As soon as he walked into the little examination room Cole caught the young buck sitting on the exam table doing what he called, in his own head, the “triple play”—that was where the patient glanced at Cole’s oversized pecs, then cast a quick look at Cole’s crotch, then looked away, trying to not seem aroused or trying to avoid getting aroused.
Cole was very used to this behavior, and it kind of turned him on—especially when, as in this case, the subject was himself smoking hot. In the clubs, of course, guys stared openly at all his assets: loose, wavy blond hair, gorgeous face, naturally broad shoulders, heavy round pecs that pushed out any shirt he wore, thick upper arms and hairy forearms leading down to conspicuously large hands; tight, narrow waist curving into a perfect, round muscle ass capping long, long thick legs; and in the center of it all, a bulge so prominent it stood out no matter how loose his pants were. In the clubs, guys drank him in, drifted toward him, groped him helplessly: as soon as one or two guys started feeling up his hard, bulging torso on the dance floor, or the gym locker room, or even in the pasta aisle at the corner Food Emporium, it became okay for a whole group of guys to do so.
But in a doctor’s office, even in gayest Chelsea, it’s not considered proper form to ogle, much less fondle, your physician’s assistant, no matter how much his loose V-neck medical tunic seemed to invite running your hands up underneath, all over the hard eight-pack plateau that lay the shadow of his surreally large pecs, or how much his loose, baby-blue draw-string pants seemed to want to be, even need to be, yanked down those long legs to their natural resting place, draped around Cole’s ankles and across his size-14 shoes.
Cole checked his clipboard for the boy’s name. “How you doing, Ryan?” he asked, moving to stand directly in front of the patient. But Ryan didn’t respond. He still had his head turned aside—and his eyes were closed too, as if Ryan feared he’d orgasm all over the examining room if he spared Cole even a moment’s glance.
Cole knew that feeling. Guys did cum just from looking at him, all the time. It had even happened in here. Cole knew that a lot of guys who were anywhere as hot as he was quickly became conceited assholes. Cole wasn’t an asshole. He just knew he had a gift. And he really liked making guys happy. Very, very, seeing-stars happy.
Cole tried again. “How’s it going?” he said.
Ryan seemed to be concentrating, like he was working through some non-arousal exercise in his head. His brow was slightly furrowed. But he responded to the question with a curt, “‘Kay,” even if his face was still turned away from Cole and his eyes were still closed.
Cole paused to consider, taking stock of his subject as he did so. Ryan was incredibly cute: maybe 18 or 19, with long thick black hair chopped straight across just above his shoulders. His face was entrancing, even in its present attitude of rejection: some ineffable combination of brow, cheekbones, jaw, and lips seemed to entice Cole, drawing him in, and Cole knew he wanted to kiss those lips, make love just with their mouths and lips and tongues.
Ryan was equally engrossing below the neck: his lanky, limber body was not generously muscled like Cole’s but even through the simple green tee shirt and jeans it was clear that Ryan was both incredibly buff and tight and, Cole knew with clairvoyant insight, mind-bendingly flexible. Suddenly Cole had a vivid image of Ryan in his bed, completely relaxed even though he was bent in half, his hairy legs folded comfortably behind his shoulders.
Cole realized that he was getting powerfully aroused, his thick cock uncoiling in his boxer briefs, and decided to respect Ryan’s desire not to be faced with Cole’s own irresistible hotness. He stepped around the exam table so that he stood behind Ryan, adjusting his chubbing boner as he did so.
Ryan sensed Cole’s movement and relaxed his wide shoulders a bit, though he didn’t open his eyes or stop furrowing his brow in concentration. Cole realized that he found Ryan just as hot from the back as from the front—there was something very hot about the way his hair hung about his neck, just barely brushing his shoulders. Cole’s double-wide cock was almost completely hard now, and he became aware that he was breathing hard. Cole was astonished: he was never like this. He was not only astonished, he was fascinated.
With an effort he modulated his breathing and focused on the task at hand. “So what brings you in today, Ryan?” he said, trying to sound both friendly and professional, even as he adjusted his cock a second time. Ryan had indicated on the form that his new employer required a baseline checkup to start medical coverage, but Cole wanted to find a way to relate to his patient other than through his own arousal.
