Funny Bone

by Daniel W. Kelly

  I gave Ron a clean bill of health and told him to come again in a year.

  When that year arrived, I was thrilled to find him as my last patient of the day. I walked into the examination room and…well…you know how time fades your memory of someone you’ve seen only once, and you start to think your recollection is partially making him better than he actually was so you can use that new composite image to masturbate? My memory couldn’t have prepared me for this. He was better than my mind could ever have recalled. He had grown a tough-looking salt-and-pepper goatee, and this time around, his boxer briefs were dark blue. I gave him the usual knee-weakening physical checkup (his nipples were more delectable than the first time), but before I could tell him to drop his underwear for me, he said he knew the drill, and once again climbed his hot ass up on the exam table.

  I slipped on the old glove (okay, a new, sanitary glove) and grabbed the lube. He was definitely looking like an old pro who knew the drill was coming. He had his back well arched so his cheeks were widely spread, and I could practically make out his deep purple anus through his crack hair. His big balls and dick were even more prominently dangling between his legs than the year before, and his friggin’ dick had already become semi-erect! I really fought a losing battle to keep my own dick from being in the same state in my pants. Hopefully, I would be able to control it and it wouldn’t grow past half-mast.

  This time around, when I’d parted the cheeks completely and tickled his anus with a finger stroke of the gel, it pulsed harder than the previous year and his groan was a lot louder. This guy was turning me on so bad I had to keep reminding myself it was business, not pleasure—although it really pleased me to do business with his ass. I felt around a bit, and once again he took it like a gutturally groaning man. I explained that I just wanted to do a slightly more thorough rectal. I applied some more lube to both my index finger and my middle finger. I warned him that this was going to feel more intense. And boy, did it. He gripped me like a Venus flytrap. His groan sounded almost sexual, rising in pitch as my combined fingers buried themselves inside him.

  It was just at that moment that there was a light knock on the door and Steve poked his head in to tell me the test results were in for one of my patients. Fact was, Steve had already told me that before I came in to see Ron. I knew damn well he just wanted to get a peek at the patient we both had a crush on. While he was giving me this recycled information, I worked on Ron’s insides without focusing much, so I was sort of wiggling my fingers around inside of him with no real motive—or no good motive.

  Steve always looks adorable in his snug male nurse uniform and his masculine presence is strongly felt when he’s in a room, so he apologized for intruding and called over Ron’s shoulder for him to not be modest because Steve saw this kind of thing all day long and didn’t think twice about it. Then he looked at me and let his eyes pulse wide while mouthing the word “HOOOOOOT!” I would say there was approximately that many Os implied, based on how long his jaw was dropped.

  As soon as he was gone, I turned my focus back to Ron’s domes and began to dig inside him again. Suddenly, I felt his asshole convulsing and making mincemeat out of my fingers. Ron grunted “shit!” and next thing I know, there’s cum flying out of his now fully erect, monster cock and all over the blue boxer briefs that were bundled up under his knees. There was nothing I could do. My fingers were at his mercy. I had to wait until his climax was complete for his strangling sphincter to finally release them.

  I immediately withdrew them as he turned over. I don’t know which one of us had a redder face. He was pretty much speechless. I grabbed some disposable towels nervously from the supply cabinet for him to clean up, explaining to him that it was okay, nothing to be embarrassed by, that it happened sometimes, that some men who didn’t even know it have extremely sensitive prostates. He just sort of murmured “okay” as he wiped cum from his boxer briefs, then stood and wiped globs of lubricant from his ass crack before shamefacedly pulling up his undies. I took the balled-up towels from him with my still gloved hand and tossed them. Then I exited, giving him a chance to dress in private.

  I also needed privacy. I locked myself in my office, heart thudding against my chest. I was imagining Ron getting all homophobic about his own reaction to a rectal exam and accusing me of sexual harassment. I could be slapped with a huge lawsuit—have my license taken away. I was absolutely terrified.

