As the last of eight children, I was lucky to get much of anything (other than a lot of hand-me-downs). I knew my father (which is more than I can say for my other siblings) and he was a good man, trying to provide well for eight kids (only one of which was his). But, he and my mother loved each other and did the best they could. At least, my other brothers and sisters graduated from high school. Dad made sure of that. "Niggas need an education," he'd say repeatedly. "You never gonna amount to anything unless you do." But, that didn't stop three of them from dying of gunshot wounds or drugs before they were 20. I lost a brother and two sisters that way. I had to get away from there or I'd wind up like they did.
Mom liked dick, BIG dick, so she was always finding some well-hung homeboy to shack up with. Hence, the multiple fathers of her eight children. She'd married four of the fathers, but only the fourth one was worth a damn (to hear my aunts talk about them). The two oldest boys didn't remember their father (as he left the family when the younger one was still an infant and the older child was only two). Two of the younger boys were illegitimate (as if that made a difference) and the other three were from Mom's second husband (who also took off when the oldest of that brood was only four years old). Mom's third husband must have been shooting blanks, because they never had any kids. He died of a stroke at the age of 31 (high blood pressure being the silent killer).
Mom died of diabetes at the age of 52 and Dad died of a stroke shortly after I graduated from college (when he was 50). Mom liked her bed partners younger than her and (of course) well hung. She was almost blatant about her love of big, hard dick. Dad was studding her almost every day. (We could hear them going at it often enough.) She'd even shout out how much she loved my dad's monster horsedick. And I'd seen his equipment often enough to know that she wasn't just making him feel good. The man was truly blessed!
Dad was able to see me through college with some financial assistance and I worked part-time to fill in the rest. But, my dream to go to medical school was crushed when he passed on. I had enough funds to get into the school, but not enough to stay. I'd nearly given up when a friend of the family suggested that I look into getting some government grants to help me out. One grant in particular paid for the whole thing, if I were willing to spend three years of my life in a "medically underserved" part of the country after I graduated from med school. You have no idea the joy that came into my life when I was accepted into that grant program!
The stipend I got to live on after I graduated wasn't very big, and certainly not the salaries that nearly all other doctors commanded. I'd say that my salary was about a third of their regular pay. However, it was enough to live on, so I didn't complain.
I'd been assigned to a small town community clinic in western Nebraska. It may not have been in the middle of nowhere, but you could see "nowhere" from there. The town was only a couple thousand people and the county was but a few thousand more. The county medical society amounted to four doctors (including me). I met the other three doctors at a regional medical society meeting. Underwhelmed would be praising them. One doctor was older than dirt and a drunk. At least, he only served as a diagnostician and never performed surgery (other than minor things like removing warts, moles, and skin tags). He could set broken bones, but not very well anymore. Maternity cases were sent to another doctor. That doctor was an arrogant asshole (I'm being kind), so we had little in common. The third doctor was the County Health Officer and did little by way of real doctoring. However, he was my mentor and my relief at the clinic (so I didn't work around the clock, 24/7). He was a good man, and a fair doctor, so we got along fine.
However, as the only black man in town, I sure did get a lot of notice. I know I wasn't the only gay man in town (I couldn't be with 2,000+ residents), but I seemed to be the only one who didn't care who knew that I was gay. I'd been gay since I could remember knowing that playing with my dick felt good. Of course, I'd had a few experiences with boys and men when I was in high school, college, and medical school. But, none of them were more than a good time. I'd never had a lasting relationship. And that made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. I finally concluded I was a slut and didn't care that I was.
I'm 6'5" tall and weigh about 160 pounds and just out of medical school, so I'm 26. To say I'm tall and slender would be a kindness. Tall and skinny is more descriptive. But, where it counts, I take after my father. I had a very nice 9 1/2" dick that was 7" around and almost that big when it was flaccid. Men loved to get fucked by me, once they figured out how to take something that thick up their hungry holes. I'd bottomed a few times, but with a dick like mine, that didn't happen very often. If I were deciding my preferences, I'd say I was a top/versatile man. But, I wasn't as versatile as I wanted to be. And in this backward village, I wasn't sure it was going to make a difference either way. My chances for sex were somewhere between slim and none, leaning heavily toward the latter.
