Dr Tim and the Boys

By Tim Mead

Published on Jan 15, 2004

Gay

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between men. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

Thanks as always to Tom W., Ash, Mickey, Evan, and Patrick.

timmead88@yahoo.com

Chapter 39: Desire

JARED:

I don't remember much about New Year's Day. I was pretty much out of it all day. I remember when I was awake it felt like someone had hit me in the gut with a baseball bat. Mom, Dad, Jess, and Danny were in and out of the room at different times, plus a bunch of nurses. Like I said, I was too groggy to know what was happening.

My appendix had ruptured, and they operated on me in the early hours of the new year. They wanted to keep me until they were sure they had gotten all the infection out because of the danger of peritonitis, I think it's called. When they first tried to feed me, I didn't want anything. They let me start with some cracked ice to dissolve in my mouth, and I found I could tolerate that. Then they began to bring me liquids. Saturday I was on things like jello and apple juice. By Sunday, I was fuckin' starving! Dante, who had been there every day, came by after early mass.

He came over and gave me a big, wet, sloppy kiss. "Man, I love that! But I don't know whether I want to get a hardon just yet or not."

He chuckled and pulled a chair up close to the bed. "How are you doing, Jare?"

"I could eat my weight in steaks about now! When can I get some real food?"

"It sounds as if our patient is recovering." A nurse had stepped into the room as I was complaining, and she smiled as she approached the bed.

"Hello, Nurse Galucci," Danny said. I think he must have known just about all the hospital personnel.

"Good morning, Dante. You seem to have taken up permanent residence here."

He grinned. "Yeah, but I couldn't leave my buddy all alone in this awful place, now could I?" Nurse Galucci grinned back at him.

Turning to me, she said, "How are you feeling today, Jared?"

"Much better, thanks. I was just saying to Danny that I'm pretty hungry. Any chance of some real food?"

"I'm sorry, but you can't have anything solid until Dr. Silber has seen you. He should be in before lunch, and if he thinks you're ready, he'll change you over to solids."

Sure enough the doctor came in about 11:00. A tall, distinguished-looking guy with silver hair, he looked at my chart. Then he asked me how I was feeling. I told him I felt a lot better and was hungry. He grinned.

"Well, let's take a look." Then he turned to Danny. "Normally, I'd ask you to leave the room while I check how his incision is healing, but you're staff and pre-med, so if Jared doesn't mind, you can stay."

I told him I didn't mind. Dante came over and watched with interest as the doctor removed my bandage, touched the incision lightly with his latex-gloved hand, and put on a fresh bandage.

He smiled at me. "Lookin' good, Jared. I think tomorrow you can go home, but you'll have to take it easy for a while. I understand you've been working in the ER?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, none of that for at least a week. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Uh, Doctor Silber?"

"Yes?"

"Can I get something to eat?"

He laughed. "Yes, I'll change your food order. It's too late to do anything about lunch. I'm afraid it will more beef broth and jello. But you'll get some solid food for supper."

"Doctor Silber?"

"Yes, Dante?"

"Would it be all right if I went to the cafeteria and got Jare a burger and some fries?"

"Try the burger and skip the fries this time, okay?"

"Thanks, doc!" I said.

The doctor left, and Dan, squeezing my big toe through the covers, said "I'll be back in a few with some chow."

He was back in about fifteen minutes with a burger and a milkshake, which I devoured in nothing flat.

"You know, Jare, I'm glad the doc let me watch as he changed your dressing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It gave me a chance to check out your package. I'd never seen it before, you know."

"Well, did it pass inspection?"

"Oh, yeah. I can't wait until March to get at it."

Putting on my best pouty face, I said, "Do we really have to wait?"

"Little stud, you know we do. You don't want me in jail, do you, being made into everybody's bitch?"

The idea was horrible, and I must have shown that on my face. He chuckled.

"You just hang on a little over two more months, and then I'll be your bitch."

"Aww, I wanted to be yours."

He laughed.

