by Van Barrett
“I should go,” Liam quietly said with a wave of his hand.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Are you--” I couldn't even ask the question without laughing. “Are you saying that you think I'm into guys? You think that's what me and Chance were? We weren't.”
Liam shrugged. “I'm not saying anything, Paul.” He popped his door open and dangled a foot out. “I should go. But remember. Go to the doctor before you take those pills. Okay?”
Suddenly, I didn't want him to go just yet. “Wait. I told you I don't have health insurance, remember?”
“Go to a clinic, then. They can help the uninsured.”
“--Can't you help?” I blurted out.
“What?” Liam laughed. “Help with what?”
“Take my vitals, or something. My blood pressure. You are a doctor, aren't you?”
Liam buried his face in his hands.
“C'mon,” I urged him. “Please.”
“Okay. Wow. Fine. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this. Come on in.”
Chapter 7
Playing Doctor
Liam
I know.
I know what you're thinking.
And believe me, I was thinking it, too.
Oh my God Liam, are you insane? You're not a doctor! What are you getting yourself into?
Nope. Hell no I'm not. But at this point, I was starting to think that Paul had already figured that out … and maybe he had a little sugar in his gas tank, too.
I unlocked the door to my crummy studio apartment. We stepped in and I studied Paul's face as he took in my surroundings.
“Huh,” he said. “Small place.”
Oh jeez. He knows. It's so obvious, it hurts.
The lie was getting too absurd to carry on with. But if I came clean to Paul? I knew the whole assignment would be ruined, and I wouldn't get that paid job at the station.
“You can sit right here,” I said, hurriedly clearing a stack of newspapers from a metal fold-out chair.
“Thanks.”
Paul nodded and took a seat. Meanwhile, I ran off to grab an old stethoscope and blood pressure pump from my closet. My Mom, a nurse, had given them to me when I moved away from home. I'd never used them until now—I never thought I'd have to, honestly—and I hoped I'd still remember her lessons.
“We'll have you sit and rest for a few minutes before we take your pressure,” I instructed him.
“Okay.” He drummed his thumbs on the fold-out chair nervously.
The silence was killing us both.
You have to get him to relax, I told myself.
“Tell me about your car,” I said as I crouched on the floor next to him. “What'd you say it was again?”
“An RX-7,” he said, showing those bright white teeth—and it was like all the tension seemed to leave his body. “It's got a rotary engine. It's kind of a big deal for that reason.”
“And what's a rotary engine?”
“It's a different type of combustion engine entirely. Designed by Felix Wankel in the 1920's.”
“Tell me what makes it so different.”
“Well, most cars have piston engines. The pistons reciprocate violently, back and forth, on a four-stage cycle: intake, compression, combustion, exhaust. Your Legend, for example, has six pistons.”
“Uh huh.” I bit my lip. I didn't care about cars at all, but it was super cute how excited cars made him. “I need your right arm. Hike up your sleeve for me.”
Paul tried to pull the sleeve of his oil-stained jumpsuit up, but it couldn't get past the bulge of his powerful forearms.
“I need access to your bicep,” I told him.
“Oh, okay.”
Paul unzipped his jumpsuit a tad—just enough so that he could slip his shoulder free. He wasn't wearing an undershirt. I licked my lips at the sight of his bare, muscled and round shoulder. His dewy skin glistened with sweat.
He gave me his arm. His bicep was knotted with muscle and rippled as all hell. I held Paul's impressive arm in my hands, staring at it with a growing lump in my throat, and wondered how in the hell I'd gotten to this point in life.
Or what Angela would say if she could see it.
Dear God.
I secured the velcro strap around his thick bicep. Meanwhile, Paul continued his lesson on the difference between rotary and engine pistons.
“In a rotary engine, instead of pistons, you've got two triangular rotors housed in an oval chamber. The rotors spin in one direction, smoothly, instead of that violent back-and-forth motion of a piston engine.”