The community clinic shared space with the County Health Department and a small, but well furnished exercise club (run jointly by the Health Department and the Chamber of Commerce). There was no paid staff, but classes were held daily for the few residents who wanted to take an aerobics class and another class held every other day for senior fitness. During the non-class time, a part-time physical therapist would work with folks who needed her services. Otherwise, you just walked into the place and did your own thing on the exercise equipment (which consisted of a couple of universal gyms, two racks of free weights, three elliptical walkers, two treadmills, and four stationary bicycles). The door was unlocked at 6 a.m. each morning and locked up at 10 p.m. each night by the County Sheriff's Department. For that service, they were given free access (not that those two hippos used it).
It was my habit to workout each day that I was at the clinic. That was usually five days a week, but I was also on call in case of emergencies on weekends. My workout lasted about 75 minutes, focusing on a different body part each day. I was hoping to add some muscle to my slender build, but that was (so far) pointless. My body hadn't changed at all. But, I did feel toned and fit anyway. After the workout, I'd shower and go to the clinic.
A few curious men and high school boys would try to be in the locker room or in the showers when I finished my workout. My dick (evidently) was the talk of the town. Some days, I gave them a show, letting it lengthen and throb. However, they never saw it hard. I had my share of women "making nice" with me, but I couldn't have been less interested in them if I'd tried. I was cordial, even civil, with them, but it never went any farther. After three months, they all gave up.
But, there was one guy who always turned my head. He worked in construction (housing, commercial buildings, roads, just about anything that required a strong back and building skills) around the region. During the summer months, he was pretty scarce. But, during bad weather or the winter, he'd workout when I did. He was a hot looking, blonde, 22 year old, with big muscles everywhere on his 5'5" frame. He had to weigh close to 200 pounds. He may not have been very tall, but his broad shoulders and tree trunk legs were heavily muscled.
It was his hard bubble butt that got to me every time I saw him. It was high, hard, and round: just the way I like them. He was friendly, but not in a sexual way (as far as I could tell). He always checked out my dick when we were in the locker room or shower. And I checked him out, too. For a white boy, he was very well hung. I guess all his growth went into his dick. He didn't really hang big, but when mine would fluff up a little, his would lengthen noticeably. Eric wasn't self conscious about it, unless someone else was in the room. But, if it were just us, he'd be more relaxed. We were somewhat circumspect when our dicks started to get hard (kinda like putting your hands over your eyes, but spreading your fingers so you can still see). It was pretty silly (if you think about it), but it was the only pseudo-sex I was getting.
I'm sure we looked ridiculous together with me being a full foot taller than him. But, where it counted, we were well matched in the dick department.
This was a small town; everyone knew everybody else's business. I didn't know if he was afraid that it would get around that he liked dick, black dick, or that he was trying to "marry" a doctor. He wasn't a patient of mine, but he was a potential patient. My ethics as a physician wouldn't allow me to make the first move. Even if he did come on to me (which he never had), I wasn't sure I should reciprocate. This was a tough dilemma for me.
It was a Tuesday afternoon when everything changed. Eric was on a construction job nearby. He fell from the top of the second story of the building under construction. He landed on dirt, but to break his fall, his hands were outstretched. Eric broke bones in both hands and one arm. The foreman on the project brought Eric to the clinic immediately. As I was on duty that afternoon, I cleaned the wounds, x-rayed both arms and hands, his head, and knees, and applied the plaster to both arms and hands for casts. He had a nasty scrape on his head. He said that he didn't black out, but the foreman said otherwise. Fearing a concussion (and because he lived alone), I admitted him to one of our four in-patient rooms for overnight observation. I helped him undress and got him into bed. Nothing on the x-rays showed any damage to his head or knees, but his hands and one arm were fractured in several places.
My relief had already gone home for the day and our part-time nurse had left at noon. That left me with staying at the facility with Eric (he had no family in the region). As I had nothing better to do, I telephoned my landlady and asked her to pick up my mail and tomorrow morning's newspaper. I had no pets, so she didn't have to deal with them. Being the busybody she is, she wanted to know why I wasn't coming back to the apartment. I told her that I needed to do some doctor stuff at the clinic and I'd sleep here to save time. She saw right through that transparent excuse (I lived two blocks away), but didn't pursue it.