As the doc had said, I was discharged on Monday. That was the first day of school after the holidays, but I missed it. I went back the next day, Tuesday, but wasn't allowed to work at the hospital that week. Monday was also the first day of classes at the university, and Dan, of course, had to come to work at the ER as usual, so I didn't see him that week at all. We talked on the phone every day, though, and the next week I started back to my regular schedule at the ER. It was wonderful being able to work alongside Dan, but it was SO frustrating not to be able to do anything except sneak a kiss in our linen closet and cop a feel once in a while. I was so horny I thought I'd explode for sure before I turned 18 in March.


TIM:

I was running along my favorite path in the university arboretum. It was a warm, sunny day, I had worked up a good sweat even though it was early, and was in that special place I often go to when I'm running. But something didn't feel right. My cock and balls were flopping around.

Looking down, I saw that I was naked. That had hardly registered when I became aware of someone running behind me. I continued to run, and my pursuer, if that's what he was, kept pace for a while. Then his footfalls indicated that he had stepped up the pace. Curious, I let him pass me.

I didn't look back, but as he came around me on the path I could see that it was Max. He, too, was naked except for his socks and runners. His tool, which I had never seen erect before, was jutting straight in front of him, swaying from side to side as he ran. It wasn't much bigger around than mine, but it had to be a good seven inches long.

Max didn't look at me. He just kept running. I followed close behind, mesmerized by the rippling of the muscles in his back as his arms pumped, by the movement of his tight buttocks as his muscular legs propelled him on. I became hard almost immediately, and, as we ran on, silently except for the sound of our feet hitting the path, Junior began to leak precum.

I tried to overtake Max, to speak with him, but I could never quite catch him. It seemed we ran on through the sun-dappled woods forever. I wasn't tired. I was increasingly aroused by the sight of his naked, muscular, sweating body ahead of me and wanted desperately to catch up with him.

He started to pull away. I called to him, but he didn't look back. The distance between us gradually increased, and, then, suddenly, he darted off down a side path I had never noticed before. I followed, but he was nowhere to be seen. I stopped running and began to look around. The woods were thick here. I heard birds singing, but no other sounds. And there was no sign of Max.

I called for him several times, but there was no answer . . . .

"Tim! Wake up, babe. You must be having a nightmare."

I opened my eyes to see Cedric leaning over me, concern written on his face.

"Are you OK?"

I pulled him down and kissed his neck. "Yeah, love, I'm fine. Just a strange dream."

He chuckled. "Max must have been involved. You seemed to be calling for him. Want to tell me about it?"

I didn't think I had better do that. I needed to process what that dream might mean. "Sorry, Ced, I don't remember much."

I pushed him off me, and he fell onto his back. I dove under the covers for the ever ready Sneaky, and we lost track of time until the alarm went off.

Later, at the office, I had just gotten back from my first class when my phone rang. It was Jo, the English Department secretary, to tell me that Gwen Fairchild wanted to see me if I was free. It was an indication of how busy she was with her new duties that she'd summon me to her. Before, she'd have come to my office if she wanted to see me.

Jo handed me a cup of coffee as I went into the office of Gwen, who looked wonderful, as usual, with a cranberry cashmere turtleneck and a gray skirt. She still had a great figure for a woman her age, somewhere in her early fifties, I'd guess. I think she and Stan are pretty much of an age.

"So, how was MLA?" I asked.

[I need to explain here that the MLA, or Modern Language Association is a professional organization which many professors of English, linguistics, and foreign languages belong to. Its annual meeting is between Christmas and New Year's. Ostensibly, its purpose is to allow scholars to read papers to one another. Ostensibly one goes to get caught up on the latest research in his field. But it's also the Great Slave Market. Schools looking for new faculty members and individuals looking for jobs make contact in the fall, and then interviews are set up to be held at the MLA meeting. It's customary that those candidates who survive the preliminary interview are invited to the institution's campus for further interviews.]

"As it happens, Tim, that's why I asked to see you. As you know, we're looking only for an eighteenth-century person this year."

"Any hot prospects?" I asked, grinning at her.