  And that terror stayed with me for exactly two weeks.

  *

  “One more patient to go and we’re outta here,” Steve said as he handed me a clipboard. This was his daily “last call” routine.

  He didn’t move as I looked at the paperwork in my hand. I saw why.

  “Is this right?” I asked, confused.

  “Yep. After his last checkup, he told me he needed to schedule a follow-up appointment with you in two weeks—and he specifically asked for the final appointment of the day again,” Steve said.

  “Wait a minute. He asked for the final appointment last year, too?” I asked, and Steve responded with one raised eyebrow and a nod. “What’s this about?”

  “I could guess.” Steve flashed his charming smile and winked. “Nervous?”

  “Just don’t go too far away,” I said. Damn right I was nervous.

  “Got it, boss,” Steve said. I love when he calls me that—especially during sex—but that’s another erotic story.

  I took a deep breath and approached the door. I pushed it open and it seemed all my blood was rushing to my dick—and leaving my face ghostly pale.

  God, he looked good. He was in tightly clinging black boxer briefs, and I wondered if he consciously remembered what color he wore at each appointment so as not to repeat any—because if my memory was any indication, even a year later, another person would recall exactly what color he wore at any given time. His hunky, wide back was facing me as he stood on the exam room scale, fiddling with the mechanisms. His large ass muscles strained against the material of his underwear.

  “Hey, Doc,” he said distractedly as I shut the door behind me. “I can’t seem to get a good reading on this thing.”

  I walked over to him with a totally put-on, professional demeanor, and from behind him, I adjusted the sliding weights until a healthy 217 balanced things out. I was so close to him that I just had to inhale the scent of his soap, his shampoo, and the gentle blend of already released perspiration since his shower. It was like sleeping gas. I just wanted to breathe it in, close my eyes, and dream happy thoughts.

  “So, why back so soon? Everything okay?” I asked, still standing behind him. He finally turned and looked at me. He pointed at me accusingly—with an arrow-straight, swollen cock nearly puncturing his tight boxer briefs, making them even tighter in the process. I looked down at it in appreciative awe.

  His face and bald head had turned a heated red. “I think I need you to examine me again. More thoroughly than last time.” He sternly looked me straight in the eyes as he said it, making it clear that he was still a man and was going to try to act as in control of the situation as possible.

  “Okay,” I said, staring into his sky blue eyes. It was an odd sort of standoff, neither of us willing to appear like we wanted this more than the other.

  I grabbed the end of my stethoscope and placed it right over one of his swelling nipples. He shakily sighed. It was like he’d walked into a meat freezer. I could practically see mist spilling from his luscious lips. I just held it there, allowing it to chill his nipple into a nugget. I could actually hear his heartbeat, and it was as dangerously over the speed limit as mine this time.

  I moved to the other side to make the pair of nipples twins again. His powerful legs nearly threatened to give out and he fell slightly backward, clawing for the scale behind him to steady himself.

  He stood there without dropping his gaze. I reached authoritatively for the lube and glove, and you damn well better believe there was a porn-like, ominous wristband snap this time.

  �
�I need you to drop your underwear and get up on the table.”

  He did as told.

  “Okay, now, I need you to lower your face all the way down to the table. Right, just like that. Okay, now stay like that. I’ll be with you in one second.”

  His huge, hairy cheeks split and his oversized genitals filled the space between his thighs, his cockhead dragging the tabletop. I watched him closely as I moved to a nearby intercom unit and pressed a button.

  “Steven?”

  “Yeah. I’m here, boss.” Steve’s voice was electronically transmitted into the room.

  “I’m going to need your assistance in here,” I said, then let go of the button without waiting for a reply.

  Ron didn’t flinch or protest.

  I was too nervous to do this alone, I knew Steve wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t include him (he and I had already played doctor together in this very room after office hours numerous times), and I knew Ron wasn’t looking for a relationship from me. He was definitely just here to have me do a job either his wife never would, or one he was just too much of a man to ask her to do.