I gave Eric a mild sedative to relax him and a couple of painkillers. His accident aftermath had to smart! I stayed in his room with him until he'd fallen into a deep sleep. With time on my hands, I puttered around the clinic, straightening up some things, checking our medical supplies, and making notes of items that should be reordered. At 11 p.m., I decided it was time for me to get some sleep. I'd have to sleep in the same room that Eric was in, or I wouldn't hear him if he needed assistance. (There were no call buttons. This was a very small, rural clinic, not a true hospital.) I pushed another bed into the room (three feet away from him) and crawled into bed.
The part-time nurse would arrive at the clinic at 7 a.m. The other doctor would be available if needed, but would hold office hours at his own facility instead (two rooms at the side of his house in town) or would work in the Health Department. As infrequently as I saw him at the clinic, I wondered why they paid him at all.
Eric woke up at 4 a.m., groaning. The pain meds had worn off. I asked him if he wanted to take an injection or swallow some pills for the pain. He stiffened and asked who was in the room. I told him, "Dr. Carson." He signed and said that he'd rather swallow the pills than get poked with a needle. I smiled in the dark and flipped on a low wattage lamp. Eric looked over at me and smiled.
"Thanks, Doc," he said. "And I'm thirsty, too."
"Coming right up," I laughed, tossing back the sheet that had covered me. I walked into the locked room where we kept the narcotics and counted out two Tylenol 3s. From the faucet in the room, I filled a glass with water. With the pills in the palm of my hand and the water glass sitting on top of them, I relocked the drug room with my other hand and returned to Eric. His face didn't mask his pain at all. "What hurts?" I asked.
"Everything," he groaned.
I knew he'd probably bruised his shoulder and his knees when he'd hit the ground, despite his efforts to the contrary. "That's normal, but can you be a little more specific?"
He thought about it a moment and answered, "My hands, particularly the right one and I gotta headache."
I checked him over again, flicking my pen light into his eyes (normal reaction of his pupils), flexibility of his legs (only a slight groan produced there), and his shoulder and contusion on his head. All seemed to be in good order (except for the obvious trauma). "Is the cast too tight on either hand?" I asked.
"Seems to be fine," he answered rotating both carefully. I'd added ice packs to keep the swelling down. "But, they're cold."
"A little discomfort now will prevent swelling and having to do new casts tomorrow or the next day," I warned him.
He swallowed the pills and the offered glass of water. "Are we alone?" he asked. I nodded. He smiled. I smiled back at him. My dick jerked in my shorts. His dick jerked under the sheets. He looked to the side of the bed and saw my erect dick, struggling to free itself from the confining fabric. "I gotta take a wicked piss," he finally said.
"Bedpan's right here," I indicated to his right.
"Not a chance," he insisted. "I'm mobile enough to get myself to the bathroom."
"I'll walk with you to be sure you don't fall. These drugs can make you tipsy," I suggested. He nodded and threw back the light blanket and sheet. His hard dick was fully exposed. My dick responded with a pronounced jerk (which he saw) and a widening wet spot at the tip was soaking my shorts. Eric rolled out of bed and tottered. I reached for him and steadied him.
"Thanks," he smiled up at me. "I'm a little stiff."
"I can see that," I grinned, nearly laughing. When he saw my face, he burst out laughing.
"We both have that problem," he agreed, "but my knees are little banged up, too."
I walked beside him, but couldn't resist checking out his hot bubble butt that his open hospital gown displayed. Of course, that didn't help my stiffness at all. On the contrary, I was totally boned up.
I stood beside him at the toilet and pulled up his hospital gown so he could piss. His hard dick pointed up. "Maybe, you'd better sit for this one," I suggested.
"That wouldn't make any difference as hard as I am. It'd just stick up," he countered. He looked into my eyes. "Hold it down for me?"
I hesitated. Then, I decided that I was just helping a patient piss. I grabbed his dick and pushed own, aiming at the toilet bowl. He let go with a heavy flow after a few more seconds, and sighed with satisfaction. When his flow stopped, I squeezed it to get the last drops out (just like I did with my own dick) and dropped the gown back into place.
"Thanks, Doc," he smiled up at me again. "You have a nice touch."
I couldn't help it. I started laughing. He laughed right along with me, all the way back to his bed. I helped him into bed. (Just try to get yourself into bed with both hands incapacitated! It ain't easy!) With my best bedside manner, I pulled the sheet and light blanket half way up his magnificent torso.