She took a sip of her coffee. "We've invited three people here for interviews." She handed me three folders. "We haven't traditionally asked people who are in their third year to be involved with the selection process, but I want to change that. I'd like you to go through these folders when you can. When these people get here, I want you to have a chance to meet each of them. And one of them has specifically asked to meet with you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He's a young man who got his degree at Brown a year ago and has taken a year off to travel and write. Even though your fields are not the same, he's read your article, says he's read about you, and is eager to meet you. I don't know whether he was just sucking up, but he told me it was because you and I are here that he applied for our position."

"Well, if he's sucking up, he knows how to do it, doesn't he?"

"Look at his credentials, along with the others, of course, and see what you think. With a degree from Brown he'll be sought after. Besides that, he just may have some pull at certain other universities."

"What is that?"

"He's the son of Senator Modarelli from Illinois."

"No sh--, woops. Sorry, Gwen. Really? Modarelli's a pretty impressive guy, I think."

"I agree. And, of course, we won't be influenced by that at all, will we?" she asked, smiling at me.

Winking at her, I raised my coffee mug to her and said, "Certainly not."

"So, here's what I want us to do. I'll ask you, Gayle Florentz, and Aggie Johnson to each spend an evening with one of the candidates. You'll get young Modarelli. Think you and Cedric could take him to dinner or have him to your place for an evening? The department will pay for your dinners if you want to eat out. You'll meet all three candidates, of course, but I want a report on your reactions after you've had a chance to spend some relaxed social time with Modarelli."

"Gwen, I confess I don't know as much about the eighteenth century as I should, but I'll look forward to meeting this guy. I suppose I'll have to be careful not to ask too many questions about his dad. I'll bet he gets a lot of that."

"Yes, I should think so. But you'll be able to get some sort of impression about his commitment to scholarship and to teaching, about how he'd fit in at a school like this. Equally important, he'll be able to ask you questions he'd never feel comfortable asking me or the other senior members of the department. And you must answer them honestly, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, grinning. "You can count on that."

"Leave those folders with Jo when you've studied them, please," she said as I got up to leave.

At dinner that evening, I told Cedric what Gwen had asked us to do.

"Cool," he said. "I'll look forward to checking out the dude. What does he look like?"

"We can't ask for a picture of applicants, you know. I have no idea what he looks like. His father is tall, very distinguished looking, about Doug's age, I think."

"How do you know that?"

"Because his father is Senator Pete Modarelli from Illinois."

"No shit!"

I laughed.

"What's funny?"

"That's what I said when Gwen told me, except I stifled it before I got it all out."

He grinned. "Good thing, since you were talking to your boss."

"Well, I thought we might take him to Stefan's since the university is paying. Then we could bring him back here for dessert and after-dinner drinks. How does that sound?"

"Are you sure you want me involved?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way. And Gwen specifically mentioned you as part of the process. I think where there are spouses, they shouldn't be swept out of sight, and I gathered that she felt that way, too."

He cocked his head at me. "Spouses, huh? Am I your spouse, Timmy?"

"So far as I'm concerned you are."

"That sounds nice. I like it. Too bad we can't make it more official."

"All in due time, Cedric. Things are happening fast in this year of 2003, and perhaps before it's out we can. Vermont and Canada seem to be moving in that direction. We should think about going there if you really feel ready to make a commitment to me."

Any further thought of Richard Modarelli vanished as we continued to talk about the possibility of some sort of public commitment to each other.


MAX:

I was discovering that David was a sweet-natured, easy-going man. Not only was he beautiful to look at, but he was someone I really enjoyed spending time with. We always found lots to talk about, and as we settled into a sort of routine, we became very comfortable together.

He was away on business much more than I would have liked. Because he was so pleasant and so attractive, I couldn't help wondering what he might be doing while he was out of town, but I dismissed those thoughts as being unworthy of him or me.

When he was in town, he was here most of the time. Sometimes we'd spend a night on that marvelous bed in his apartment, but I didn't care where we were so long as we were together.

It had really been difficult for me living two doors from Tim and Cedric, both because I could see what they had that I didn't, and because I continued to have twinges of regret, some of them quite sharp, that Tim and I hadn't managed a closer relationship when we had the chance. And, naturally, I often thought of Andrew. David was helping me get over all that.

