Best Gay Erotica 2009

by Richard Labonté

  I slipped on a white rubber glove (resisting the urge to give the wristband an ominous sounding snap), grabbed a tube of lubricant, and turned to Ron.

  I nearly popped out of my professionally-pressed pants. Instead of just bending over the top of the table, Ron had climbed onto it, and was now on all fours, his boxer-briefs down to his knees, his family jewels swaying between his legs under a muscular, large, hair-coated ass. It was one of those visions like something out of a Titan porn DVD, rather than the sterile start of a medical exam. I couldn’t bring myself to clarify how I’d actually meant for him to position himself, for several reasons. First, I didn’t want to embarrass him. Second, as a gay man, I knew that, realistically, the position he was in was a lot more accommodating for what I was about to do than the standard over-the-table or on-the-table-on-the-side positions usually suggested to protect patient modesty. And third, it just looked so damn good, and I felt I deserved a little bonus for all my dirty work—that would be the past three over-sixty wrinkly-assed patients, one of whom was a woman.

  I had to draw my eyes away from the large-as-promised, incredibly hairy package dangling between those thunder thighs, and focus on the equally bushy butt above. I explained to Ron that he would feel coldness and then something that might be a bit uncomfortable. I squirted a glob of lube on my index finger, and and then used it and the thumb on my other hand to separate the forest between his asscheeks to find his anus.

  It was one healthy anus: gorgeous, breathtaking, a work of art. The surrounding skin was a deep pink-purple. But his anus was definitely not that of a gay man. It was a nearly invisible hairline crack. It was only when I painted it with a finger of lube that it sunk inward from the chill and showed what it might be capable of swallowing. I heard a hushed intake of air from Ron at the touch of the lube, and noticed his testicles—which were nearly as big as tennis balls and ten times as fuzzy—tighten up below my hand.

  I slid my index finger gently but steadily into his grip. When it popped through the initial tight ring of his bunghole, I felt around his quite healthy rectum and checked out his prostate. And once again, I could hear Ron’s low I’m taking it like a man grunt, more often heard in some teeth-gritting frat initiation. It so fucking turned me on I felt like probing him a bit longer than I would the usual patient. But I didn’t. I had ethics. And my professional touch had no real reason to be in there any longer.

  As I rolled off the glove and tossed it in the trash, I told him he could pull his underwear back up. Anxious inside at the thought of missing my one opportunity, I turned to casually look at him as he did so. He was sort of simultaneously pulling up his boxer-briefs while getting off the table, and I caught a quick glimpse of his ridiculously large cock, which was at a partially erect stage. It’s not unusual for some men to become aroused from this examination, but most often, it’s my gay patients. I looked quickly away so he wouldn’t be embarrassed, though he didn’t seem all that self-conscious. Of course, if I were that well hung, not much would embarrass me either.

  I gave Ron a clean bill of health and told him to come again in a year.

  And when that year arrived, I was thrilled to find that he was my last patient of the day. When I walked into the examination room…well, you know how time fades your memory of someone you’ve seen only once, and you start to think your recollection is making him better than he actually was so you can use that new composite image to masturbate? My memory couldn’t have prepared me for the reality. He had grown a tough-looking salt ’n’ pepper goatee, and this time around, his boxer-briefs were dark blue. I gave him the usual knee-weakening physical checkup (his nipples were more delectable than before), but before I could tell him to drop his underwear for me, he said he knew the drill, and once again climbed his hot ass up on the exam table.

  I slipped on the old glove (okay, a new, sanitary glove) and grabbed the lube. He was definitely looking like an old pro who knew the drill was coming. He had his back well arched, so his cheeks were widely spread, and I could almost make out his deep purple anus through his crack hair. His big balls and dick were even more prominently dangling between his legs than the year before, and his friggin’ dick had already become semierect. I really fought a losing battle to keep my own dick from being in the same state in my pants. Hopefully, I would be able to control it before it grew past half-mast.