"Get some rest, Eric," I said. "That's Nature's way of helping you heal." I patted his unbruised shoulder. "You'll probably hurt a little more tomorrow, but that's normal, too. Sleep well. And wake me if you need anything. I'll be right here." I turned out the light and slipped back into my bed. Thoughts of what I wanted to do with this incredibly hunky man next to me kept my dick hard for the next 30 minutes. But, Eric had slipped into a drugged sleep, so I was alone with the nasty thoughts.
The sun woke us up at 6:30. I gave him a sponge bath (desperately wanting to jack off his big dick or suck him off). His dick definitely liked being near me. Not once was Eric embarrassed, nor had he mentioned his boner. At 7:00, the nurse arrived. I told her what had happened, what she needed to do to keep him comfortable, and where I could be reached. I went home, showered, ate breakfast, and caught a short nap. With my "partner" in the clinic absent as usual, I was back at the clinic when the part-time nurse left at noon.
The afternoon was a snore (typical). Nothing happened. If it hadn't been for Eric's company, I'd have been watching the Food Channel, ESPN, or an old movie. I made my "round", visiting Eric frequently. His vital signs were all stable, so he could go home. But, he couldn't be alone without the use of his hands. I kicked around a couple of ideas, but nothing seemed to make much sense (considering his handicap). He really needed out-patient services, but those didn't exist in this farthest point from civilization.
In the back of my mind, I'd been toying with the idea of having him stay with me (so I'd still be reachable in case of emergency, he'd have someone to be his hands, and fewer tongues would wag if he stayed with me instead of me staying with him). I'd taken him to the bathroom three more times (helping him hold his dick down every time) and wiped his ass for him when he needed it. (You have no idea how much I wanted to kiss his butt (and more!) each time he showed it off!)
Finally, late in the afternoon, I suggested that he stay with me. Before I could detail all the reasons why he should do it, he pounced on it and agreed. I hoped I wasn't crossing the line in doctor/patient relations.
He gave me the key to his apartment, so I could get him some fresh clothes, a shaving kit, and his mail. I helped him get dressed (taking more delight than I should have in tucking in his hardening dick into his shorts). When my shift ended at 11 p.m., I helped him out the front door (locked it behind me) and walked the two blocks to my apartment.
Oh, Man! What was I thinking? I had only one bed in my two bedroom apartment. He'd be sleeping with me! True, it was a king size bed (to accommodate my long frame), but it would still appear very odd to an outsider. However, no one knew that I had but one bed (not even my landlady).
But, I'd have to break it to Eric before we got there. "Uh, Eric," I stammered, "the sleeping arrangements will be a little unusual." I glanced at him, but he didn't seem to react. "There's only one bed. I hope that's not a problem."
He turned to me with a smile. "I'm used to that. I've had a brother in my bed nearly all my life. Only the last couple of years have I been sleeping alone. Besides, you're the one who might have the problem. I've got two casts that could whack you pretty hard in the middle of the night."
I sighed with relief. He was gonna be cool with it. However, I knew that two randy men (both of whom had at least gay tendencies (not me of course! I was a full fledged, card carrying fag!), sleeping in the same bed could create some future issues. Was I crossing the line here? I was entitled to have a personal life (a gay life), but was I caring for a patient here or was I free to pursue him sexually?
"Because we'll be living together for at least six to eight weeks, you should call me Steve," I said as I opened my front door. "Make yourself at home."
"Sure thing, Doc, uh, I mean Steve," he grinned.
"I'll be at the clinic every weekday from three in the afternoon until eleven at night. But, I'll hit the gym before I go to work. I'll come back here to shower and check up on ya. So, we need to make this place as convenient as we can for you, considering your arms and all," I mused. "I'll rig up some kinda pencil or pen so you can push the buttons on the remote to the television. And you're free to read any books, newspapers, and magazines that I have, too (although I don't know how you'll turn the pages). We'll have to figure that one out."
"What about weekends? Aren't you on call?" he asked.
"Yeah, the Sheriff has my number. I'm sure you've seen the notice on the clinic door to call him after hours," I reminded him. Eric nodded. "So, you gotta be tired. Wanna get to bed?" He nodded again and yawned. "I'll get you the pain pills so you can sleep through the night," I added.
"Thanks, Steve, for all you're doing for me. This is way over the top for a doctor to do for his patient," Eric said. "I really do appreciate you helpin' me out."
"No bother at all," I replied. "Don't think anything of it."