Ryan seemed to need a second to be able to speak, but when he did, it was another curt response: “Insurance checkup,” he said. The “s” in “insurance” was just a bit blurred, not quite a lisp—perhaps Ryan just had an unusually thick tongue. That would be hot …. no! Gotta stay professional. “Good,” Cole said. “Well, you seem—healthy—” He realized he was babbling and snapped his mouth shut, feeling chagrined, unaccustomed to not being in control. He picked up the stethoscope and rubbed the chestpiece to warm it up a bit. “Take your shirt off please.” Or let me help you. Wordlessly, Ryan pulled off his tee shirt, revealing a back that wasn’t especially muscular, but still had a naturally developed set of lats that gave him a very lovely V taper. Cole felt his whole body respond. He wanted to wrap his muscular arms around that lanky torso, he wanted to—he shook his head as if to dislodge his distraction from his mind. He realized he was completely aroused. Fuck, I’ve never been this hard in the exam room. Hope Dr. K doesn’t just walk in!
“Breathe in,” Cole said, placing the stethoscope chestpiece against Ryan’s back. Ryan did so, and they repeated the process.
Cole hesitated. “I need to move around front,” he said, and Ryan nodded. It felt weird—Cole felt strangely self-conscious. Normally he was fine with turning people on all the time, but now somehow he felt like he was imposing. Partly because he was so uncontrollably turned on himself. He moved slowly around the table until he was standing in front of Ryan, and was aware of both their breathing starting to quicken. God, his chest is perfect! Cole thought—not nearly as big as Cole’s melon-sized shirt-stuffer pecs, but thick and square and perfectly formed, with just a brush of hair in between. And below? Cole sucked in his breath: eight-pack abs, not deeply cut, but iron-hard and clearly defined, with a touch more dark hair trailing between them.
Ryan’s eyes were still closed, his face still turned away. He was shivering very slightly. Surreptitiously, his eyes fixed on Ryan’s sweet face, Cole repositioned his now-rock-hard boner so it was pointing straight up, trapped behind the draw-string waistband, three inches of super-wide cock exposed. Cole quickly pulled the hem of his tunic over it.
They repeated the stethoscope cycle twice more, Cole barely paying attention as he placed the chestpiece against each side of Ryan’s pecs, fixating more and more on the boy’s mesmerizing lips. They were standing closer to each other than before and were breathing almost in sync. Finally he set the stethoscope aside.
Cole picked up a tongue depressor. “I need to check your throat,” Cole said hoarsely. “Open wide.”
Ryan’s eyes jumped open in alarm, and they were staring into each other’s eyes. For a moment all Cole could see was a sea of endless blue. Ryan shook his head no, without breaking their mutual gaze. Cole expected Ryan to close his eyes again right away, and was upset that he might do so, but instead they stared deep into each other’s eyes for some time, their faces close.
“Open,” Cole said softly, firmly. Ryan’s eyes remained distressed, but his beautiful lips parted a tiny bit, fearful, yearning, compelling.
Cole couldn’t resist any more. He placed his own lips against Ryan’s and felt a very slight shock, and a shudder ran through Ryan’s body. Cole knew that no one had kissed him in a long time, and he felt elated that he would be the one to give Ryan this sweet kiss.
His own lips parted more, and Ryan, still not totally giving in, resisted. Another shudder ran through Ryan’s lithe body and Cole placed his warm, strong hands on Ryan’s wide shoulders to steady him. Cole’s touch on his exposed skin seemed to drive Ryan over the edge. His inhibition broke, shuddering into nonexistence. Ryan leaned into a deep, passionate kiss, his hands finding Cole’s broad, bulging shoulders. Cole allowed his long, thick tongue to expand into Ryan’s mouth, and Ryan, abandoning himself completely to this moment, did the same. Only…
At first Cole’s fevered mind didn’t parse what was happening. He felt the intrusion into his hot mouth of a thickening, hardening cock, a big porn-star cock, and his mouth immediately reacted with ecstatic fellatio, his lips and tongue ministering eagerly to the swelling, throbbing cock that was—and he always loved this sensation—expanding and boning up inside his own mouth. Flooded with passion, Cole escalated his sweet make-out with Ryan, his huge cock thrashing at his own waist, writhing free of the thin shirt he’d had draped over it, and Ryan kissed him back with a vengeance, his right hand behind Cole’s neck under his long cascading blond hair, his left hand finding Cole’s double-wind monster. Cole could taste precum already from Ryan’s delicious big cock—it wouldn’t be long.
