Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 15:56:38 -0400
From: Shaver Boy <shaverboy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Doctor's Orders (Chapter 2) (teen, mast, voyeur)

NOTE: This is a work of fiction that depicts sexual situations between
men and teenagers. If that offends you or you are under 18 years old,
don't read on. And remember, it's a fantasy, guys. Keep it that way.

Comments are appreciated to shaverboy@yahoo.com

CHAPTER 2 -- OF POLLEN AND PENISES

   That night.

   I can remember that night like it was yesterday. I watched TV but all
that was going through my mind was a video replay of that afternoon:
Feeling Dr. Owen's hand on my dick; slipping off my underwear; stroking
my dick; the soft splat of my jizz hitting the floor.

   How did I feel about it?

   To say I was confused is pouring way too much into it. I was 13 for
God's sake. I wasn't that analytical. I wasn't trying to figure it all
out. The plain fact of the matter was that I was excited: somebody had
watched me jack off, had WANTED to watch me jack off. I was also ashamed:
what kind of sicko was I that I WANTED someone to watch me jack off? It
never occurred to me that the doctor might be just a teeny bit odd for
wanting to see me beat off. I was 13. All I cared about was how I felt.

   I went upstairs and got ready for bed. I took off my clothes and stood
in the middle of my room, in front of the window, my hard dick sticking
out and I stroked off, re-enacting that afternoon to the point of my
shooting cum all over the floor. After wiping that up, I lay in bed
naked, re-running the scene in the office again, caressing my dick and
balls. I ended up doing it again.

   Then the guilt kicked in. What was wrong with me? Not that I did it,
but that I LIKED it. I must be a horrible person. I mean, I liked girls,
had even made it as far as feeling up this 15 year old girl's boobs
while we frenched away like crazy at my friend Bobby's house earlier in
the summer, all of us getting buzzed on Bobby's dad's Southern Comfort
and Coke. But truth be told, what had happened at the doctor's made me
even hotter than that.

   OK, at this point, I'm sure you're thinking `what a dope'. Or
`poor kid'. Or `poor dopey kid'.

   I was in a lot of ways, pretty naïve. And also, very horny. I wanted
to do it again. Or I didn't want to do it again.

   I guess confused does kind of sum it up.

   I had swim practice the next day. My best friend, Chip, who lived next
door to me, was already there. Chip and I had been friends since 5th
grade. I found myself thinking I wanted him to see me do it too. But no
way was that going to happen.

   I had an even harder time than usual at practice, trying to keep my
dick from poking a hole right through my Speedos. I was the first one in
the water and boy did I swim like a son of a bitch, hoping the
combination of cold water and exertion would deflate my hard dick. It
worked. But it was a temporary fix and I knew it. The moment I headed for
the locker room, I was at full attention again. Somehow, I thought it
best to skip the shower that day.

   Chip and I rode our bikes back to my house after practice. I found
myself looking at him as we rode, shirts off to catch more late summer
tanning. Chip was just a little shorter than I, about 5'3" (we were
always the two shortest in the class). He had brown hair, always cut in a
buzz, and a stocky, solid little body. His butt was also stocky and solid
and as I followed him down the road through our subdivision, I found
myself staring at it.

   We got back to my house and went upstairs to my bedroom. Chip flopped
down on my bed and I fell down next to him. We talked about school, which
was starting in a couple of days. I chatted away, but all that was
running through my mind was trying to find a way to get naked in front of
him. And get him to do the same.

   Chip sat up. "Man, I am starved. Why don't we head up to McDonalds
and grab a Big Mac or something?"

   "Sure," I said, the wheels in my head spinning like crazy. "But let
me clean up a little first."

   "Why didn't you shower at the pool?" Chip asked.

   "I didn't want to shower and then put my old sweaty clothes on.
It'll just take a minute." Chip looked at me a little funny but
shrugged and said OK. He grabbed a magazine as I headed for the bathroom.

   I closed the door and immediately stripped my clothes off. I turned on
the shower and as I waited for the water to warm up, I ran my hands over
my smooth chest. My dick, ever ready, was starting to rise again. I took
it in hand and gave it a few tugs as I stepped into the shower. I grabbed
the soap and quickly lathered up. My dick was tilting up from my crotch
and wagging in front of me with its little curve to the left. My hands
were shaking as I lathered it too. I kept wishing Chip would walk in to
the bathroom at that moment.

   Well, he didn't. I finished up my shower and toweled off. I wrapped
the towel around my waist, pinning my still hard pole against my stomach,
and walked back to my room.

   Chip was still lounging on the bed, paging through the magazine. I
plopped down right next to him. He looked at me.

   "Well, aren't you gonna put some clothes on?"

   I fell back flat on the bed. "Yeah, I guess, I just was feeling
really comfortable like this. You know what I mean?"

