he'll be up
to snuff on the issue at hand."
The woman nodded, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for
someone to say things like that. "Issue at hand," she said
under her breath. Then her worn face beamed briefly, showing
a smile that was obviously rare. "That's kinda funny," she
said. She snorted, went serious again and, without a word,
left the room.
"I was listening," said Holly, in explanation of why she had burst in.
"This is ridiculous," spluttered Angela. "We can't teach him to ... "
"Why not?" asked Holly. "It IS to avoid a medical
complication, after all."
"Having an erection is not a medical complication," said Angela
"It is if it lasts longer than four hours," said Holly smugly.
Angela’s eyes narrowed. "You WANT to do this!" she
"I'm not doing anything," said Holly firmly. "I'm married, and you're
the doctor." She turned to Dub, who was sitting there looking
on interestedly. "We'll be right with you, Dub.
Just be patient."
Angela's eyes jerked to her ... patient. She had forgotten he
was there. Something occurred to her. Mothers
didn't always know everything. Her own mother never knew that
Angela, who had a completely normal load of hormones when she was a
teenager, had rubbed off like crazy under the covers most nights.
"I'm sure you already know how to masturbate," she said, her voice
"If that's got something to do with fishing, I might," he said
helpfully. "I kin find just about any kind of bait you want,
and I know where to use it and all that."
"No," said Angela, impatiently. "MASTURBATE. With
"I ain't using my willy for no kind of bait, Ma'am," he said
firmly. "And I ain't gonna let nobody cut it off neither."
"She's talking about whackin' off, Dub," said Holly, smiling
slightly. "You know ... spanking the monkey?
Chafing the weasel? Choking the chicken?"
Angela's jaw dropped before she could stop it. She stared at
"I HAVE wrung the necks of a might few chickens," said Dub, looking
confused. "But we don't have no monkeys or weasels
around out place."
"Dub," said an exasperated Holly. "Don't you ever rub your
pecker up and down when it's stiff?"
"You mean in the bathtub?" He brightened.
"Sure. Feels mighty nice too."
"Yes, that!" said Holly. "But don't you ever do it in
private, maybe in your bedroom?"
"I don't do nothing in private," he said. "We don't have
private at our house. They's only three rooms. Ma
sleeps in one. Me an the girls sleep in another, an nobody
sleeps in the other one, 'cause that's where the stove and the table
and chairs and that kind of thing is."
"You sleep with your sisters?" squeaked Angela.
"Where else would I sleep?" he asked. "I help keep 'em warm
in the winter time."
"I do not believe this," sighed Angela.
"I'm tellin' the truth, Ma'am," said Dub, obviously
distressed. "I swear on Tillie Walker's grave I am."
"Who's Tilly Walker?" asked Angela, blinking.
"Never mind," said Holly. "This isn't a problem.
"We just show him what to do and send him on his merry way."
"As I said, you're the doctor." Holly grinned.
"Don't worry. I'll be here for moral support.
"There's nothing moral about this," grumbled Angela. She
leaned close to Holly. "I've never done this!" she
whispered. "I don't know what to do either."
It was Holly's jaw that dropped then. She frowned, and then
smiled. "Don't tell me you're a virgin," she said.
"That's none of your business!" snapped Angela.
Holly covered her mouth. "A package like that, and it's never
been opened? She held up a hand as thunderclouds gathered on
Angela's face. "Okay, okay. There's nothing to
it. I'll help you explain it, and then he can take it from
there." She turned to Dub. "All right, young
man. The doctor is going to tell you what to do make your
erection go away the next time you have one."
"Like now?" he asked hopefully.
Both women stared at him. Holly asked carefully "Do you have
an erection now, Dub?"
"Yes Ma'am," he said.
"Why?" asked Angela. Holly snorted, but Dub stole her thunder.
"It always happens whenever I'm around a purty woman," he
said. His eyes flicked back and forth between Holly and the
Doctor. "Two purty women," he corrected, apparently afraid
one of them might be offended if she wasn't included in the category.
"Why thank you, Dub," cooed Holly.
"You're welcome," he said dutifully.
"Oh good grief," said Angela. "This is ridiculous.
