Bedside Manner

Part II

Scott lay very still for what seemed like eternity, alone behind the curtain, the sound of the emergency room buzzing softly around him.

He would live, Dr. Collins had told him, which was the best news he had heard all day. Overexertion shoveling snow... so much for the invincibility of his fast-fading youth, he mused.

“He’s fine, nurse. He’s going to rest for a bit, then he’ll be on his way.”

Dr. Collins quickly briefed the ER nurse before slipping away, and it occurred to Scott that unless he took matters into his own hands, he might never see this kind, incredibly arousing man again.

He felt a deep, aching hunger as he thought about what had just transpired, about his doctor stroking him to a raging hardness, the sensation of throbbing in his mouth, of ejaculating full and hot in a nearly blinding orgasm. And his thoughts began to race at light-speed about what was beneath Collins’s starched, white lab coat.

Scott slid off the gurney and untied his blue hospital gown, tossing it back onto the makeshift bed, then took his clothes from the clear plastic bag tied to the stretcher and slowly began to get dressed.

From his pocket he took a small notebook and began to write, his words almost outpacing his common sense. His message was clear, between the lines.

“Dr. Collins, I can’t thank you enough. Well, perhaps I can. Let me buy you a drink tonight? I’ll be at Lancaster’s after 7. Hope to see you there. Scott Cole.”

It was easy enough leaving the note; Collins’s steel-grey BMW was parked in his own labeled spot 25 yards from the door to emergency.

Scott slipped the small sheet under the wiper, walking back to the taxi stand with his mind still boiling over. He followed Collins’s orders, returning home to relax for the rest of the day.

* * *

It was just after 7 when Collins appeared in the doorway of Lancaster’s, a popular local bar. Scott rose to his feet from his booth on the wall and waved in greeting, Collins nodding through his grin. They shook hands warmly, Scott patting his doctor’s tricep in a warmer welcome. This man surely worked out.

“So, you’re still vertical,” Collins said, smiling.

“Thanks to you, Dr. Collins.”

The formality of the words made both men laugh.

“Please... it’s Mark,” Collins said. “I hear enough of the ‘doctor’ business at work.”

“Mark,” Scott repeated. “What’ll you have?”

Mark ordered a bourbon and water and Scott refreshed his Chivas on the rocks. For an hour they chatted like old friends, their chemistry apparent to them both. Sipped on an empty stomach, Mark felt his few bourbons going straight to his groin, a medical phenomenon he never could figure out. It was almost as if Scott could read his mind.

“What do you say we continue this at my place? I’m just around the corner.”

Mark nodded. He was not the one in the position of authority now, as he had been earlier in the day. Not that he minded. He found Scott tremendously appealing, something that probably had not gone unnoticed in the ER when he had had his lips locked around Scott’s cock, devouring it.

* * *

The townhouse was dimly lit when they walked inside, and Scott welcomed his guest to his tidy living room, nodding toward the thick, deep sofa.

“Make yourself at home, Mark. Another of the same?”

“That’d be fine,” Mark replied, settling in.

Scott returned with the drinks in hand, easing himself down beside his guest.

“To good health,” he said, raising his Chivas in a toast. “And to the special doctors who promote it.”

They clinked their glasses and downed half their contents in a single, long swallow.

"Can I ask you something?” Scott said, any inhibitions fully dulled by the scotch.

Mark studied him for a second. “Shoot.”

“I already have, on the stretcher, and that’s what I want to ask you about.”

The two men burst out laughing.

“No, I don’t do that to all my patients, if that’s what you were going to ask,” Mark said. “You were the first, in fact. But as I was examining you, I couldn’t help but notice that your gown was moving in the most peculiar way.”

“Was it really.”

They laughed again.

“So like any good doctor, I had to investigate fully. All the vital signs, you know. And need I remind you what I found when I lifted up your gown?”

“I remember, Mark. My God, do I remember.”

“Let me remind you anyway. I found this gorgeous, swollen specimen. Tell me it wasn’t asking for my attention, but demanding it.”

Scott felt a shiver run down his spine, just as he felt his own hand fall on the inside of Mark’s thigh.

“And it’s never had more incredible attention than you gave it,” Scott answered.

His hand ran slowly up from Mark’s knee to an inch below his groin, then back down again.

“I don’t know why that happened,” Scott continued, his hand still moving rhythmically. “There was something about you in that white coat, the situation I found myself in, the danger of being nearly out in the open of the ER. I’ve tried all day to think of a suitable way to thank you for the kindness you showed me, and I’ve arrived at an answer.”