   "I guess so."

   I got a little bolder. "Like, don't you like laying around naked in
your room? I mean, it just feels good."

   "I've got three sisters, Doug. Like I'm really gonna lie around
without clothes when they're gonna bust in my room any second."

   "Cathy never comes in here. She knows better." I think I'd made it
clear to my younger sister that my room was off limits.

   "Well, get moving. I'm hungry." Chip was getting a little annoyed
at me.

   "OK," I sighed, pushing myself off the bed. My towel slipped off as
I did. I stood up, my dick still about three quarters hard. Chip stared
at me. My dick started hardening the rest of the way. He watched it as it
jerked upward.

   I blushed. "It just gets that way a lot." I decided to see if I
could get him to talk about it. "Does yours do the same thing?"

   Chip was red as a beet. "Um, yeah, I guess sometimes." His eyes were
still glued to my dick.

   "You ever rub it?"

   "Huh?"

   "You know, rub your dick til it shoots." A shiny drop of precum was
starting to leak out of my piss slit.

   "Um, no. You're gonna make a mess. It's gonna drip. Does it do that
a lot?"

   "Yeah doesn't yours?" My heart was pounding, I was standing naked
and hard in front of my best friend.

   "No. Why does it do that?"

   "I don't know. It makes it easier to rub it though. Like if I rub
this stuff all around it, it feels really good. The doctor told me it's
called masturbation when you rub it til it shoots"

   Chip's eyes opened wider. "Your doctor talked to you about this?"

   "Sure. He asked me all about it." I couldn't tell him that I'd
done it for him. I just wasn't ready to share that.

   "Like, what did he ask you?"

   "He asked how much I did it."

   Chip hesitated a moment. "And how often do you?"

   "Like every day. He said that was normal."

   By now, a clear dribble of precum was hanging a good 6 inches from my
hard cock.

   I watched Chip's unblinking gaze. I wanted to show him.

   "You want to see?"

   Chip sat quietly for a minute. Then he stood up and walked toward the
door. "Man, you are too weird. Get dressed. I'll see you downstairs."

   I was hurt. I could tell he really DID want to see me do it. I was
pretty sure he was hard too. But I guess I'd pushed a little too much.

   I lay down on the bed and began stroking. It took no time before a
load of goo splashed all over my stomach, all the way to my neck. I was
panting. I slowly got up and wiped myself off with the towel. I got
dressed and came down stairs. Chip was sitting on the front porch. He
said nothing as I came out the door.

   I sat down next to him. "I'm sorry if I pissed you off.

   "It's OK," he said quietly. "I just wasn't expecting that."

   I stood up. "Let's go get something to eat."

   He got up and walked to our bikes. Without looking up, he said, "By
the way, you ought to close your blinds at night too."

   I started to reply but he rode off. I followed.





   For the next two weeks, I kept on about my normal routine. But the
thoughts of what had happened both excited and disturbed me. School
started and I found myself daydreaming in class, trying to hide my boner
under a math book. In the afternoons, Chip and I would ride our bikes and
go to swim practice twice a week or go exploring out in the woods not far
from where we lived. I kept trying to think of some way to bring the
subject of jacking off up to him again. So far, nothing had come to mind.
And then I would go home and jack off. And do it again at night.

   I never did close the blinds.

   It was a Saturday morning and I had to go in to the doctor's office
to get my allergy shot. I'd been fighting a losing battle with ragweed
pollen and mold and the like since I was a little kid and had started
taking shots about a year or so before. It seemed to help. At least I
wasn't sneezing my head off all the time. Every two weeks I would go in
and the nurse would give me my shot and that was it. Mom would wait out
in the car while I went in.

   So I thought that day would be about the same as always. I admit that
going into the office there, I had flashes of what had happened two weeks
earlier. But this was really just back to the old routine.

   I was sitting in the lab, waiting for the nurse to give me my shot
when Dr. Owen walked past. He stopped and smiled and said he wanted to
talk to me after I was done. I felt my heart pounding. But honestly, I
didn't think anything would happen. After all, I was dressed and there
was no way anything was going to happen again. He probably just wanted to
tell me about test results or ask me about my swimming. I wasn't sure
whether I was relieved or disappointed.

   The nurse stabbed me in the arm and I got up and walked down the hall
to Dr. Owen's office. He was sitting at his desk, writing something. He
looked up at me and smiled and then told me to close the door. I did and
then went over and sat on the couch.

   "So how's the new school year going?" he asked, looking at me
across the desk.

   "OK. Not much different."

   "Still swimming?"

   "Yeah, but not as much now."

   "Are you still masturbating every day?"

   Boom! There it was. I felt my dick start to inflate. "Um, yeah, I
guess." I was turning red again.

   Dr. Owen "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Have you done it
today?"

