Clean Up

The showers in the Watchtower were awesome. Modern and roomy. Instant, piping hot water if you wanted it, in a powerful stream. It washed away any stress from your body almost better than having a beautiful Amazon jerk you off. Your erection bobbed at the thought as you shampooed your hair. Fresh apple scent. It was good to be able to use your hands again and you held the bottle up as you read the label, noted the list of natural ingredients. As sudds swirled down the drain you imagined what it would’ve looked like when Tina was in here… soaping herself up.

You closed your eyes, water running down your face, as you grabbed a firm hold of yourself. Your eyebrows went up though you still held your lids shut. Perhaps it was because it had been a long time since you indulged in a bit of ‘DIY’, but you sensed that something had changed about your tool. It was subtle, and you wondered if it was just a trick of your muscle memory, but your fingers just didn’t wrap around your shaft the same way they used to. Your dick seemed thicker in your hand. You looked down, not really noticing a visual difference at first but … maybe you had become a bit girthier than before.

Well into adulthood, you weren’t really supposed to have any more growth spurts so the initial conclusion was a tad alarming. The powerful showerhead helped to tamp down your worries though, its therapeutic **** pressing down your nape. Your almost automatic urge to stroke yourself was relaxing too. Perhaps this was just a side effect of living in space under this artificial gravity. You decided not to complain and indulged in a few more seconds of self pleasure/mental measuring before stopping yourself and shutting off the water. You had to save your loads for your patients after all.

==

You stepped back into the lab, washed, fed and ready to work. The view that greeted you upon the doors sliding open was lovely. Tina was facing away from you, bent over a desk, her mauve pencil skirt stretched over her now very prominent and alluring curves. Her black shirt had the sleeves rolled up, and seeing her lab coat hanging off the back of her chair she appeared to be a bit heated. For a couple of reasons. She was leaning her elbows on the desk, one hand to her forehead the other holding a phone to her ear.

“Fine. No why would I be upset? I said it’s fine, yes,” she stated plainly to whoever was on the line. She sounded calm but was terse. “Send it through. I’ll check up on you later.” Then she hung up and straightened, her sigh of frustration cooling the room. She sensed your approach and turned, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and adjusted her glasses. God she was gorgeous.

“Everything alright, Doc?” you asked, and she realised you had witnessed her abrupt end to that call.

“Everything is fine,” she said, emphasising the word. Noticing her own repetitive response she shook her head and half smiled to herself. “It is, I just wish she had given me more notice.” At this you could only offer a curious eyebrow and McGee remembered you weren’t actually part of the phone call she just had. “Ah that was Diana. There’s been a change of plans.”

“Is she not coming in for her dose?” you guessed, hiding your disappointment well.

“Not exactly. She’s to attend an allegedly very important gala event tonight,” explained the doctor, her arms crossed. There was a BLORP! sound from one of the consoles and Tina glanced at the message that popped up from the screen. “And it looks like you’re invited too.”

--

You weren’t sure how this came about, but you had been assigned another off-station mission. It seemed simple enough at least. As an ambassador for Themyscira, Diana had been invited to attend an important Gala in Houston. You were to accompany her as part of Wonder Woman’s attache.

“I didn’t know there was a Lexor Hotel in Houston,” you said, reading through the digital invitation on your screen again.

“Apparently LexCorp’s expanding their space programs,” Tina noted, the tone of her voice suggesting that she either didn’t believe this was the case or she didn’t like that it was true.

“And what does an attache do exactly?” you asked, the invitation also expanding your job description now. “Am I supposed to be like a bodyguard?”

“Wonder Woman doesn’t need a bodyguard,” Tina replied. “She needs her doses. So she needs her donor. I do think it’s safer for you to be on hand, so to speak, to administer for her during this party. The attache thing is a cover. Nobody knows who you are, remember?”

You nodded with understanding and a bit of excitement. You were headed to some sort of fancy dinner party with Wonder Woman! “So it’s time for a check up,” announced the doctor, slinging a stethoscope around her neck. “I’ll need to clear you and make sure you’re good for fieldwork.” That made sense, and you very much didn’t mind playing doctor with McGee. And being the good patient you were, there was information you felt you needed to share immediately.

“Actually there was something I wanted your help with,” you began, and Tina tilted her head and creased her brow.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, worried.

“Not exactly… do you have my bio files from before my time here?”

She pulled up a chair and sat at a console, tapping keys quickly to bring up what you requested.

“Of course, all of your statistics and vitals. All of your measurements. I had to check you were a healthy candidate,” she said, gesturing at the screen. Nodding, you looked over the data, a little unsure about how to bring it up but eventually settling on directness.

“My measurements… yeah. So… I think I’ve gotten… bigger,” you said. Tina looked up at you, not yet caught on.

“Bigger?”

“My… penis,” you added helpfully.

“Oh. Oh? Are you sure?” She arched a skeptical brow. It was a slightly odd claim but you were certain and nodded.

“I noticed in the shower this morning,” you went on. “I had use of my hands again and it felt… different.”

“Hmm…” Tina was thoughtful for a moment then pulled open the drawer. “Well then let’s take some measurements,” she suggested, a measuring tape in hand. Then she used her other hand to unceremoniously pull down your pants. You sprung up, too shocked by her abrupt move to provide more than a squeak of a reaction. “You’re still hard?” she gasped, your erection suddenly in her face, surprised even though she was the one who just pantsed you. She realised how thoughtless she had been to just expose you like that. “I’m sorry Doctor Doe,” she apologised, cheeks flushing. “I’m just so used to-”

“It’s okay,” you assured her quickly, half chuckling. “I’m used to it too.” Now she seemed more embarrassed than you, but McGee deftly shifted back into her professionalism and took a good look the presented erect penis.