  This time around, when I’d parted the cheeks completely and tickled his anus with a finger stroke of the gel, it pulsed harder than the previous year, and his groan was a lot louder. This guy was turning me on so bad, I had to keep reminding myself it was business, not pleasure—although it really pleased me to finger his ass. I felt around a bit, and once again, he took it like a—gutturally groaning—man. I explained that I just wanted to do a slightly more thorough rectal. I applied more lube to both my index finger and my middle finger. I warned him that this was going to feel more intense. And boy, did it. He gripped me like a Venus flytrap. His groan sounded almost sexual, rising in pitch as my combined fingers buried themselves inside him.

  Just at that moment there was a light knock on the door, and Steve poked his head in to tell me the test results were in for one of my patients, and that I should look at them before I left for the night. Fact was, Steve had already told me that before I came in to see Ron, and I knew damn well he just wanted to get a peek at the patient we both had a crush on. While he was giving me this recycled information, I worked on Ron’s insides without focusing much, so I was sort of wiggling my fingers around inside of him with no real motive—or no good motive.

  Steve always looks adorable in his snug male nurse uniform, and his masculine presence is strongly felt when he’s in a room, so he apologized for intruding and called over Ron’s shoulder for him to not be modest because Steve saw this kind of thing all day long and didn’t think twice about it. Then he looked at me and let his eyes pulse wide while mouthing the word HOTTT!

  As soon as Steve was gone, I turned my focus back to Ron’s domes, and began to dig inside him again, when I felt his asshole convulsing, making mincemeat out of my fingers. Ron suddenly grunted, “Shit!” and next thing I knew cum was flying out of his now fully erect monster cock, soaking the blue boxer-briefs bundled under his knees. There was nothing I could do. My fingers were at his mercy. I had to wait until his climax was complete before his strangling sphincter finally released them.

  I immediately withdrew them as he turned over. I don’t know which one of us had a redder face. He was speechless while I grabbed disposable towels nervously from the supply cabinet for him to clean up with, explaining that it was okay, nothing to be embarrassed by, that it happened sometimes, that the male G-spot was located in the rectum, and some men who didn’t even know it have extremely sensitive G-spots. He murmured, “Okay” as he wiped cum from his thighs and his boxer-briefs, then stood and wiped globs of lubricant from his asscrack before shamefacedly pulling up his undies. I took the balled-up towels from him with my gloved hand and tossed them. Then I exited, giving him a chance to dress in private.

  I also needed privacy. I locked myself in my office, heart thudding against my chest. I was imagining Ron getting all homo-phobic about his reaction to a prostate exam and accusing me of sexual harassment. I could be slapped with a huge lawsuit—have my license taken away. I was absolutely terrified.

  And that terror stayed with me for exactly two weeks.

  “One more patient to go, and we’re outta here,” Steve said as he handed me a clipboard, his daily last-call routine.

  He didn’t move as I looked at the paperwork in my hand. I saw why.

  “Is this right?” I asked, confused.

  “Yep. After his last checkup, he told me he needed to schedule a follow-up appointment with you in two weeks—and he specifically asked for the final appointment of the day again,” Steve explained.

  “Wait a minute. He asked for the final appointment last year, too?” I asked, and Steve responded with one raised eyebrow and a nod. “What�
�s this about?”

  “I could guess.” Steve flashed his charming smile and winked. “Nervous?”

  “Just don’t go too far away,” I requested. Damn right I was nervous.

  “Got it, boss,” Steve replied. I love when he calls me that—especially during sex—but that’s another erotic story.

  I took a deep breath and approached the door. I pushed it open—and it seemed all my blood was rushing to my dick, leaving my face ghostly pale.

  God, he looked good. He was in tightly clinging black boxer-briefs. I wondered if he consciously remembered what color he wore at each appointment so as not to repeat. His broad back faced me as he stood on the exam room scale, fiddling with the mechanisms. His ass muscles strained against the material of his underwear.

  “Hey, doc,” he said as I shut the door. “I can’t seem to get a good reading on this thing.”