I squeezed the inflation bulb, pumping air into the cuff.
Paul caught my eye. “And since you're a doctor, I shouldn't have to tell you what less back-and-forth motion means, right?”
The cuff inflated, constricting on his bicep. The hard muscles in his arm began to bulge, growing more defined by the second, and his pounding veins grew larger and bigger.
Gulp.
“Uh—less wear and tear on the engine?”
“Yup, exactly. Also, the rotary engine manages to accomplish all four stages of the engine's cycle simultaneously, instead of jumping from one task to the next. Which means a smoother, more dependable power-band, all the way up to the redline.”
What the hell is he talking about? I didn't know; but that didn't matter.
“Well shit, Paul, I'm sold. Why don't more cars have rotary engines if they're that much better?”
He shrugged. “I guess big change takes time.”
Oh really? You trying to tell me something, Paul Parisi?
“Okay Paul. Let's have a listen.” I put the stethoscope buds in my ears. I held the chest-piece against his arm and let air out of the cuff.
Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.
“Looks like you're 110 over 55.”
“Is that good?”
“Yeah, pretty good, Paul.”
“Oh. Whew.”
I removed the strap from his arm. “Welp, looks like you're as healthy as a horse, heh!” I laughed nervously—hoping our little check-up was thusly concluded.
But Paul unzipped his jumpsuit further—past his belly-button, down his hairy treasure trail, until the zipper reached the end of the line: just below his manly and untamed bush.
And I found myself face-to-face with a perfect set of sizzling abs and obliques. This mechanic was built like a Roman statue.
“Um.”
“Shouldn't you listen to my heart?” he asked.
“S-sure.”
I put the stethoscope chest-piece between his huge, chiseled pecs and listened.
His heart sure sounded strong and healthy to me—but what did I know?
I listened closer.
It pounded with a hypnotic pulse. Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.
Then his heart rate started to increase.
Faster. Harder. Ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum!
Paul wrapped his massive hand around my wrist.
I peeked up at him.
“Uh …?”
“Damn,” he muttered, looking disappointed. “It happened again. The hell.”
I looked down.
Yup. It happened again, alright.
There was Paul's huge cock, eagerly straining against the thigh of his jumpsuit. Begging to be set free.
Paul bit his lip and stared at it. Hell, so did I. His pelvis rocked forward, ever so slightly. He was daring me.
“Um,” I stammered. “You weren't supposed to take that Viagra yet.”
“I didn't,” he said with a tortured frown.
My throat grew so dry, it ached. “Oh.”
Paul grabbed my hand and guided it to his thigh—placing it just inches from the outline of his throbbing cock.
“Should we do a full physical?” he asked in a vulnerable whisper.
Um. Oh hell.
I couldn't resist.
“Yes,” I answered.
I ran the tip of my fingers all around his bulge, so slowly and innocently to maintain the plaus
ible deniability that this was only a routine check-up. I traced his arousal, slowly, cruelly, teasing Paul until he was reduced to a horny, panting mess.
With his hands bracing the seat of his fold-out chair, he spread his legs open for me, letting me get even closer to him.
This is such a bad idea, I told myself.
But then one look at that muscled, oil-stained stud?
Fuck. He wants to play doctor? Fuck it, let's play doctor.
“Let's get you out of that uniform,” I commanded.
Paul nodded. I grabbed the legs of his jumpsuit and pulled. He didn't resist.
He didn't wear underwear, just like I suspected. His meaty cock sprang free and slapped his damp, deliciously-tight belly with a muted thwack. His dick throbbed with agony on his sweaty, straining abs. His balls were big, and they dangled over the edge of the fold-out chair.
“Wow,” I mumbled as I neared him.
I neared his heat and his masculine scent hit my senses. Fuck, his smell was invigorating. Pure, unadulterated male. A divine mix of musk, spice, and sweetness.
Gently, I took his nut sack into my hand, and turned his balls gently around in my palm.