As their kissing grew more intense, Ryan’s cock fully hard and gigantic in Cole’s mouth, Cole reached for Ryan’s crotch, awkwardly unzipping Ryan’s thin jeans and, reaching in, finding a gratifyingly long and thick cock—as big as the one that Cole was passionately sucking off—while they kissed with the fervor of long lost lovers. The analytical part of Cole’s mind suddenly was trying to get his attention—surely you realize something is strange here—but even as a flash of confusion washed over Cole’s consciousness, causing him to momentarily pause, his eyes opening, Ryan’s strong hand stopped Cole from pulling back, massaging his muscular neck, and Ryan’s other hand began smoothly stroking Cole’s enormous cock, and suddenly Cole didn’t fucking care, this was a dream—a dream come true, a chance, he understood later when his cognitive process started to realign again, to combine two of his favorite erotic pleasures, making out and sucking cock—and god, what a sweet, beautiful, big hard cock Ryan had in Cole’s mouth.
Cole and Ryan resumed their passionate mouthplay harder than ever—in Ryan’s case literally harder than ever—as they feverishly stroked each other, a luxurious second theater of intense tactile gratification. The feel of Ryan’s mouthcock was exquisite—it was the most awesome boner he’d ever had in his mouth—hard, and thick, warm, throbbing, the embodiment of masculine, and beyond the glorious feel of it it was leaking delicious salty precum as it pushed deep into Cole’s mouth, brushing his throat, Cole wrapping his long tongue around it any way he could, and Ryan was whimpering, obviously getting close, and then—pow, Ryan’s cock exploded in his mouth, and the big cock in Cole’s hand did the same, huge surges of cum, and there was so much cum in his mouth Cole had trouble keeping up with the volume of it, swallowing and swallowing and swallowing as they kept kissing, more sweetly now, and Cole realized he’d cum massively, Ryan’s hand still gently stroking his cum-covered pole, and he hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so caught up in Ryan’s huge orgasm.
As they descended from their orgasms Ryan and Cole fell back into a warm, comfortable, absurdly pleasurable make-out, Ryan’s cock softening only a little in Cole’s hot mouth, and Cole wondered if he’d be able to part his lips from Ryan’s ever again.
Cole was lazily tonguing Ryan’s mouthcock as they kissed. It was mostly soft, but still warm and hefty, and Cole was learning that this kind of making out with Ryan was nearly as hot as the other kind. He could still taste the last drops of Ryan’s salty spend, though, and it made him want to experience the rush of Ryan cumming hard as they fervently made out.
Cole thought of those rare orgasms where he’d been able to join the ecstasy of release with the sheer pleasure of mouth against mouth, lips sliding against lips, their twining tongues mimicking their writhing bodies. He loved kissing while he and his partner climaxed—it made things so much more intense—but nothing could have prepared him for what it was like with Ryan. He’d shot his load and he was still hand in Ryan’s loose, caressing fist—that’s how hot it was. He’d removed his fist from Ryan’s sensitive lower-down cock and had slid both hands up Ryan’s lithe, subtly V-shaped back, heedless of the trails of cum he was leaving along Ryan’s smooth, warm skin as they continued kissing like that was what they were made to do.
Cole had kissed a lot of guys, and he’d brought a lot of guys to release. Now all that seemed like meaningless preliminaries to this. There was something unspeakably illicit about what he and Ryan had done, as if Cole had stumbled upon a carnal secret that mortal men were not meant to know, a hidden form of lovemaking beyond the ken of those doomed to live in a world of mundane passions. Cole’s heart fluttered in the knowledge that this—sexy, sweet, shy Ryan making out with him while simultaneously being brought to fantastic release—was not just a thing that existed in the world but had emerged from hiding right into his arms. He held Ryan’s naked torso closer, pressing Ryan’s fist around Cole’s mighty cock between them as their mouths continued to savor each other. He found himself anticipating Ryan stiffening in his mouth anew, longing for it, just so that Cole could feel his hardness in his mouth as they kissed and make this beautiful young man blast his hot spunk down Cole’s throat all over again.