Jared continued to come to see me once a week. He seemed very relaxed about being gay. He told me he had practically no social life, but that he didn't care because he got to be with Dante at work several nights a week. I cautioned him about becoming too wrapped up in someone else at his age, and he waved my concerns aside.

"Max, I don't know what's going to happen five years from now, and I don't care. Right now, I've got a guy who really turns me on. I love being with him. I love thinking about him. I can't get enough of him. And I think I'll probably explode before my birthday."

"But you two are keeping your promise not to have sex before then, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "Sort of."

"Look, Jared, I don't want to nag. I know what it's like to be young and horny. It hasn't been that long since I was your age, and I still get horny, goodness knows. But you know what kind of risks you two are running. The consequences for Dante could be severe if you two get caught doing anything. So what does `sort of' mean?"

"Well, we just can't keep our hands off of each other. And that means at work we both often have hardons. They show a lot, too, when you're wearing scrub pants."

Then he told me about the episode where they were kissing and Danny came in his pants and the embarrassment Dan had over that.

"Then there was this other time . . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Danny and I were changing the sheets on a bed. I had turned to pick up something, and when I turned back, there he was, leaning over the bed, his nice butt showing. You know, it's sort of all muscly and cute. Well, I had been hard for hours anyway, and I just couldn't help myself. I went over and ground my hard cock into his crack."

"And?"

"He sort of hissed at me, `Jared, cut that out. What if somebody comes in?'"

"And?"

"Somebody did come in. There's this really hot RN who works in our section sometimes. He's Nurse Martin. Dan and I think he's gay. He's sure drop-dead gorgeous. Anyway, he caught me with my arms around Dan's waist, humping his cute butt. Danny must have liked that, because he threw his head back against my shoulder and was sort of moaning when Nurse Martin came in."

"Woops! So what did he do?"

"He was really pretty cool. He just kind of laughed and said we needed to be more careful. I think I blushed all over, and Dan was embarrassed to death, I know. Anyway, he got what he had come in for, which was the previous patient's chart, and left. Dante was kind of pissed with me. He told me that some of the women nurses wouldn't have been that cool with catching us like that and that I really had to control myself."

"Jared, Dante was right, you know. Being out is one thing, and I admire your courage for being as open as you are, but being promiscuous on the job is something else. You don't want the hospital people to complain to Judge Flowers about you and Dan, do you?"

"Hey, Max, I'd never thought about it that way. I guess I've got to learn some self control."

Jared's a good kid. His hormones are raging, but then who am I to comment on that? I hope he and Dante can stay out of trouble until early March, when Jared turns 18. I can only imagine what will happen between them on his birthday.


TIM:

Cedric and I had put both our computers in one of the bedrooms. One evening I walked in and he was obviously online.

"Emailing?"

"No, I'm IMing with Stan."

"Give him my love."

"Better than that, why don't you get online, and we can have a three-way chat."

"Good idea." Soon Stan had Doug on their other computer, and we had a four-way talk.

They told us that Stan had given up his condo at the country club and was living with Doug. They were shopping for another place. One of them told us they had seen this big old house by the lake. They liked it because it had lots of space and a great view, but that it needed lots of work. They were going to be working together in the law office Stan planned to open, and they were wondering whether they'd have enough spare time to fix up the old house.

After a while, Stan excused himself to go do something, and Cedric said he still had some studying to do. He and Trey were taking Sidney Mortensen's Victorian novel course and were struggling through "Vanity Fair." I suggested to Doug that I'd like to talk with him, so we got off line and I rang their number.

I told him how much I admired the two of them for continuing to be a presence in Lake Polk when they could have just gone away and had fun together. He said, "Believe me, Tim, Stan and I are having fun together."

I chuckled. "I can just imagine, Doug, and I'm really happy for you both."

Then he was telling me about an interesting article he'd read about Fitzgerald, and we talked about that for a while. He wanted to know what was going on in the department and whether we were hiring for next year.

"Why, Doug, you interested in coming here?"

He laughed as he said, "No, Tim. I know State already has a better Lost Generation person than I am. Besides, I'm becoming a lawyer's assistant or something of the sort. I hope I can be helpful enough that I won't feel like Stan's concubine. I was just wondering about whether you were going through the process of interviewing candidates."