  I walked over with a totally put-on, professional demeanor, and from behind him, I adjusted the sliding weights until a healthy two-hundred seventeen balanced things out. I was so close to him I could breathe in the scent of his soap, his shampoo, and its gentle blend with the perspiration released since his shower. It was like sleeping gas. I wanted to close my eyes and dream happy thoughts.

  “So, why back so soon? Everything okay?” I asked, still standing behind him. He finally turned and looked at me. And pointed at me accusingly—with a swollen arrow-straight cock nearly puncturing his tight boxer-briefs, making them even tighter in the process. I looked at it in appreciative awe.

  His face and bald head had turned a heated red. “I think I need you to examine me again. More thoroughly than last time.” He looked me sternly straight in the eyes, making it clear that he was still a man, in control of the situation.

  “Okay.” I nodded, staring back into his sky blue eyes. It was an odd sort of standoff, neither of us willing to appear like we wanted this more than the other.

  I grabbed the end of my stethoscope and placed it over one of his swelling nipples, chilling it into a nugget to nibble on. He sighed and shivered, as if he’d walked into a meat freezer. I could practically see mist spilling from his luscious lips. I could actually hear his heartbeat, and it was as dangerously over the speed limit as mine this time.

  I moved to the other side, to make the pair of nipples twins again. His powerful legs threatened to give out, and he fell slightly backward, clawing for the scale to steady himself. Once he’d finished with his balancing act, and I’d finished giving his other nipple equal time, I let the stethoscope fall back against my torso.

  He stood without dropping his gaze. I reached authoritatively for the lube and glove, and you damn well better believe there was an ominous pornlike wristband snap this time.

  “I need you to drop your underwear and get up on the table,” I directed. He did as told. “Lower your face all the way down to the table. Right. Stay like that. I’ll be with you in one second.” I was taking command.

  His hairy cheeks split open, his oversized genitals filled the space between his thighs, and his cockhead dragged the tabletop. I watched him closely as I moved to a nearby intercom unit.

  “Steven?”

  “Yeah. I’m here, boss.”

  “I’m going to need your assistance,” I said, and then let go of the intercom button without waiting for a reply.

  Ron didn’t flinch—or protest.

  I was too nervous to do this alone, I knew Steve wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t include him (he and I had played doctor together in this very room after office hours numerous times), and I knew Ron wasn’t looking for a relationship with me. He was definitely just here to have me do a job either his wife never would, or one he was just too much of a man to ask her to do.

  I picked up another disposable glove, and when Steve walked in, I tossed it at him. He’s athletic, and has good reflexes. He caught it immediately, assessed the situation—and the monster cock dangling between our patient’s legs—and pulled on the glove without question. We approached our specimen of man ass.

  “I’m going to need you to hold him open while I perform this exam,” I instructed.

  As Steve gladly gripped both cheeks and yanked them farther apart, both he and I couldn’t help but notice the long, glistening stream of precum spilling from Ron’s dick. Steve gave me one of his adorable smirks.

  My first instinct at seeing Ron’s purple pucker fully exposed was to dive right in with my tongue. But that wouldn’t be good for my practice—yet. So I lubed up my finger like a professional, and this time, I used the gloved tip to tickle the perimeter of Ron’s asshole. He moaned without restraint as his pucker sucked in like a Hoover. I kept circling, gradually putting more pressure against the flesh and spinning in toward his still-tight slit. He slowly began to draw in my whole finger, while I kept up the circular rotation, stretching the walls of his rectum. His beefy body responded. His buttcheeks started to wiggle, which caused his fuck hole to squeeze my finger.

  “I think I might need a second opinion,” I said to Steve. “Tell me if this feels okay to you.”

  I took my side of Ron’s ass with my free hand, holding his cheek in place while Steve took his now free hand and slowly slid his gloved index finger into Ron, snuggling up against my still inserted finger.

  “Oh, geeez!” Ron huffed, still spilling precum. He was most likely going to be leaving the office commando, considering the mess he was making of the boxer-briefs stretched from knee to knee.