Mark’s leg was trembling, his cock beginning to swell inside his silk boxers.

“I want to repay the favor,” Scott said, his fingers spreading open and coming to rest on his doctor’s now prominent bulge, squeezing gently.

Their eyes met, and Mark knew he was powerless to resist. As if resistance was even an option.

Scott reached to Mark’s waist and smoothly undid his belt, moving his hands to unclip his fine wool trousers.

Mark drained what was left of his bourbon and leaned back into the thick cushions, watching Scott take quiet charge as he sunk to his knees, between his legs. With a tantalizing pull downward, Mark’s fly opened; Scott’s hand beneath his ass encouraged him to lift up, and his pants slid down the sparse hair on his strong thighs, past his knees to his ankles. Scott eased them off.

Mark’s arousal was plain to them both, the thick outline of a fast-growing erection pushing out the loose leg of his boxers. Scott leaned in and blew softly, the silk billowing like the sail of a boat, then reached to the fly and twisted open the two buttons, tugging carefully to reposition the silk. Mark’s cockhead peeked out through the fly, and as he shifted his weight on the sofa, his broadly veined shaft came into view, too.

“You are magnificent,” Scott half-whispered, mesmerized by what now stood proudly before him, long and thick and pointing at the ceiling.

Scott reached below the quivering shaft into the fly of Mark’s boxers, feeling a damp heat on his hand before he arrived at his destination. The sack of velvet-soft skin was loose and very smooth, completely free of hair.

With three fingers, he felt the weight of Mark’s balls and scooped them up gently, easing them out of the fly, then rocked back to drink in the view. They provided a full support for Mark’s cock, which was bobbing on its own, glistening at the tip of the sharply cut head.

Scott took a long, deep breath, Mark’s musky scent better than anything his imagination could conjure up.

“Mark,” he said, leaning in again. “I owe you this much. At least.”

With that, Scott’s tongue dipped to the base of Mark’s cock, pressing firmly into the hot skin. He felt Mark’s hands in his hair, encouraging him, and like a cat he took one long, slow, wet lick upward, salivating over the generous length of the shaft that now was swollen full.

The beautiful cockhead was engorged a purplish blue, a discoloration that began where the skin parted to form the crown. Scott raised up a little and pulled the entire pulsing shaft down until it was pointing at him like a missile that was precisely aimed and ready to fire. Which, in fact, it was.

Scott’s lips parted as he decided that, now, delicacy was highly overrated. He took one last look at Mark, whose eyes were wide with wonder, then focused on his target, feeling its heat before savoring its taste as the stiff cock entered his mouth. It was more than half inhaled before it ever touched Scott’s lips, or experienced the marvelous suction that pulled at Mark’s taut, veined member.

“Oh my God...” Mark’s moan went unheard by Scott, who was intent on giving his doctor -- his friend -- more pleasure than he had ever felt.

Scott pressed down until his nose felt the brush of Mark’s pubic hair, his tongue pressed to the bottom of his mouth to accommodate the thick meat. He nearly gagged, but pulled back until Mark’s cock emerged fully, wet and shiny and eager for more.

Mark’s nails dug into his oral lover’s scalp and pushed him down, Scott grunting as he consumed his fleshy meal again. Up and down he moved now, finding a perfect rhythm for them both; Mark’s ass rose and fell from the sofa as he fucked Scott’s hungry mouth.

His heat built in the frozen time as Scott bore down on him, drooling, sucking. But Scott needed more -- he needed more than to feel and to taste Mark’s climax... he needed to see it.

Mark’s balls had pulled up tight, his end clearly at hand. On his lips, Scott felt the tremors at the base of Mark’s cock, and he moved back completely, staring open-mouthed at the missile he had primed.

The fluid bubbling at the tip suggested impending joy for both men, and Scott was never more ready for anything. At that instant, he saw the first viscous spurt arc from Mark’s cockhead in a direct line toward his face. He didn’t have time to react, and caught most of the creamy gift on his jaw.

His right hand took Mark’s shaft and pumped it loosely, bringing forth another full spurt, then another and another. Scott aimed these with great care, gulping down every salty drop that Mark yielded. He slowed to a sticky dribble and Scott lapped it up, licking the slowly flagging cock that danced as it was spent, the blood retreating back the softening shaft.

Mark slumped back into the sofa with Scott clinging to his thighs, suckling the now almost flaccid cock that hung out of his silk boxers.

“Fuck, yeah...” Mark moaned, his hands still in Scott’s hair. “Let me tell you, this was JUST what the doctor ordered.”