Ryan seemed to be feeling something similar. His grip tightened again around Cole’s thick, jizz-slicked shaft, and a soft, aching moan slid along Ryan’s thickening tongue as Cole nuzzled and stroked it with his own. Their kiss started to deepen, Ryan’s other hand around Cole’s neck urging them closer. Cole’s blood raced, and his double-wide cock surged in Ryan’s clenching fist.
The sudden, sharp knock at the door reported through the room like a gunshot. Cole and Ryan leapt apart in guilty alarm. Instinctively Ryan looked down and away from the door. Cole kept his eyes on him as he called out, “Yeah?”
A young, crisp female voice came through the door. “Hey Cole, when you’re done in there you’re needed in room 5.”
“Thanks, Sandy,” he called back. His heart was pounding, and he was having trouble tearing his eyes away from Ryan. Cole was only a couple of feet away from him, and already he looked vulnerable and alone. “Give me another minute in here.”
“Sure thing.” There was no sound of Sandy walking away, but the office admin was too busy to hover at doorways, and too professional to want to know what went on beyond them, were it to occur to her that her colleagues were any less professional than he was. He glanced down at his own exposed erection and the mess he and Ryan had made all over the front of his blue V-necked medical tunic, and felt a bit of chagrin creep through him at how he’d crossed a line that others usually crossed to try to get to him.
He waited a moment longer and then said in a low voice, “You okay?” Ryan just nodded, head still turned down and away.
Cole turned and pulled a few sanitary towelettes from the dispense on the counter. He cleaned his own hands first, then he moved back toward the exam table where Ryan remained seated, shirtless, pale, and still. He closed the distance between them and began gently cleaning Ryan’s lightly tanned skin, removing the drying cum from his tight, perfect abdominals and the thin line of dark hair that descended between them toward his jeans. He reached around and swiped away the trails of spend Cole had drawn across Ryan’s back with his own cummy hands, the actions bringing their warm bodies closer again though without touching, and Cole’s stomach swooped at the acute awareness he felt of Ryan being so near to him.
Without moving back, Cole moved his hand down to Ryan’s open fly and began methodically cleaning Ryan’s long, mostly flaccid cock, holding it gently in his other hand so that he could pull back the foreskin before carefully tucking it back into Ryan’s black boxer briefs through the open fly of his jeans (fortunately most of Ryan’s spunk seemed to have rocketed up and onto Cole’s scrubs, leaving Ryan’s jeans and shorts mostly unsullied). Cole kept is movements slow and gentle, keeping himself protectively close. He wanted Ryan to know that he was being taken care of, and Ryan seemed to understand. Though he kept his eyes averted Cole felt him relax from the stiff, wary posture he’d had since the interruption. Being this close to Ryan, though, was making Cole think of all the things he wanted to do with Ryan sometime when they weren’t in Cole’s bustling workplace surrounded by patients, medical professionals, and who knew who else. He could hear Ryan’s steady breathing as he kept his face turned away, and wondered if Ryan was thinking along those lines as well. Cole’s heart went out to him. With how hard he’d cum, and how quickly, he strongly suspected Ryan hadn’t felt a release like this in a long, long time. He marveled at the idea of this sweet, beautiful young man not having drawn a queue of men to cherish him and make him happy.
Reluctantly Cole stepped back from Ryan, handing him back his green tee, which he quickly shrugged into before zipping up his jeans. Cole gave his own flagging erection a quick pass with the wipes and shoved it with some difficulty back down into his jock. He pushed the wipes into the medical waste bin, then with a practiced motion he pulled his tunic off over his head and rapidly folded it into a small, neat square, setting it on the counter near the door. When he left the exam room he’d take a quick side-trip to the break room and stuff it in his messenger bag—it wouldn’t exactly do to have anyone else notice jizz stains on his uniform.
When he turned back to Ryan he saw the young man was staring at Cole’s broad, bare torso with huge, saucer-wide eyes. Quickly he looked away again, screwing his eyes shut as if trying to think of unerotic things. Cole’s lips quirked, though he felt kind of bad. He knew from experience that the only thing more likely to turn guys on than him in a tight, muscle-flattering shirt was him in no shirt at all, and it was kind of unfair to rile the poor guy up when he was minutes away from having to leave this little safe space they’d created for themselves and reemerge into the real world. It was hard enough hiding a boner for most guys, but Ryan had it especially rough in that department.
