He's clean as a whistle.

'Mom, I...' he began, still unable to quell his embarrassment despite his mom's insistence. 'No, no, of course not. Rachel's the only... the only girl I sleep with. And she's... she doesn't have anything, like that.'

'Oh, John,' his mother laughed. 'I told you, you do not need to feel ashamed around me. And I was just asking. Even if you did, I wouldn't judge you.'

He sighed, standing back up straight now that the pain had somewhat dissipated. He looked down at his mother, only slightly shorter than him, remembering how she'd always said he got his height from his father.

'So, if that's not the case,' she paused, as if he'd admit that he'd lied about having some kind of infection or disease, 'then I'll ask you another question. And remember, John, I'm your mother. Don't be embarrassed, I just want to help.' He inhaled, preparing himself for how seemingly inappropriate her next question would be.

'I'd like you to show me. Can you do that?'

John froze, wondering if he'd heard incorrectly. His mother had just asked him to... no, there was no way. 'Mom, wha... what?'

'I want you to show me, John. If you show me, and there's anything I can see that might tell me what the problem is, I can help. Save you a trip.' She examined his appalled expression. 'I know, it's not exactly how you expected to spend your morning. I get that it's weird. But, honey, I'm your mother, and I want to help you, that's all. If you show me what's wrong, maybe I can do that.'

John minutely shook his head, his mouth hanging open, unable to even comprehend the situation.