I thanked him for the compliment and then told him that we had three people coming in soon to be interviewed for our eighteenth-century position. Then something crossed my mind.

"Doug, I wouldn't ever want to pry, but I have often wondered why a guy like you quit teaching. Do you mind if I ask why you left Cranmer? Why you left teaching?"

There was a pause. "No, Tim, I don't mind your asking. I've explained it all to Stan. But it's not something I want to talk about on the phone. Or in an email. You know Stan and I are planning to come up there before basketball season is over to see Chaz play, and we want to come back in the spring to see Mark and Cedric play. Maybe we'll get to see you, and I'll explain it then if we can find some time to be alone."

"Doug, when you and Stan are up this way, you are to plan to stay with Ced and me. Both times! Got it?"

He laughed. "That sounds great, Tim. I think Stan and I would love that. We'll keep you posted about our plans."


TREY:

After Chaz and I were . . . I suppose the best word is reconciled, he seemed to go out of his way to be attentive and sweet. He seemed a little subdued somehow, not the high-spirited joker he'd always been. And we weren't seeing much of each other after the holidays. He had been taking his studies much more seriously this year with the new major, which he was really enjoying, and, of course he had his basketball. For the next two and a half months he'd have practice or games nearly every day except Sunday.

One evening when he had an away game, I decided I'd go to the GSA meeting. I called Geoff and asked if he'd like me to pick him up. He thanked me and said that would be good because he'd be getting back from practicing with the trio and Philip had to be there early to see that everything was set up properly. He said, however, that he'd be with Philip after the meeting so he wouldn't need a ride home.

As we drove the short distance from Geoff's apartment to the meeting, he seemed excited, more talkative than usual. Even though Geoff's a year or two older than me, he always had this boyish look about him. His fair skin was a little flushed that evening. I was pretty sure I knew what had him in that state.

"Geoff, you seem to be really looking forward to this meeting."

He laughed. "Yeah, I guess it's obvious, isn't it? I'm always a little hot and flustered when I'm with Philip, and I'm looking forward to watching him run this meeting."

"You and he a couple now, are you?"

"Well, we aren't living together, if that's what you mean, but we spend as much time together as our schedules allow. And, Trey, it's really great. I mean, the sex is sooo hot. Of course, I have nothing to compare it to, but I can't imagine it being any better."

"Well, Geoff, it's good to see you so happy, I hope Philip realizes what a great guy you are."

"You know, he sometimes calls me his `angel,' and he was so patient and gentle when he was initiating me into the mysteries of sex. Some people think he's a Lothario and that I'm just another notch on the bedpost, but I honestly believe he has some feelings for me."

"Well, Geoff, he'd better treat you right, or I'll round up a posse and we'll go after him."

He chuckled at that. "Thanks. I don't think that'll be necessary, but I appreciate the friendship."

When we got to the meeting room, Philip and the other officers of the group were standing around by the door greeting people. It wasn't like a reception line or anything, they were just standing in that area and would chat with folks when they came in. Standing nearby but not quite in the officers' group I recognized a guy I knew, a soph on the tennis team, Ethan van Hoek. He was watching Philip and smiling.

Geoff walked right up to Philip, put his arms around his waist, and gave him a chaste peck on the lips. Philip looked surprised for a minute, but then he winked at me and gave Geoff a real open-mouth-with-lots-of-tongue kiss in return. The people standing around broke into applause. Geoff, blushing all over, came away breathless. "Hook," as everyone called him, frowned and walked away.

"I'm glad to see you, too, G.!" Philip said, grinning at him.

There were more people there that night than at the earlier meeting I'd attended. Philip had used his weekly column in the university newspaper to promote the group. He was skilled at conducting the meeting. He had a sense of humor and a kind of intensity about the aims of the group that were infectious. And I think he knew everyone there by name. At the end of the meeting when there was a question/answer session, he'd call each person by name as they spoke. It occurred to me that Philip should run for office: he was a natural-born politician. I couldn't help wondering, however, if Geoff wasn't in for some hurt down the line.