Cole figured covering himself up was the least he could do. He bent and retrieved one of the spare medical tunics from one of the lower cupboards, kept in all the exam rooms in case of accidents with patient fluids or other mishaps; fortunately there were extra-large ones meant for Cole specifically, as he was a good deal larger than anyone else at the practice (though the other PAs were pretty damn fit, and Dr. K himself was a crossfit fiend). He pulled it out of its bag—purple, he saw, not his favorite and not really a match for his blue scrub bottoms, but whatever. He hauled it on over his muscled torso. It was scratchier than the nicer, specially sized tunics he’d bought for himself, and not unsurprisingly it was a little tight across the pecs, but it would do for now.
He glanced at Ryan, then leaned back against the counter, hands resting on the countertop to either side of him, giving the man some space. “I’ve got to go back to work now,” he said. “But you can stay in here a minute or two if you need to.”
Ryan just nodded, his eyes still squeezed shut. Cole wondered how much practice he had shying away from things that turned him on and conjuring unsexy images to stave off unwanted arousal. Fuck, he wanted to fold Ryan into his arms and just hold him until he knew the thing that made him different was a gift and not just a curse.
Cole smiled wryly, aware he was about to utter five words that other guys said to him all the time. “Ryan,” he said, “can I have your number?”
Ryan was startled into looking back up at Cole, this time meeting his eyes. “You wand my number?” Ryan asked incredulously, his voice slurred and thick. He quickly raked his eyes down and back up Cole’s impressive physique, as if to remind Cole that he was the god, not Ryan.
Cole smiled. “Yes, Ryan, I ‘wand’ your number.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed slightly at this, as if he were unsure whether this was mockery or some kind of affectionate teasing, so Cole fixed his gaze on Ryan’s bright blues and added, very seriously, “I wand your number very, very much.”
Ryan stared at him. Then, though his lips stayed tightly pressed together, Cole watched them curve at the edges, exposing a hint of dimples on either side. Their eyes met, Ryan’s dancing, hope and excitement intruding on the wary anxiety that he’d seen there moments before.
Cole pulled his phone out of his pocket, set up a new contact, and handed it to Ryan, who keyed in his info quickly and handed it back. Cole glanced down at the screen and barked out a laugh. In the space for his first name, he’d cheekily typed “Ryan” followed by two eggplant emojis.
As if Cole would ever need reminding who Ryan was. “They should make a special emoji just for you,” Cole said with a grin, tucking his phone away. “You, uh, free tonight, Ryan Eggplant Eggplant?”
Ryan hesitated, though his closed-mouth smile stayed in place. He tilted his head to one side and back. Cole mimicked the gesture. “Tomorrow?” he guessed. At Ryan’s slight head-shake, he said, “Or just… later tonight?” This time Ryan nodded. “So, like, in the evening, after dinner maybe.” Ryan nodded again, eyes gleaming. Cole gave him a fake stern look. “You’re not meeting your boyfriend, are you? Got a fancy date all planned?” Ryan shook his head fervently, his long back hair brushing against his shoulders as he did so.
Cole felt his smile become wolfish. “I love that you can’t talk to me right now,” he said in a low growl, and Ryan ducked his head, cheeks coloring.
Time to make his exit. He opened the exam room door. “I’ll text you,” he said. Ryan lifted his head for a last look, a trace of longing having joined the excitement in his blue eyes. Cole tossed him a saucy wink and left, closing the door behind him.
Cole hurried into exam room 5, apologizing for keeping his patient waiting. It turned out to be Roger, a genial, handsome, black-and-gray-bearded middle-aged bruiser who’d been a star rugby player back in Brisbane and now played and helped coach a local amateur rugby club, which was apparently thriving despite most Americans not knowing the first thing about the game apart from it generally being played by hot, hairy Gerard Butler types like Roger. Like most guys Roger appreciated Cole’s physique and as usual spent his visit playfully trying to cajole Cole into joining the team. Cole just as amiably demurred, as always, but he was in good enough spirits to find himself vulnerable to Roger’s request that he at least come to a game.