Drop your pants."
Dub stood, his head only half a foot from the ceiling tiles.
He unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down. He wasn't
Both women froze.
"Oh my WORD!" sighed Holly.
It can't be real," whispered Angela.
"He doesn't need a doctor ... he needs a veterinarian!" yipped Holly.
"What's wrong?" asked Dub, looking down at his crotch.
What all three people in the room were now staring at was a stalk,
reminiscent of a hickory sapling, stripped of its bark, and just a
little shy of being the right size to fashion a policeman's billy club
from. The white shaft jutted from a forest of thick brown
hair. It leaned to one side, and slightly upwards, but was
otherwise straight as an arrow.
"It's enormous!" said Holly.
"It is?" asked Dub.
Angela leaned forward, peering to see if there was a seam
somewhere. She was half convinced this whole thing was some
prank, done in extremely poor taste. After thirty seconds of
inspection, though, she had to admit the thing was obviously
real. Nothing had been glued on or slipped over the real
thing. Her eyes fell to the testes under it. They
were dark brown and swollen. She'd never seen any that large
or that swollen.
"Are you in pain?" she asked.
"No Ma'am," he answered.
She remembered bits and pieces of both formal education and school yard
lore. The term "blue balls" flitted through her
mind. She'd always thought that boys had invented the alleged
malady to get girls to do something out of pity. If this
young man had never ejaculated though, based on those testes, she could
believe the condition both existed and was, in fact, painful.
Except that he said he wasn't in pain.
"Are your testes always that full?" she asked.
"Your nuts," said Holly.
His hand went to feel them, as if he couldn't see past his
penis. "They feel all right to me," he said. "Is
"You're just hung like a horse," said Holly. "That's all."
He laughed. "No I ain't. I seen plenty of horse
dicks, and they're at least twice as long as mine. Maybe
"Where's a tape measure?" asked Holly.
Angela whirled. "You are NOT going to measure that thing!"
"Party pooper," said Holly, grinning.
The door of the outer office opened and closed. Holly reached
for the knob of the exam room door. "I'll just go see who
"You can't leave me here alone with him!" yipped Angela.
"Oh grow up," said Holly. "You're a doctor. He
needs to learn to beat off. How hard can that be?"
She opened the door, slipped out, and closed it firmly.
Perhaps it was the fact that she was rattled. Maybe there was
something else going on. After all, deep in her subconscious,
she had all the needs and urges that any other woman had.
She'd just never let them out. She'd been too busy.
It would have been relatively simple to say "Dub, grab your peter and
stroke it like you were washing it in the bathtub." Then,
while he did so, she could have urged him to keep rubbing until the
desired result was achieved.
But, flustered as she was, that's not what she did. Instead,
she sat on the short steel stool in front of the patient ... and
reached for the thing that so fascinated her.
Education is the basis for understanding, and understanding is the
basis for making the best choices. So Education is a good
thing. In the next few minutes there was a LOT of education
going on in that exam room.
The first thing Angela thought of as her hand closed around the warm,
throbbing shaft was that it felt completely different than she expected
it to. It looked so cold and hard that she expected to feel
cold and hard. It was neither. There was an
undeniable firmness to it, of course, but it gave slightly where her
fingers pressed into it, and it was so warm that her first thought was
that he might have a fever. Her second thought was
astonishment at how good this thing felt in her hand. Her
third thought was that, while she knew it was larger than normal, it
felt like her hand fit it perfectly. She gripped a little
tighter and moved her hand up and down experimentally several times.
The ONLY thing that Dub thought of was that her hand felt about a
thousand times better than his own did when he gripped it. A
thousand times is a lot.
"Ohhhh wow," he sighed.
"Does that feel nice?" asked Angela, and then felt stupid
immediately. Of course it felt nice. Still his
breathy "Oh yeah!" made her feel good in ways she hadn't felt good in a
It was then she realized what she was doing. She let go of
the thick stalk like it was on fire and leaned back. She felt
her face heat up and knew she was blushing.
"Uh ... well ... that's what you're supposed to do," she mumbled.
"Like this?" he asked. His big hand went to grip his
prick. He skinned it up and down the shaft a couple of times."