  I picked up another disposable glove and when Steve walked in, I tossed it at him. He’s athletic and has good reflexes. He caught it, assessed the situation—and the monster cock dangling between our patient’s legs—and slipped the glove on without question as we approached our specimen of man ass.

  “I’m just going to need you to hold him open while I perform this exam,” I said.

  As Steve gladly gripped both cheeks and yanked them apart, both he and I couldn’t help but notice the long, glistening stream of precum spilling from Ron’s dick. Steve gave me one of his adorable smirks.

  My first instinct at seeing Ron’s purple pucker fully exposed was to dive right in there with my tongue. But that just wouldn’t be good for my practice—yet. So I lubed up my finger like a professional, then used the gloved tip to tickle around the perimeter of his asshole. He didn’t hold back his moaning as his pucker sucked in like a Hoover. I kept circling, gradually putting more pressure against the flesh and spinning in toward his still-tight slit. He slowly began to devour my whole finger while I kept up the circular rotation, stretching the walls of his rectum. I could see his entire beefy body responding. His butt cheeks did a little wiggling dance, which caused his fuck hole to squeeze my finger.

  “I think I might need a second opinion,” I said to Steve. “Tell me if this feels okay to you.”

  I took my side of Ron’s ass with my free hand, holding his cheek in place while Steve took his now free hand and slowly slid his gloved index finger into Ron, snuggling up against my still inserted finger.

  “Oh, geeeeeez!” Ron wheezed, somehow still producing and spilling precum all over. He was most likely going to be leaving the office commando, considering the mess he was making of the boxer briefs stretched from knee to knee.

  I locked eyes with Steve and we gave each other the visual go ahead to begin working Ron’s asshole. I pulled out first, all the way, and Ron’s purple pucker morphed around Steve’s gloved finger, his ass hairs and Steve’s glove both glistening with lube. Then Steve slowly exited, and just as Ron’s anus tried to close back up, I stopped that quick, weaseling my way back in. We gradually picked up the pace, one finger replacing another in an alternating pattern. Ron’s powerful arms were clutching the sides of the table and his rustic face was sideways, one cheek pressed firmly against the top of the exam table. His eyes were practically rolling to the back of his head and he was breathing so heavily that spit was bubbling between his lips. I could hear a low, consistent hum escaping from his larynx.

  I reached out with my free hand to undo Steve’s pants to release his bulge and he did the same for me. Neither of us stopped plunging our fingers up Ron’s hairy hole, though. Once we were both free of our confines, I snatched up the tube of lubricant and squeezed a line across the top of Steve’s cock, following his vein for guidance, then did the same to my own cock. I also squeezed a glob between our fingers as they worked Ron’s pucker. This was all about multitasking. I moved closer to Steve and painted both of our cocks with the previously applied lube, wrapped my hand around them at the same time so they were trapped together within my fist, and began stroking slowly. Steve’s entire upper body relaxed at the sensation.

  I looked to Ron’s hairy moon to show Steve that it was time to up the ante. On my next journey into Ron’s fuck tunnel, my middle finger joined my index finger. Ron cried out—bordering on a squeal—as the two fingers went back in, followed by Steve’s two fingers. We showed no mercy. We scooped our way around his rectum with our fingers, yanking his sphincter in all directions.

  It was out of body for me. I was seeing me and my assistant from across the room, our pants down, our cocks together, and our fingers jammed up my gorgeous patient’s ass. This was so wrong, but there was no room for rationality right now. This was all about selfish satisfaction. All that mattered in this world was feeling good. There were no consequences in this existence.

  And Ron would completely agree with me. We’d taken him to new levels of ecstasy. He was whimpering like a puppy—I couldn’t see his face at the moment, but I had no doubt that euphoric tears were filling his eyes—and I could just tell that his body had turned to mush as he gave up completely to the sensation.

  Steve blew first. His manhood throbbed between my palm and cock and then his hot cum splattered into my pubic hairs and onto my shaft. His thick globs of white smeared across my dick as I continued to stroke both of us.