Roger seemed to sense the new opportunity. “We’re playing the North Jersey Bandits on Sunday,” he prodded as Cole removed the blood pressure cuff. “Big grudge match, lots of blood on the pitch—might need an extra medic,” he added with a wink.
“All right, all right, I give,” Cole said with a smile as he put the apparatus away. He hesitated. “Can I… maybe bring a friend?” he asked.
Roger grinned wide. “Ah, it’s like that, is it?” he asked knowingly.
“No!” Cole said, taken aback—Roger’s gleeful tone sounded like it practically had him and Ryan all married and getting a dog together and everything. He picked up the clipboard from the counter and pretended to focus on the notes he was writing in Roger’s file. “It’s not like that,” he said. Then he added, “Not yet, anyway.”
Roger nodded sagely. “I understand,” he said. He looked Cole over. “Tell me, mate, have ya ever had an actual boyfriend?”
Cole glanced up from the clipboard with an eyebrow cocked. “You think I’m such a player, I never stick to one guy,” he said in mock accusation.
Roger was still smiling, a little smugly now, like he had Cole’s number and knew it, the bastard. “Well, have you?” he pressed.
Cole dropped his eyes again, a little guiltily. “It hasn’t come up,” he muttered, scratching in the remaining notes on Roger’s impressively healthy condition.
“That’s what he said.”
Finishing his notes, Cole set aside the clipboard and faced Roger, crossing his arms over his chest. “I suppose you have some fatherly advice for me,” he said with droll skepticism.
“I’m going to ignore that little remark, ya whelp,” Roger said genially. “But I do have some advice.”
When he didn’t go on, Cole prompted him with raised eyebrows. Roger jumped off the examination table and pulled on his crisp, blinding-white dress shirt over his darkly tanned and rugby-guy hairy torso. As he buttoned, he matched gazes with Cole. They were both the same height, around 6’1”, and in that moment Cole felt oddly like they were counterparts in some way, like Cole’s brash cockiness might someday weather into Roger’s shrewd confidence. “My advice,” Roger said, “is… forget about yaself.”
Cole frowned. Was Roger saying Cole was conceited? His brow furrowed deeper. Was he conceited? He had to admit that when it came to his looks, it wasn’t the most impossible thing in the universe.
Roger seemed to be seeing right through him. “Forget about yaself,” he repeated. “You worry about him, he worries about you. Either it evens out, or it doesn’t. If it does, then she’ll be right as rain. If it doesn’t, then one of you is too full of himself for it to work, and it’s the right thing to move on and try another.”
“You think that’ll be me,” Cole said. “The one who’s too full of himself.”
Roger had finished with his buttons and was tucking his shirt tails into his dark cotton trousers. “Naw,” Roger said easily. He clapped Cole on the shoulder and said, “when the right guy comes along, ya know better.” Then he pointed his finger at Cole and added, “I have ya locked in for Sunday, right? You and your friend?”
“No worries,” Cole said placatingly.
“Right. I’ll text ya the details.”
The texting remark reminded Cole of his promise to text Ryan, and he realized he really had no experience trying to cultivate something real with another guy. And it was more or less at that moment that Cole realized he did want something real with Ryan, and not just mind-blowing sex of a kind he could never have with anyone else. Just the way Ryan had gotten to him and broke down all his defenses, getting him completely aroused and engaged, almost to the point of testing his control. Cole, used to the way his physical presence excited and provoked others, had been brought to runaway stimulation just from laying eyes on the man. And that was before Ryan had revealed that thing that was truly different about him—before he’d shared himself with Cole, giving them both the kind of experience only the two of them could haver together.
In a way, that singular form of intimacy had forged a connection so much deeper than the brilliance of their sexual release together. Ryan was special—and what happened when they kissed was only the beginning of that. He’d felt not just aroused but protective of Ryan from the beginning, even before he understood the layers of his attraction for the man. Think of Ryan flooded him with emotion and need.
His friend was turning to go. “Roger?” Cole said, and Roger turned back, looking at him expectantly. “Does all that really work? The… worry-for-him,-he-worries-for-you thing?”
Roger held up his left hand and tapped the platinum band there with his other hand. “Almost thirty years,” he said with a broad grin. “See you Sunday, Casanova.”
