A Doctor's Care

Alan returned one hand to his pussy, two fingers straddling either side of his dick, pushing his lips apart. With the other one, he finally, blessedly, rested a heavy, blunt middle finger against Simon's hole, pushing it in just slightly, then retracting it

"Are you ready?" Alan asked.

At the feeling of Alan's finger on his hole, Simon struggled to find coherent words; all he could think to do was push his pussy up at the doctor, beckoning him further inside with his hips.

"Do you want my finger inside you?" Alan spoke again, his finger motionless.

Simon let out a groan, long and low, and then gathered his thoughts to utter, "Please, Doctor, put it inside me."

At last, Alan did, easing his still-gloved finger in as far as it would go. Simon moaned again, immediately clenching down on it, holding it in place for several seconds. Then, Alan withdrew it, just halfway, bending it to press up at Simon's G-spot. Simon moaned again as Alan repeated the motion, over and over.

Simon had not had sex ever since his problem had begun, settling for near-constant masturbation in whatever free time he could find. Now, with a real hand in him, warm and fluid and pressing into him the way no toy could, he felt the way his increased lubrication actually amplified his pleasure - each smooth pass of the doctor's fingers on his sensitive flesh sent white-hot sparks of pleasure to his cock, aching and red and standing to attention above his hole.

Soon, however, one finger wasn't enough. It was, undoubtedly, good - it was something, and he couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips in tandem with its measured strokes - but he needed more.

Alan seemed to sense this. "I'm beginning to get a good picture of your health now, but I think we would both benefit if I inserted another finger" he offered, his hand continuing to undulate as he waited for a response.

"Ungh, please," Simon responded, squeezing his pussy on Alan's finger.

Alan shifted closer to him, removing his right hand but placing his left back on Simon's cock, resuming the gentle jacking motion from earlier. Simon, meanwhile, needed purchase on something himself, and so he reached out with his right hand, palming the doctor's dick.

It was firm, heavy - Simon could feel it radiating heat through his work trousers. After years of self-consciousness, Simon always got a rush out of knowing that his body was capable of doing that to another man. He wanted it in his hand, properly, but didn't know how to make that happen without getting up to unbuckle Alan both hands, or asking him to stop to do it himself. Of course, neither of these things were possible; Simon's mouth hung open in a continuous, silent moan as Alan readied a second finger at Simon's pussy and drove it in.

"Oh, God," Simon groaned, wondering only briefly if he should quiet down, voice now hoarse as Alan's fingers returned to stroke at the sensitive spot inside him while his other hand attended to Simon's cock. The pressure was more intense this time, his pussy walls bearing down on the increased girth.

Meanwhile, Simon kept his hand on Alan's dick, squeezing it, stroking it with his palm and listening to the sounds of Alan's hand inside him, his pussy sloshing and smacking around the doctor's crooked fingers.

Simon had never felt so aroused - he felt capacious, all need. He was dizzy with it, vision clouded at its edges, a cool sweat settled across whole body. The paper beneath him must have been ruined by now, his arousal directly soaking the chair, dripping onto the floor.

He felt close to the edge, each stroke of the doctor's hands inching him further towards orgasm, but still, he realized, he needed more.

He looked up at Alan's face and found Alan staring back at him, the hungry look in his eyes returned, the one he thought he'd made up earlier. Simon knew he must look debauched, eyes half-lidded, chest heaving, dripping wet, trembling with need, but he didn't care. He needed his doctor to help him, to make him feel better, however he could - he didn't care how.

Maintaining eye contact, he assembled all the mental capacity he still had and whispered, "Please."

In a series of fluid motions, the doctor removed his hand from Simon's cock, keeping his other hand in Simon's pussy as he rotated to stand back between Simon's legs, bending down, and taking Simon's cock in his mouth. Simon gasped at the wet heat of it, encircling his penis and then withdrawing, his tongue swiping over his head and shaft in flat, broad strokes. Simon let out a string of expletives in response, humping the doctor's tongue, tension gathering further in his lower abdomen and around his hole.

Then, finally, Alan took his cock full in his mouth, sucking hard. Simon shook. He squeezed his eyes tight, bore down on Alan's still-inserted fingers. Beyond the sheer arousal that clouded all senses beyond touch, he could distantly hear Alan groaning beneath him. The sound vibrated across his cock, and he came.

His full body jerked. His vision went white. Something animal burst from his own mouth as his pussy contracted, squeezing the doctor's fingers in tightly-paced pulses. Simultaneously, a fresh stream of liquid spilled from him, hot on his thighs and ass. He shook, riding out his orgasm on the doctor's mouth, which continued to suckle at him.

And then it eased, spasms gradually spacing out. He lay back on the examination chair, heavy and spent, senseless. He must have passed out, and when he came to he heard the wet sound of the doctor's hand flying across his own dick, unsure of when he had removed it from Simon. Before he could open his eyes, he felt the hot spurt of Alan's cum on his abdomen.

After what felt like an hour, Simon opened his eyes, taking account of things. His head was still spinning a little, and his thighs were stiff and sore as he lifted them slowly from the stirrups. Somehow, in the length of time it had taken him to so much as move, the doctor had reassembled himself completely; he sat across the room on his rolling chair, pants zipped and belted, once-more smiling blithely at Simon over his clipboard.

"There you are," he said as Simon rotated to sit sideways on the chair, feeling the stickiness of his now-drying arousal between his thighs. "After our examination, I believe everything is working as it should be. You did very well."

"Thanks, um, glad to hear that," Simon said, suddenly very conscious of his partial nudity. He pulled the gown down over his thighs again.

"I'll leave you to get dressed again, and we'll send over the results of your tests when we get them back."

Alan shut the door behind him, and Simon was left alone with his thoughts. If the ache in his muscles hadn't been telling him otherwise, he would have needed serious persuasion that this hadn't all been one of his more elaborate wet dreams. Had that all really just happened?

As quickly as he could, Simon changed back into his clothes, then turned back to the examination chair. Its paper covering was still drenched, and, not knowing if he should cover for the doctor, Simon laid his paper gown overtop of it, before speeding out of the office and out into the late morning air.

Blessedly, Simon caught his bus home just as it was pulling into the stop out front. Once aboard, he made his way through its mostly empty interior, tucking himself into a corner near the back. As he sat down, he made a mental note to thank the person who'd recommended this doctor, then wondered if they'd shared the same experience that he'd just had. A vision of the doctor, wrist deep in another guy while Simon sucked him off beneath the examination chair, flashed unbidden through his mind. His cock throbbed at the thought, and, as if on cue, his boxers grew wet beneath him once more.