Physical Therapy with Pete

I was driving home from work when a drunk woman pulled out right in front of my Jeep. My left ankle was fractured in the collision and I sprained my right hand. After getting the cast off my leg, two weeks of physical therapy were recommended.

The first visit was with a registered physical therapist who was a humorless woman in her forties. She performed the initial evaluation and wrote out the treatment plan. Thankfully, that was the last I saw of her.

The next visit was with Pete, an ex-Marine who was attending classes to become an EMT. He had been a trainer for a small college football team before enlisting, so this job was ideal for his background.

Pete was all muscle and testosterone, and was definitely in command when it came to therapy. He had a buzzed haircut and a mat of chest hair showing through the V-neck opening of his hospital scrubs. I was weak in the knees the first time I saw him.

Pete pushed me way past my comfort zone and into the realm of pain for gain. He could use a little coaching on his bedside manner, but he was engaging and honest in his intent. He was very handsy and often cradled my left knee under his armpit when he was flexing my ankle. I could feel his body heat and the strength of his chest and arms as he isolated my calf muscle. He often ran his hand high up my shorts, almost too high feeling and kneading my thigh muscles.

One Wednesday afternoon I was a little late arriving and it was near closing time. Pete got me started on a hand flex machine while he finished up with another client. I saw the client leave and Pete locked the door and closed the blinds as they exited.

"Well Matt, you are the last client of the day," he said walking back to where I was. I stopped spinning the machine and smiled, "So what new torture do you have planned for today?" I said.

"You'll be lucky if you can limp out of here on a cane," he said as he waved for me to join him in the back. There were two different rooms for therapy. Most of the machines were in the front, but the tables, support harnesses and stretch belts were in the back room. I climbed on the low padded table where Pete usually started to work on my ankle. The back room was unusually hot and Pete went to the thermostat to adjust the temperature.

"This back air conditioner has been limping all week, I just recycled it but I'm afraid it may be done," he said.

Pete looked at me and wiped his forehead, then he pulled off his shirt and I finally got a look at that chiseled hairy chest. It was everything I imagined it would be. Not an ounce of fat, his muscles were intimidating as hell. His chest hair grew completely across his pecks from one side of his chest to the other and down his abs disappearing into his scrub pants.

Pete came back to the table and grabbed my leg. I had on a pair of loose athletic shorts and some Jockey pouch micro briefs. Pete pulled my leg under his armpit and I felt his thick bush of pit hair on the top of my knee. Having my leg against his hairy chest was driving me crazy. He started running his hand up my thigh and my dick started responding immediately. He slid his hands up the leg opening of my shorts and grabbed my upper thigh. He squeezed as he slid it down ostensibly to massage the tight quad muscle. He adjusted his position and then shoved his other hand up to my briefs into my glutes and jabbed his thumb deep into my ass muscle. It hurt like hell and my cock reacted strongly to his touch. I could tell I was going to get a hard-on if he continued rubbing around my ass.

He slid his left hand all the way up my shorts and pulled the side of my brief over my ass cheek and into the crack of my ass. Then he pulled my shorts up higher so he could get all the way up to my crotch.

"This would be easier if you took your shorts off," he said as he drilled his thumb into the muscle.

"Damn, that is sensitive," I said, in a whiny voice.

"Drop your shorts Matt," he said releasing me, "there's nobody else here."

I stood up and slid my shorts to the floor. My dick was engorged, plump but not fully hard. My cock was tangled in my pubic hair and I adjusted it out of habit. The head of my dick was straining against the thin fabric and you could easily see it getting hard. I felt exposed and intimidated with one ass cheek hanging out of my briefs.

"Hey," he said looking right at my crotch, "I'm wearing those same briefs." He untied and dropped his scrub pants down to show the big Jockey lettering on the waistband and I got a good look at his pouch. It was stuffed full and I could see the outline of a big cock head. He pulled his scrub pants back up and tied them off.

"Okay let's get this show on the road," he said as I sat on the edge of the table.

"Lean all the way back," he said. I laid back on the table with my butt on the edge and my legs hanging down. I had removed my shoes when I took off my shorts.