   My heart was pounding. "Yeah. This morning."

   "I see. Where did you do it?"

   "In the shower."

   "Well that's a good place. No worries about making a mess. You seem
a little excited. Do you like talking about masturbating?"

   I looked at the floor. "I don't know. It's OK, I guess."

   "You have an erection, don't you?"

   I nodded. No point in denying the obvious.

   "I should look at it again. Stand up and unzip your pants."

   He said it so matter-of-factly that it seemed like the most natural
thing in the world as I got up off the couch, unbuckled my belt and
opened my jeans. Dr. Owen got up from the desk and came over to me. He
pushed my snug jeans halfway down my thighs. A wet spot was showing on
the front of my briefs where my dickhead was pushing against them.

   "You produce a lot of pre-seminal fluid, I've noticed," he
observed, rubbing his finger against the wet spot.

   "I-is that what it's called?" I asked nervously.

   He continued to rub gently. He smiled. "Well, that's the technical
name. Most people call it precum."

   I stored that one away to tell Chip, the only one who I think had a
less developed vocabulary in this area than I did.

   He reached down and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of my underwear
and shoved them down. My dick popped up, bobbing up and down in front of
me. The doctor took it in his hand. He squeezed the shaft and a big glob
of precum oozed from the tip.

   "Yes you are a drippy one. Well actually, that is a good thing for
you in the long run. It causes much less friction. You probably don't
even have to use any lubrication on your penis when you masturbate do
you? Most circumcised boys have to use Vaseline or some sort of oil or
lotion."

   He let go of my dick and reached underneath, cupping my balls in his
hand, manipulating them with his fingers.

   "Your testicles are quite developed for a boy your age as well. No
wonder you pump out semen like you did last time. And not surprising that
you masturbate every day. You do it more than once a day, don't you?

   I nodded. "Sometimes."

   "Most of the time, right?"

   I was shaking from a mixture of embarrassment and horniness. "Yeah, I
guess."

   "You're wanting to do it now aren't you?"

   Oh, well. Why deny it? "Yeah"

   He released my balls and stepped back toward the desk. "Well, go
ahead. But you probably should take off your clothes. You don't want to
mess them up."

   He took his seat at the desk, leaving me standing in the middle of the
room. Without a word, I slipped my tee shirt off and bent down to untie
my tennis shoes. I pulled my pants and underwear the rest of the way off
and removed my socks. My clothes were now in a pile on the floor and I
stood naked and hard. The doctor sat calmly and fully clothed at his
desk. Something about that made it even hotter for me.

   "Well, go ahead."

   I slowly took my dick in my right hand and began to stroke. With my
thumb, I rubbed the oozing lube over the head and then down the shaft.
The doctor sat and watched.

   "Spread your legs a little."

   I did. Somehow, that made me feel even more exposed. My balls hung
free between my outspread legs as I continued massaging my achingly
sensitive cock.

   "Why don't you play with your testicles a little too? You do that
when you're by yourself, don't you?

   I nodded and began feeling and caressing my balls as I picked up speed
on my dick. My knees were shaking now. I knew I wouldn't last much
longer. He seemed to realize that too.

   "Doug, cup your hand in front of your penis to catch your semen.
Shoot it in your hand."

   I did as he said, just in time. My dick began spewing jet after jet of
hot thick juice. I caught some of it in my hand. The rest splashed on to
the floor. I stood there panting. I had never cum so hard in my life.

   Dr. Owen sat calmly watching me. "Have you ever tasted your semen,
Doug?"

   I shook my head.

   "Lick your hand."

   I stared at him and then at my cum-covered palm.

   "Go on. It won't hurt you."

   Slowly I raised my hand to my mouth. I hesitated and then stuck my
tongue out and touched it to the thick milky liquid. It tasted strange --
slightly salty, a little sweet, indescribable.

   "Lick it all up, Doug."

   I hesitated again and then I did it. I licked my hand until I had
cleaned all the jizz from my palm and fingers. Suddenly I felt
embarrassed to be standing there naked in front of this man, my half-hard
dick still dripping the remnants of my load.

   Dr. Owen sensed my discomfort. "Don't worry, Doug. You're a growing
boy and at your age your hormones are going to make you horny a lot.
You've developed earlier than a lot of boys your age. We'll need to
check on this to keep track of your progress. I'm going to need to check
a few things next time you're in to see just how much you're
developing. Plan on spending a little extra time on your next visit. Now
get dressed. I'm sure your mom is waiting for you."

   I nodded. I put my clothes on and walked out of the office. As I took
the elevator down to meet my mother, I replayed the events in my mind. I
could still taste the cum I had licked up. As I thought about it, my dick
began growing again in my pants.

   I knew what I was going to do the minute I got home.

   TO BE CONTINUED . . .