I undressed him, but had no hospital gown. I left his shorts on, but he insisted that they come off too. He was used to sleeping in the buff. I shrugged and pulled his shorts down. His dick throbbed and continued to rise. "Sorry," he said self-consciously. Finally, he was slightly embarrassed by his burgeoning dick. "It has a mind of its own."
"I have the same problem, but, not in the degree that you seem to have."
"Well, uh, you see, Steve, I, uh, well, I jack every day, sometimes more. And I haven't, well, done it for nearly two days. I'm goin' crazy!"
"I know the feeling all too well."
"I hope it doesn't keep you awake," he warned. "When I'm not gettin' my nut, I toss and turn a lot, nearly constantly hard, desperate to squirt a load."
"With the meds I'm giving you, you should sleep pretty well," I assured him.
"And when I wake up after four hours?"
"I'll get you more painkillers if you need them."
After I brushed my teeth, I turned off the light (but not before he got a good look at my big dick), and slid into bed beside him. I'd noticed that the sheet was tented over his crotch. This boy was gonna have a problem if those pills didn't kick in. But, they did and he slept well. However, at three in the morning, he woke me up. "Steve, Steve! I need more meds to sleep and kill the pain." I groggily staggered into the bathroom, got two of his pills and a glass of water. I returned to the bedroom and handed him the pills and glass in the dark. (I'd completely spaced on the fact that he had both arms in casts.) He reached out for them, but grazed my dick instead with the tips of his fingers.
"A little higher, Eric," I laughed.
"Uh, sorry," he whispered. I moved closer and tipped his head up with my free hand. I pressed the pills to his lips, then the glass of water. He drank and thanked me, grazing my dick again with the tips of his fingers. I didn't pull away and neither did he. I turned away slightly and set the glass down on the nightstand on his side of the bed. "You have a beautiful dick," he whispered.
I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. About the time I resolved to stop this, I felt his warm lips engulf the rapidly expanding head of my dick. This time, I wasn't silent. I moaned with profound pleasure. It'd been several months since I'd had a man's lips on my dick. His soft lips felt so good! His hard casts encircled my legs and drew me nearer. I stumbled against the edge of the bed and fell forward. I caught myself, but not before several inches of dick slid between his sucking lips.
"Damn!" I whispered hoarsely. His head bobbed eagerly, making wonderful sounds that I'd almost forgotten. I ran my fingers down his hard, heavily muscled chest until my hand found his thick, upright organ. Encircling its heavy girth, I squeezed. I felt and heard him groan with pleasure.
"Please!" he begged, and went back to cocksucking.
I swung one leg over his head and got into a fast 69 with him. His dick was gushing precum as fast as I could lick it off. His nuts were drawn up tightly against the base of his 9" throbber. Eric's ardor for sucking my black dick nearly matched my own for getting sucked. I loved how his soft mouth felt on my jerking dick.
Without more than a couple seconds warning, I hit the point of no return. "I'm gonna cum!" I warned him. He sucked harder and growled fiercely. His dick jerked and his thick dickhead swelled. Cum sprayed across my tongue and jetted to the back of my throat. I swallowed greedily and sucked for more. His heavy bull nut sack rewarded me with five more delicious squirts of dick gravy.
I hadn't been counting his jets of cum. My own load was spraying his back teeth and tongue. His mouth had stretched wide to take my thickness, even though he didn't take more than three inches of shaft and the big head. As long as I nutted in a warm mouth or hungry hole, my dick was happy. Of course it was happiest when I was deep in a man's ass and was seeding him. I'd never found anyone who could take all of my manhood orally, though.
With sighs of pleasure, we sucked the last dribbles of cum from each other's semen launchers. I rolled back to my side of the bed, breathing as heavily as he was.
"Damn, you gotta BIG dick! That was awesome," he crowed. "Man, I needed that! And so did you," he giggled.
"I won't deny it, but that probably wasn't a good idea, Eric."
"Why not? We both had a good time. You're negative aren't you?"
"Yeah, but I'm your doctor," I protested.
"You're my sex partner, Steve. And you happen to be helping me out until the casts come off. Any good friend would do that," he insisted.
"I don't know many good friends who suck each other off," I countered.
"You do now."
"We need to talk about this, Eric," I began. "This doesn't feel right. I'm your doctor!"
"No harm, no foul," he whispered and yawned. The pills were kicking in again. We'd have to have the doctor/patient discussion in the morning.
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