I have to admit, I was embarrassed by my problem, but a man has to do whatever it takes when it comes to his love life. As I waited in that closet of a room, sitting on crinkly paper, I knew what the doctor would say - erectile dysfunction. I knew exactly what my problem was, but I didn’t know how to cure it.

The doctor knocked on the door before entering, he sat in his chair on wheels, and studied my folder. “Well, After examining you and going over your questionnaire, I believe stress is the cause of your little problem... No pun intended.” 

I flashed him a smile, just to be polite. “So, what now? Is there a pill?”

“No pill. I have another option though, a new treatment, working wonders in other countries.”  He pulled his glasses down on his nose and as he shifted through papers. “I have the statistics right here. It has a  ninety-percent success rate.”

“Okay, that sounds great. What is it?”  I leaned forward, swinging my feet, waiting for a reply.

“When you go home tonight, and before getting intimate, put on your wife's lingerie, look at yourself in the mirror, and sing I Feel Pretty.”  He leaned back in his chair and grinned. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.” 

“I am, but only about the singing.”  He leaned forward to explain. “When you’re under stress, you need a release, and studies have shown that wearing lingerie, or panties if you prefer, will take your mind off  whatever is bothering you.”

On the drive home I couldn’t believe he was serious. Doctor Thomas had been my physician for ten years, but I was beginning to think he was one tongue depressor short of a jar. I was seriously considering a second opinion.

That night while the wife and I were watching television, from the corner of my eye, I saw her questioning stares.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You never told me about your doctor visit. What did he say?” She held my hand as if I were terminal.

“Truthfully, I think he’s a quack. He told me to wear your panties.”

She leaned back and clapped her hands, squealing with laughter.

“That’s it. I’m going to bed.”

She grabbed my arm as I started to stomp off. With her big brown eyes still twinkling from laughter, she looked up at me. “Let’s try it,” she snickered covering her mouth. “It might be fun to get a little kinky.”

I jerked my arm away. “You can’t be serious.”

“Yes, I am.”

I made my way to the bedroom, feeling like I was the only sane person left on earth. I plopped down on the bed, and as I thought about the whole thing I had to laugh. I stared up at the ceiling, thinking what a jerk I was for being so angry. What did I have to lose? I thought.

I squeezed into a pair of  pink, lacy panties with matching bra. I danced into the living room, twirling like a ballerina as my wife cackled. She sprang up off the couch and began dancing with me, leading me into the bedroom. We jumped onto the bed, and began kissing, hugging, and giggling. My wife rolled on top of me and said, “Oh my! The treatment is working.”

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