  I locked eyes with Steve, and we gave each other the visual go-ahead. I pulled out first, all the way, and Ron’s purple pucker morphed around Steve’s gloved finger, his ass hairs and Steve’s glove both glistening with lube. Then Steve slowly exited, and just as Ron’s anus tried to seal back up, I weaseled my way back in. We picked up the pace, one finger alternating with the other. Ron’s powerful arms clutched the sides of the table, and one side of his face was now pressed firmly against the top of the exam table. His eyes were rolling, and he was breathing so heavily that spit was bubbling between his lips. A low, consistent hum emanated from his larynx.

  I reached out with my free hand to undo Steve’s pants, releasing his bulge, and he did the same for me. Neither of us stopped plunging our fingers up Ron’s hairy hole, though. Once we were both swinging free, I snatched up the tube of lubricant and squeezed a line across the top of Steve’s cock, following his vein for guidance, then did the same to my own cock. I also squeezed a glob between our fingers as they worked Ron’s pucker. This was all about multitasking. I moved closer to Steve, and smeared both of our cocks with the lube, wrapped my hand around both at the same time so they were trapped together within my fist, and began stroking slowly. Steve’s upper body relaxed at the sensation.

  I looked to Ron’s hairy moon to show Steve that it was time to up the ante. On my next journey into Ron’s fuck tunnel, my middle finger joined my index finger. Ron cried out—bordering on a squeal—as the two fingers went back in, followed by Steve’s two fingers. We showed no mercy. We scooped our way around his rectum, yanking his sphincter walls in all directions.

  It was an out-of-body experience—I was visualizing my assistant and myself from across the room, our pants down, our cocks conjoined, our fingers jammed up my gorgeous patient’s ass. This was so wrong, but there was no room for rationality. This was all about selfish satisfaction, about the world feeling good. There were no consequences.

  And Ron would completely agree with me. We’d taken him to new levels of ecstasy. He was whimpering like a puppy. I couldn’t see his face, but I had no doubt that euphoric tears were pooling in his eyes—and that his body had turned to mush as he gave up completely to the sensation.

  Steve blew first. I felt his manhood throb between my palm and cock, and then his hot cum splattered into my pubic hairs and onto my shaft as I continued to stroke both of us.

  As much as I wanted this feeling to go on forever, I wanted the release more. I continued to work my cock as Steve’s dropped out of the picture—
and my palm. I curled the two fingers I had in Ron’s ass downward and poked away with a frenzy at his prostate. Steve joined me.

  The response was immediate and violent. Ron’s entire body clenched, his powerhouse stomach muscles tightening and pulling him into a fetal position. It felt, from my point of view, like he was about to snap our fingers off with his sphincter. And his near-soprano shriek practically blew out my eardrum. I was helpless to assist with steadying him because my load was now set in motion. All I could do was watch as I sprayed onto the exam room floor.

  Steve was forced to jump to Ron’s aid, cradling the large man in his strong arms—one of which was still reaching back to Ron’s ass, where Steve’s fingers were still stuck—and embracing him so he wouldn’t fall off the table. Ron’s body fell heavily onto Steve’s torso, but Steve was more than able to hold him in place. Ron’s cum sprayed from his huge erection with no rhyme or reason, arcing out of sight as it hit every object in the vicinity.

  As his convulsing slowed, we felt his sphincter loosen its hold a bit and our fingers popped free, which resulted in another shock to Ron’s system. Steve helped him roll onto his back, and he lay there, his bearish chest heaving. His face was flushed, and his bald head gleamed with sweat. His eyes were closed as he focused on regaining his breath, strength, and equilibrium.

  “Relax, big fella,” Steve said, rubbing Ron’s shoulder. Steve has a great voice for soothing nervous patients. It’s so calming…and fucking sexy.

  Now that I’d ejaculated, logic flooded back, and I had to step away from the scenario. I cleaned myself off with a disposable towel, tossed the glove, and dressed my bottom half quickly. Then I turned to Steve, who stood patiently beside our patient, and said, “Can you handle it from here?”