  As much as I wanted this feeling to go on forever, I wanted the release more. I continued to work my cock as Steve’s dropped out of the picture—and out of my palm. I curled the two fingers I had in Ron’s ass downward and savagely poked away at his prostate. Steve joined me.

  The response was immediate and violent. Ron’s entire body clenched, his powerhouse stomach muscles tightening and pulling him into a fetal position. It felt from my point of view like he was about to snap our fingers off with his sphincter. His near-soprano shriek practically blew out my eardrum. I was helpless to assist steadying him because my load was set into motion. All I could do was watch as it sprayed all over the exam room floor.

  Steve was forced to jump to Ron’s aid, cradling him in strong arms (one of which was still reaching back to Ron’s ass, where Steve’s fingers were still stuck) so he wouldn’t fall off the table. Ron’s body fell heavily onto Steve’s torso, but Steve was more than able to hold him in place. Cum shot from Ron’s huge erection with no rhyme or reason, disappearing from sight as it hit every object imaginable in the vicinity.

  As his convulsing slowed, we felt his sphincter loosen its hold a bit so our fingers made a quick escape, which resulted in another little shock to Ron’s system. Steve helped him roll onto his back. His face was flush and his bald head gleamed with sweat. His eyes were closed as he focused on regaining his breath, strength, and equilibrium.

  “Relax, big fella,” Steve said, rubbing Ron’s shoulder. He has a great voice for soothing nervous patients. It’s so calming…and fucking sexy.

  Now that I’d ejaculated, logic came flooding back, and I had to step away from the scenario. I cleaned myself off with a disposable towel, tossed the glove, and dressed my bottom half quickly. Then I turned to Steve, who just stood patiently beside our patient, and said, “Can you handle it from here?”

  Steve nodded, I thanked him, and once again, I allowed a run-in with Ron to banish me to my office. I just didn’t know how to interact with the man after something like that. What to do, what to say.

  And I have no idea what Steve said to him either, but before leaving the office, Ron scheduled an appointment for a month from now—the final appointment of the day.

  So yeah, maybe I do work with a bunch of assholes all day…but once in a while, the only way to deal with an asshole is to be a real jerk-off.

  Cherry Pops

  I hadn’t been single in years, and didn’t want to be, but my friends kep
t insisting that I enjoy it while it lasted. They were under the impression that someone who had been so unattainable for as long as I had basically regained his “fresh meat” status when getting back into the scene and would surely be snatched up before long. Personally, I felt more like rotten meat—older, jaded, and no longer the most choice cut of beef.

  To prove to me that I still had it (or re-had it?), they insisted on playing dress-up with me…and before you know it, we’re in a leather bar and I’m in jeans, a leather vest, and a dog collar, hoping someone would throw this old dog a bone and teach him some new tricks.

  I’m hanging out at the bar, talking to one of my buddies, and this huge arm comes down, banging an empty beer bottle onto the counter. My vision is impaired by a wall of muscle, bear fuzz, and tattoo. My eyes are practically poked out by these two raging hard nipples perfectly framed by a chain link harness.

  My perspective shifts—actually, it crawls its way up the rope ladder of chest hair—to the towering figure in front of me while I feel a bunch of my own chest hair being tugged just hard enough to be uncomfortable, but not hard enough for me to burst out with “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  The man looking down at me through attention-demanding eyes says, “Who knew under all those goody-goody clothes there was this nice mat of fur?”

  “Oh…hi.” I smile back at the disarming raised lip that’s both sweet and severe: a smile I look forward to whenever I need some contracting work done around the house. “I didn’t picture this as your kind of scene.”

  I so did. Constantly. My handyman reeked of testosterone every time he came over. It smelled doubly delicious on hot summer days when not even the air conditioning could prevent his strenuous work tasks from leaving his tattered T-shirt with large wet pit stains and treasure trail streaks down the midriff.