“These are … big,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Wha'?” Paul muttered.
“I said, turn your head and cough for me.”
Paul obeyed.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Good,” I said huskily. “Very, very good.”
“Yeah?” he asked, biting his lip.
“Yeah.”
I ran my hand higher—from his balls to his shaft. I held him in my hands; his towering manhood. His balls hung parallel with my chin, and the top of his cock went higher than my head.
“Fuck you're big,” I whimpered.
“Doctor,” Paul laughed, as if he were surprised. “That's kinda unprofessional of you, isn't it?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I tightened my fingers around his shaft. Slowly, gently, I ran a ring of my fingers up and down his shaft.
“Ohh, God,” Paul groaned, his head rolling back.
I jerked him harder, faster, hotter.
“I wanna suck it, Paul,” I whispered.
His head shot up like an arrow. He stared at me, his eyes straining with lust and desire but something else, too—uncertainty.
“Oh God,” he gulped.
This is his first time with a guy, isn't it?
“Don't worry,” I whispered to soothe him as I crawled closer between his thighs. “I promise you'll like it.”
I tongued his tight ballsack, chasing his sensitive nuts around and around.
He liked that—he gave more than a few delighted coos.
So I took it further. I wrapped my lips in a ring around his nuts. I sucked, and pulled, stretching his sack until he yelped with pleasure and pain.
“Oh my God,” the big man whimpered. He thrust towards my mouth, helpless. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I dragged the tip of my tongue along the underside of his shaft. His cock only grew more defined under the caress of my tongue. I could taste his texture; every deep crevice and salty ridge. I lapped my lips on the surging beat of his heart.
“Please please please,” Paul panted. “I want it, dude.”
Slowly I dragged my tongue higher—until I reached his glans.
“Yes,” he hissed as I locked my lips around his lovely head.
The taste of a hard working man filled my mouth: the salt of his sweat. A hint of the sweet, metallic tang of motor oil.
He tastes so good.
I plunged down on him, sliding his girthy manhood between my cheeks. Hungrily, I sucked him, feeling his thickness swell in my mouth.
“Uuuurgh,” Paul bellowed with pleasure.
With my hands gripped tight on his balls, I slurped him down, filling the room with the pop, slurp, and smacks of sopping-wet suction.
And somewhere, somewhere, some small part of me silently screamed:
Liam! The fuck, man! How are you ever going to get yourself out of this one?
But with each long, sloppy pull on Paul's cock, I buried that voice deeper. Until all my thoughts faded into the background, and the only thing that mattered was Paul's dick. Long and thick and swelling in my throat with a rising pressure.
Chapter 8
We Just Did That
Paul
I guess I knew this might happen.
Liam told me he was gay, and what did I do? I invited myself into his place! What did I really think we were going to end up doing?
Maybe it's what I wanted.
Hell. I knew that back when we both got hard in his car. I never could've admitted it then, but … secretly, maybe this is exactly what I was afraid of. And exactly what I wanted to happen.
I couldn't deny it now. Something about Liam made things seem so … right. Like that fog in my head cleared, and I could finally see the things that were right in front of me all along.
No wonder I couldn't get hard with girls. It's not that I didn't like them or found them gross or anything. We just didn't have any chemistry because of something a whole lot more fundamental.
But Liam? His doctor routine got me so goddamned hard. All I could think about while he strapped that blood pressure thing around my bicep was, this guy's into you, Paul, and you know it.
And I knew that thought was supposed to be a forbidden thing—something that was supposed to make me shove him off me and go running for the door. Like all those guys back at Scud's would do if they were in this situation.
But something about him getting hot for me made me really excited. I'd never felt so wanted before in my life. I could feel his eyes running over every inch of my body. I could feel the way he ran his finger-tips over my muscles, like he could taste me with his fingers alone.
Well, with Liam's hands all over me, it was just a matter of time before I was sporting another boner.
