Date: Wed, 8 Mar 2006 09:28:44 -0800 (PST)
From: John Black <blackhunk33@yahoo.com>
Subject: The New Doctor, Chapter 1

	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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