"Yes," she said, staring at the tip.
He let go and leaned back on both hands. "It feels a whole
bunch better when you do it," he commented.
"I really shouldn't," she sighed.
"Because I'm a woman and you're a man and this is strange enough as it
is," she said.
"But it feels so much better when you do it," he complained.
"Dub, you're going to have to do this whenever you get an
erection. I won't be there to do it for you then, now will I?"
"You're here now," he suggested hopefully.
She ignored him. "Now keep rubbing it up and down until I
tell you to stop."
He looked unhappy, but reached for his rod again. His hand
settled into a relatively smooth rhythm.
"Does feel good," he commented calmly.
"And you've really never done this?" she asked, more to make
conversation than anything else.
"Just in the bathtub," he said. "It's always felt good, but
it don't take hardly no time to get it clean."
"Well we're going to go longer today," she said.
"I can see why," he sighed. "That feels REALLY good!"
"Excellent," she said. "You'll keep doing this until you have
an ejaculation. Semen will come out and then your penis will relax."
It sounded academic and, truth be told, Angela was thinking about it
academically, for the most part. She was fascinated by
watching the slab of meat be manipulated, but she expected something
fairly academic in the end.
Dub, on the other hand, didn't know what was coming at all.
Such things normally being the product of instinct though, as it felt
better and better, he speeded up, until he was flailing away at what
Mamma referred to as his "root".
"Damn," he panted. "It just feels better and
better. It's even starting to hurt, kind of, except it's a
"That means you're close to ejaculating," said Angela, leaning
forward. "Keep going.
The culmination of her efforts was, in fact, academic, but it was
academic in the same way that Newton's discovery of gravitational
theory was academic. Both had spectacular consequences.
To put it in the most simple frame of reference, Dub's face scrunched
up and his penis produced semen. The problem was that Angela,
who had never actually SEEN an ejaculation before, was expecting it to
be the half ounce that the books in med school had said was
normal. She also assumed it would dribble out of the tip of
the penis which, were that penis ensconced snugly in a vagina, would
have been the perfect outcome. The half ounce of semen would
be deposited politely at the cervical mouth, and the sperm in the semen
would then do what sperm were supposed to do. It never
occurred to her that, considering his abnormal size, his ejaculation
might be other than normal as well.
Her first clue, and most definitely part of her education that day,
came when, for a split second, her eyes registered a stream of thick
white erupt from the slit in the end of his penis. After that
split second, she couldn't see anything except a world that was
suddenly foggy. Her mind registered the fact that what had
been WAY more semen than she was expecting ... had just hit her in the
face and splashed in both eyes. Her head went up and back,
instinctively, but it was too late. Then the second spurt splatted
against her upper lip where it made a seal on her upper teeth.
Her hands came up as she lurched backward with a shriek. Her
body overbalanced on the short steel stool and she fell backwards to
land with a solid thump on her back. All the air in her lungs
blew out of her lips in a rush.
Dub, who had just about decided he'd done something wrong, because his
penis suddenly felt like it was on fire, was both shocked and surprised
to feel something soothing race through it. That something
soothing leapt out of the tip of his cock like he was in a pissing
contest and impacted the doctor's face right between her blond
eyebrows, where the top of her nose was. Before he could
react to that, though, another stream of the white stuff was
launched. It felt just as good coming out. He
watched that shot strike her lips and then all hell broke loose as she
screeched and fell backwards. He saw a cloud of droplets that
looked just like his white stuff blast upwards from her mouth.
He let go of his dick, even though he wanted to keep rubbing it, and
lurched forward, passing by the stool to stand over the
doctor. His intent was to help her up, but she wasn't trying
to get up. Instead her mouth was opening and closing like a
fish out of water. Her fingers were scrabbling at her eyes,
wiping his stuff out of them and she was shaking all over like she was
having a fit.
"You okay?" he asked fearfully.
The door to the room flew open and Holly, wild-eyed and brandishing a
stapler, burst in. Her eyes took in Dub, standing over
Angela, his horse cock still naked and hanging, dripping onto the
doctor, who was gurgling and wiping what looked like cake frosting from
"She fell down!" said Dub helpfully.
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