Betty, the attractive nurse

"Come on in," I said, recognizing the voice at the door. I'd been lusting after the nurse they'd assigned me since I first entered pre-op. Five-and-a-half feet tall with bouncy red curls and a bust you could appreciate even through her scrubs, Betty was any woman-loving patient's dream. Her Southern lilt and bright smile gave her the perfect cheerful bedside manner.

"How you feeling, Martin," Betty said as she quietly stepped into my hospital room. "Any pain, hon?"

"No, none," I said, smiling, my hand still resting placidly on my thick member.

"Well that's great, sweetie!" Betty chirped. "Can I just take a look at you, make sure you're doing okay?"

"Of course, Betty. I'm very happy for you to take care of me."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing?" the nurse chimed. "Remembering my name and everything!" Betty examined the monitor attached to your arm and checked the fluids in your IV bag. "Looks like you're doing great," she said.

"Well, that makes sense," I replied, "because I feel great."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. Then, after a short pause, she ventured, "So the surgery worked?"

I guess now's the time to find out, I thought.

"To be honest, I'm not sure, Betty. I mean, I can tell that I'm different physically. But I don't know if I got all the other benefits."

"Well, I guess we better check you out then," Betty said reassuringly.