Cole sped through three more patients, taking vitals and marking down symptoms and histories, before he got a chance to duck into the break room and text Ryan. Closing the door behind him to create at least an illusion of privacy, he sat on the small couch next top the supply cabinets and typed:
—hey it’s me, cole
He paused, then added,
—miss me yet? ;)
Hey, it’s not “bad” cocky if it’s just flirting, right?
He waited a full agonizing minute before the floating ellipsis told him a response was coming. A moment later it appeared.
—so much. i’m getting hard just thinking of you :p
The mere thought Ryan getting hard made Cole’s own massive prick swell instantly to half hardness in the confines of his jock. He was also concerned, though, and typed:
—shit, are you at work? fuck, i’m sorry. should i have waited?
He wasn’t sure if Ryan worked or not—insurance physicals were usually for a new job, but Ryan might go to college or have some other reason for changing insurance. Ryan’s special situation was a turn on, in a weird way. Having a big cock meant sometimes getting caught with a boner that was just too big to hide, and there was a kind of kinky thrill in that—and Cole could at least sort of hide his behind the bottom of his tunic, more or less, if people chose not to look down and ignored his flushed cheeks and darkened pupils. But Ryan—there was no way to his his boners if they went all the way to full, aching hardness, and Cole had to admit to himself that that was pretty damn hot.
Ryan, though, responded quickly, setting him at ease:
—lol no, i’m at home, i got the morning off so i could go see *you*
—i can get hard all i want ;)
Cole shuddered. He imagined Ryan curled up in bed in some cozy neighborhood apartment, his mouthcock so completely boned it couldn’t be contained, so that it was thrusting insolently out from between those full, kissable lips. Suddenly Cole himself was fully erect and rigid, his massive tool slipping from his jock so that it was throbbing against his drawstring trousers. He typed:
—you fucker, i *am* at work :(
—lol, Ryan typed again. am i turning you on, stud?
Christ, the kid was as cocky as he was—at least when it came to texting.
—you’re pretty smug when you don’t have to talk around that thing, aren’t you?
Ryan replied immediately:
—normally i don’t engage with guys, even guys i like or think might like me
—but dude you make me so fucking hard
—i can’t hold back with you
I know the feeling, Cole thought. He typed back:
—so much to say and you can’t even talk—thank god for texting, right?
—we might have to have all our conversations this way :)
—even when we’re in the same room
—because as soon as I see you i’ll get completely totally fucking turned on
Cole’s heart was racing. His dick was demanding attention, and he suddenly regretted not having this conversation in the bathroom instead of the break room. Or in an unused exam room where he’d be able to lock the door and—Wait, what was he thinking? He couldn’t just jack off at work! Jesus, what was this guy doing to him?
His rational mind suggested stopping the convo and putting down the phone. But his rational mind was not in control at the moment. His breath sounding a little ragged in his ears, Cole typed:
—ryan, buddy, when we’re in the same room there’s not gonna be a lot of talking
—all i can think about right now is making out with you
—grabbing your stuff dick my hand and kissing you hard and deep until we both cum
Ryan typed back quickly:
There was a couple moments’ pause, then:
—shit cole i just came
—i actually just came all over my phone
—and my shirt
—just from that you made me cum all over the place
—fuck cole i’ve never been this turned on and horny in my entire life
—what the fuck *are* you? are you like sex crack or something?
Cole stared at his screen. Suddenly he felt it—the explosion welled up within him. Electric surges of raw pleasure flashed through him like lightning storms, and he realized with dismay that his orgasm was past stopping. In seconds his dick was going to erupt and shoot cascades of hot jizz into the fabric of his drawstring trousers, right here in the fucking break room. Cole tossed his phone down on the cushion next to him and threw open the supply cupboard next to the couch, looking hectically for something that might contain the eruption. He grabbed the first viable candidate he saw. Just in time he pulled his giant dick free and got the thing over the end, and a second later Cole was in the blinding throes of pure, soaring orgasm without having given his tool so much as a single stroke, shooting hard over and over again like a teenager who hadn’t blown a load in months.
Only as he was coming down from the release, breathing hard, did he remember his phone. He picked it up with his free hand and saw Ryan had been texting him, clearly unnerved by Cole’s lack of response:
—sorry, i shouldn’t have said those things
—it’s just—you should know that you drive me crazy
—you deserve to know that
With the thumb of his right hand, which slowed him down a little, Cole typed:
—dude, it’s okay
—telling me all that made *me* cum
Quickly Ryan shot back:
—no way! for real?