He saw it. I knew he did. I could tell he wanted it. And he seemed too shy to take it himself, so …
I decided he needed a little help.
I can't believe I managed to do it, but I sure as hell did. I grabbed his hand and put it on my thigh. Right next to my hard cock. That's as far as I could go—I had too much guilt and shame to make a real move. The rest had to be up to him.
Thankfully, Liam didn't need much coaxing.
Soon he was pulling at the legs of my jumpsuit, and once he got it off me, he tossed it across the room.
The cold steel of the fold-out chair felt like ice on my ass cheeks—but Liam warmed me up real quick. With his breath hot on my junk, he crouched between my thighs and just stared at my dick.
Another man, face to face, with my rock-hard cock.
The look on his face? Pure desire. That only made me hotter with anticipation and my cock heaved eagerly.
Fuck. Just blow me already, dude. Put me out of my goddamned misery.
But he wanted to take his time with me. Maybe to drive home the point that he'd totally broken me. That there was no hope of going back to women after this.
He kept his eyes locked on mine while he licked and sucked at my balls. He sat between my legs, kneeling, as if he were worshiping my manhood.
Shit.
His warm, wet tongue traveled higher. I couldn't take it anymore. I begged for it.
“Please, dude, gimme your mouth,” I snarled.
And then he finally did. His lips tightened around my glans—and he took all of me, right along his luscious tongue, through the velvet bliss of his cheeks, and down his blisteringly-hot throat. Until the cold tip of his nose touched my belly.
Fuck.
I rested my hand on the back of his head as he bobbed up and down my length. Liam's hair was neatly cropped, with the backs and sides of his head buzzed short. The whole time he sucked me, all I could do was run my palm over the back of his head, against the grain, reveling in the prickly texture of his short hair. An unexpected, deeply exciting, and stomach-twisting taboo.
A dude is suc
king my dick.
And with the sloppy blowjob he was treating me to, he was about to make short work of me.
My moans and groans grew louder; it was all I could do to warn him to slow down. I felt his saliva trickle down my shaft, dribble down my balls, and slide over my asshole.
Ung. I moaned with pleasure, my ass squeezing tightly shut.
Liam took my cock out of his mouth with a suction-breaking pop.
“You like it, don't you?” he teased with a sparkle in his eye. “You've got such a nice thick cock.”
His words weakened me and made me slide deeper into my seat.
“You're so fucking good at sucking me, man,” I said, my voice gravelly. “Holy shit, I can't believe we're really doing this.”
“I can,” Liam laughed. “I can feel you getting bigger in my mouth, too.”
I nodded, panting. “If you don't slow down you're gonna make me cum--”
“Good,” he answered—and then he threw his mouth and lips right back over me and slurped me down again.
Ah God!
I watched every inch disappear in his mouth—then reappear a second later—and then disappear all over again. My hard flesh was a blur between his lips.
“Liam,” I panted.
My balls had grown heavy with my load.
“Liam!” I pleaded.
The pressure in my balls began to rise.
“Oh my God, Liam!”
He knew what he was doing. He sucked me faster, harder, sloppier—determined to get my seed.
“I'm gonna cum Liam!”
He moaned, “mm-hm!” As if he were saying, do it! Cum for me!
He wasn't going to stop. He wanted it. He wanted to taste me.
“Uuuuuuurgh!” I roared and grabbed on to my seat for support as my cock pulsed and throbbed in his mouth.
Liam took it all, swallowing my load right down without a thought.
***
“Holy shit,” I panted a few seconds later—when reality had started to set in. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” Liam said. He sucked at his fingers, cleaning my juices from his hands. “We um.”
“We just did that,” I said, finishing his sentence.
“--Yeah.”
I suddenly felt more naked than I ever had in my life. I rose from the fold-out chair and hurried across the room to fetch my jumpsuit. I stepped into it, and stuffed my still-hard cock into the left leg.