When the meeting was over, Philip and Geoff came over to me and Philip said, "Trey, you look lonely this evening. Greeley have a game?"

"Yeah, they're in Syracuse tonight."

"Well, want to come to Noplace with us for a beer?"

"Sure. I can't stay too late because I've got some reading to do. Don't think I'm ever going to finish `Vanity Fair.'"

I met them at the bar, where we had a beer and talked for a while. Geoff was obviously really smitten with Philip, hanging on his every comment. Then I excused myself and drove home. It was beginning to snow, and I wondered about the kind of weather the basketball team would have for the flight back. I knew it would be late when Chaz got here and that he'd be very quiet when he got in.

I made a valiant effort with the Thackeray, but the beer and the Victorian prose were too much, so I stripped, brushed my teeth, and fell into bed. I went to sleep right away.

I don't dream much. Hadn't had a really memorable dream since the one the previous summer about Tim. But that night I dreamed.

This one was about Tim, too. Partly.

I was at the edge of a small, grassy clearing in the arboretum. It was sunny and warm and I was naked. I don't know why I was naked. It was a dream. Anyway, I pulled myself up onto a branch of a tree and sat there, enjoying the pleasant breeze and the songs of the birds.

Soon, I heard a runner coming down a path toward the clearing. Not at all concerned about my nudity, I turned to discover that it was Max. Except for white socks and running shoes, he, too, was naked He looked incredible. About the same height as Tim, he's much more muscular, broader in the shoulders, bigger pecs, thicker legs. His body was lightly coated with sweat. And he was erect. His cock was at least an inch longer than mine, but not so thick. I began to get hard as soon as I saw him.

Max didn't seem to see me. When he got into the clearing, he stopped, turned back toward the path, and seemed to be waiting for something. Soon I heard another runner approaching. Max stood still, dick twitching and by now beginning to leak a little. I was right with him, my cock rigid and drooling.

The runner Max and I could hear burst into the clearing. It was Tim, also naked except for shoes and socks. Also erect. His cute cock was swinging back and forth as he ran.

Tim slowed, walked up to Max, and said, "Max, why wouldn't you wait?"

"I knew you'd follow me, and this is a special place, isn't it?"

"Yes, it does look familiar somehow."

The two embraced, kissed deeply, and sank to their knees. When they finished their long kiss, Max stretched out on his back on the short-cropped grass. Tim lay beside him. They held each others' cocks in their hands.

"Look, Tim, there's Trey up in that tree."

"Yeah, so he is."

"Nice view of his ass from this angle, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah, and I love his cock when it gets all red like that!"

So far, they hadn't said a word to me. They just talked about me as if I couldn't hear them.

Then Tim said, "Trey, please come down from your perch. We want you to be with us."

I looked at Max, who simply held his arms out to me. I jumped off the branch and ran to where they were. Soon we were all over one another, licking and sucking and stroking. We soon became slick with sweat and cock drool as we slithered against one another, grunting and moaning our enjoyment.

Finally, Max looked at me. Without his saying anything, I knew what he wanted. We pulled Tim up onto all fours. I fed him my cock while Max entered him from the rear. Tim was looking ecstatic as we both slowly fucked his openings. Well, `fucked' isn't the right word. Max and I both loved Tim, and we were giving him what we knew he wanted.

As I got closer and closer to orgasm, I heard myself groaning and beginning to growl.

"Tiger, that's some dream you're having. Wake up, guy. I want to get in on the fun!"

I opened my eyes, and there was Chaz, naked, grinning, his huge dick pointing at me."

"Oh, hi, babe. Did you win?"

"Yeah, but it was close: 93-89."

"Any trouble with the weather getting home?"

"Nah, but it's getting kind of slippery on the streets. I did see the salt crews out, though, so everything should be under control by morning. Now, you wanna tell me about the dream?"

"Later babe. Right now," I said, nodding toward my angry-looking cock, "I've got this problem."

He grinned and opened the night stand for the lube. Tossing it to me, he stretched out on his back, pulled his knees up against his chest, and said, "I think you know how to take care of your `problem,' don't you?"

"Oh, yeah!"

And I did.

To be continued.

Next: Chapter 42


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