—were you, like, with a patient or anything? did you blow your load right in your little medical pants?
Cole grinned at the teasing. He pulled the thing he’d grabbed and grimaced at it, setting it aside on the counter over the cupboard and screwing the cap on. He grabbed some wipes from the dispenser next to it—fortunately they were everywhere in an office like this—and cleaned his hand and his still hard prick, tucking it away so that it lay, still audaciously erect, under the soft fabric of his trousers. He sighed and returned to his phone.
—ha ha. no, i’m in the break room with the door closed
—and fortunately i was able to find something to spooge into at the very last second
Ryan responded immediately:
—oh god what did you spooge into dude
—tell me tell me tell me
Cole sighed. Reluctantly, he fessed up:
—a fucking specimen cup!
Ryan’s response was almost instantaneous
—seriously, literally lol
Cole frowned and replied with a question mark. Ryan typed back:
—laughing out loud around my boner :D
—dude you have to bring it with you later
—i have to see the specimen cup that was your emergency spooge receptacle
Cole laughed. He briefly massaged his aching, still-hard boner through his cotton drawstrings before he again remembered where he was and yanked his hand away.
—fuck you, this is all your fault
—it’s all *your* fault for being so hot, hot guy, Ryan responded.
—you’re ten times hotter, which makes it totally *your* fault dude, Cole shot back.
There was a pause, then Ryan replied:
—do you really think i’m hot?
Cole shook his head and typed:
—said the guy who just made me blow a huge load without even touching myself…
Ryan’s response was unexpected, though Cole realized it shouldn’t have been:
—you just think i’m hot because of my dick though
Cole almost growled. He typed:
—dude, you had my blood racing before i even *knew* about that
—i’m so into you i wouldn’t care if you had *no* dicks
Ryan’s response made Cole imagine him gaping at his (presumably cleaned-off) phone:
Cole responded quickly, snorting to himself:
—okay that’s probably going too far :)
—but not kidding about being turned on as soon as i saw you
—i’m way into you ryan, not just your dicks
Cole frowned at what he’s just typed. It wasn’t exactly a Shakespearean sonnet, but he couldn’t quite think of how to say what he wanted to. After a few long seconds Ryan typed back:
—i’m way into you, too
Cole’s heart skipped. Then Ryan went on:
—not just your huge pecs
—or your washboard abs
—or your gorgeous face
—or your fucking ponderosa cock!!
Cole actually laughed out loud himself, but he only typed:
—all right, all right! and for the record
—you have a beautiful body too
—i want to hold you in my arms after making love to you all night
Ryan’s perplexed response was:
—wait you want to hold me all night, or make love to me all night?
They chatted a few minutes more, Ryan promising to text him once he was out of whatever it was he was doing for dinner, at which point they’d sort out whether to go to Ryan’s place or Cole’s—neither of them made any pretense of going anywhere but someplace private where they could be alone.
A rap on the door made Cole look up just as Sandy poked her head in. “Ah, here you are,” she said, in a tone that said she’d been wondering what mischief he’d been up to.
Cole bit his lip. Though his erection had softened to the half-hard state he seemed to favor whenever he had Ryan on his mind but they weren’t actually driving each other to release, Cole felt a teenager’s chagrin at potentially being caught out in a post-orgasmic state, and he willed the specimen cup on the counter next to him to suddenly become invisible. Sandy, however, was more focused on Cole’s phone and the way he was obviously sharing an intimate text conversation.
“New boyfriend?” she guessed, a little too shrewdly.
“None of your beeswax,” Cole replied, though he knew his smile answered her question in the affirmative. “You got a patient for me?”
She gave him a sly look from behind her glasses. “Room 3, when you’re ready.” She disappeared, leaving the door ajar, and Cole sighed. The whole practice—doctor, PAs, and staff, and patients too, probably—would soon know, probably by end of business day, that the superstud, unlandable Cole finally had his very own canoodling buddy. By the end of the week they’d be planning out his and Ryan’s lives together, demanding all the details and using their fertile imaginations to fill in any he neglected to supply.
The thought was appealing, him and Ryan together, and Cole felt a dopey grin spread across his face. How awesome would it be if, this time, they were right?