Pete was facing me in between my legs and lifted my right leg and held it with his left arm. He grabbed under my thigh and drilled his thumb into my hamstring area again. The back of his hand was against my nuts as he massaged deeply into my muscle. The back of his hand was sliding against the pouch of my brief and it was getting me hard, rock hard, and I had no way to hide it.

"Sensitive huh?" he said glancing at my hardening cock. "What's with this business?" he said bumping my hard bulge with the back of his hand.

"Uh, yeah well all this rubbing is... making me hard," I said it awkwardly not knowing how to respond.

He told me to roll over on my left side and he put my right leg up on his shoulder. Between Pete's hairy chest and my boner, I couldn't really focus on the therapy.

Pete was starting to sweat and reached down to untie his scrub pants and pulled them off along with his shoes and socks. His crotch was bulging too and his bushy pubes stretched well above the waist band of his briefs. I couldn't keep from staring at his crotch. He reached down and adjusted himself and I could see his dick growing as he continued to rub it. His legs were just as hairy as his chest, all the way down to the tops of his feet.

I reached down to push on my aching dick and my hard cock eased itself out of the side of the leg of my briefs just as he was massaging my hamstring. I was mortified at my hard cock showing its shiny bulging head right in front of Pete. He was looking right at my veiny hard cock and started massaging his crotch. Pete stood up and pushed his briefs down to the floor. His cock stretched out in a powerful erection and I swallowed hard not knowing what was going to happen next. Pete was standing in front of me bare assed naked, hairy as a bear with his dense pubic bush framing his hard massive cock. I'm pretty sure my cock started leaking precum at that moment.

He reached down, grabbed my briefs with both hands and pulled them off in one motion. My cock was standing at attention and he grabbed my stiff dick and stroked it a couple of times.

He pulled me to the edge of the padded table and then walked over to a cabinet and opened it. He pulled out a tube of something and rubbed a big glob of it on his cock. His dick was shining and dripping when we came back. I lifted my legs and he pulled me to the edge of the table. He was horny as hell and I knew he was going to fuck my ass.

He grabbed his cock with one hand and put the massive thick head against my hole. His dick was hard as a stone and he shoved it in roughly. I yelled a little when it went in my hole. He was an aggressive fucker, a Marine through and through. He punch fucked my ass and it hurt like hell for a few minutes but he shoved it in deep one time and just left it there buried as far as he could shove it. Then he pulled my ass cheeks as far apart as he could and drove it in even deeper. I was howling, and he was just destroying my ass. He lifted my right leg up and rolled me on my side then buried his cock in my ass again. His fucking was relentless, he hit bottom with every thrust.

In a couple of minutes I felt my cock dripping cum and then it exploded, erupting like a volcano, cum shooting past my head onto the table and then across my face and chest as the convulsions finished. Pete never slowed down, just fucked like a maniac. His stamina was incredible and finally he started accelerating and fucked me faster and faster. In minutes he yelled and emptied his nuts in my ass. He shoved his hard cock fully in with every shot of cum. In a few minutes it was over. He fucked slow for a while after he came, never getting soft. His cock was full on hard when he pulled it out. His cum was dripping out of my ass and I had never felt so fucked, so owned by a man.

Pete looked at me deep in the eyes, it was like we had finally connected. He grabbed a towel and wiped the cum off his cock. I reached out and grabbed it and pulled him close. I sucked his cock and nuts for a good five minutes before he grabbed the sides of my head and started fucking my throat. In a few minutes he blasted a second load deep in the back of my throat and I could feel it dripping out of the sides of my mouth. Finally his cock started softening and I sucked it clean, tasting his acrid and salty cum in my mouth. I couldn't get enough of it.

He climbed onto the padded table next to me and held me close - those massive muscled arms holding me in a tight embrace. No words were spoken, we just laid there enjoying our bodies connected, feeling the after effects of sexual release.

There was no more therapy that evening, just spooning and enjoying the time together. He fucked me again later, slower this time. Pete was definitely a top man, and had little interest in my cock. He gave me a hand job after our second round.

I enjoyed therapy with Pete over the following weeks. And he was right, I was barely able to walk out of there most afternoons.