“Your appearance doesn’t seem abnormal,” she noted, scrutinizing you from different angles. “Aside from the erection, which will make taking measurements easier, I don’t see any extra swelling. Do you mind if I…?” She offered her open palm and you tried not to smile too widely. With your nod of assent she started to handle your throbbing hot tool, with the same clinical familiarity she had done this morning outside of the showers. Whether she meant to or not, the way she studied your genitals was extremely pleasurable. She ran her fingers up and down your shaft a couple of times as she made sure you were intact, seemingly wanting to measure you the old fashion way first.

Her fingers made their way to your balls, the doctor feeling the skin then testing their weight. “Hmm… how do you feel here?” she asked, still cupping your nuts. It felt amazing, but you tried to concentrate beyond her silky touch and thought about your testicles. Now that she was focusing on them, you did imagine they felt a bit heavier than usual. “Fuller, I think.”

You sucked in a breath at the cold sensation of the flexible measuring tape up against your tight skin.

The doctor measured you from base to tip, then from the perineum and down again. She reached over and tapped in some inputs to the console before returning to your crotch. The tape was wrapped around your mid-shaft as she assessed your thickness. Once she got that number she turned back to the keyboard but kept hold of you with one hand, fingers wrapped firmly around your base. Your breathing was controlled but you were curling your toes. You saw the big bead of precum form into a fat droplet that after a slight shudder dribbled down from the tip of your meat onto Tina’s hand. She had to have felt it, but she didn’t take her eyes off the screen or her hand off your cock. She definitely gave you a little squeeze.

“You were right,” she said. “Your length has increased 2% and your girth 7% since arriving at the Watchtower. This is not insignificant.” It was hard to tell from her tone if this was good or bad news. “Perhaps it’s from being in space. Or the artificial gravity,” she postulated,thinking deeply, and still gripping your hot hard rod. “What’s wrong?” the doctor asked when she saw you were sweating. Again she had the realisation that her handling of your member had been somewhat cavalier, and noted that you were even harder now than before. “Well.. since I’m here we should take a sample. Your mission isn’t for a few more hours, and I should like to take another measurement of your load. See if it’s increased in volume with any significance.” She was already starting to stroke you as you nodded.

“Okay… that’s a good idea. Thanks doc. And it’ll be faster if you...mmm..,” you breathed, not bothering to finish the rest of the excuse since she was already well under way. Your shoulders relaxed. Tina massaged the tenseness from you with long, practiced strokes and keen focus. Without letting go of your cock she rolled her chair over a little so she could reach for and grab a cum receptacle and then put it next to her on the console. She was at the ready.

“There’s a lot of precum,” she noted, thumbing your tip as it seeped out and spreading it along your shafter with each smooth jerk. “I’m not sure if it’s more than usual though.” She shifted her chair in closer, bringing you nearer to her chest, and she used her other hand to gently massage your balls with her fingers. The combination of workings and her looking up at you was incredible. “How does it feel? Any difference in sensation?” Her intent appeared scientific on the surface, but there was a breathiness to her voice that was making your knees weak. She started to slightly twist her hand as she stroked you, her grip feeling tighter which made you grimace at her intensity.

“It feels good… feels normal… feels really good,” you replied, realising you were panting. The doctor moved her other hand up and began to stroke you with both hands now and you tried not to lose your mind. This was new, but she didn’t make any comment about it. She just acted like this was just another regular extraction. But the way she squeezed you was adding amazing friction to the handjob to the point that it edged against discomfort, yet there was a new intimacy between you that compounded the pleasure instead.

“I should have grabbed some lube,” she thought out loud, looking down at your cock that she was manipulating expertly. And you watched her as her cheeks shallowed, the sound of her tongue moving inside her mouth and around her teeth heard through her puckered lips. Then she dribbled some saliva on your swelling cock. It hit the tip of your organ and you both watched it, then she spread the glob with her hands down your crotch. A few seconds later she spit on you again, stroked it into your skin, then spit a third time. Your heart was thumping, witnessing the doctor lubricate you with her own spit. You groaned in appreciation and that only seemed to urge Tina on. She twisted and stroked your bigger, thicker cock.

It didn’t take much longer. Not after she just spit all over your dick for the first time unprompted. You gulped for air then warned your colleague of your impending orgasm.

“Doc… You’re gonna make me burst!”

Your words made Tina stare up at you for a couple of seconds, her cheeks pink. She was luckily quick to recover and snatched the flask up with a fast hand then held it up to your bulging head. Her switch of grip on your cock did nothing to slow you down as she stroked you into the opening, and with a grunt you did burst. The glass almost rang with the **** of your heated ejaculation and you threw your head back, moaning obscenely. McGee needed to grip your spasming member with deliberate focus, wrangling your pulsing thing as you spewed thick spurts into the receptacle. She ensured none of it spilled while stroking almost the full length of your shaft. Once you were finally spent she let you go, pulling the glass back and her eyes widened at the amount she had extracted from you.

“This is a lot,” she noted, raising the flask up. You had to agree… the volume of it seemed to have increased by, from your eye, at least 30%. When she put her other hand at the bottom of the receptacle for support her eyes widened. “And it’s so hot.” She could feel the heat of your collected semen on her palm through the glass.

You pulled your pants back up and watched the doctor go off to plug your sample into the diagnostics console. Stepping up next to her you both waited as the analyser began its process. McGee’s hands were on her hips, fingers still shiny from her spit and your precum, but she was more interested in the readings than cleaning up. “Oh, John,” she remembered something and turned to you. “We need to get you measured.”

You frowned, confused.

“Didn’t we just do that?”

“No,” she laughed. “I mean you need to be fitted for a tux.”