Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2012 10:50:16 +0000
From: Edmond Giles <edmond.giles@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tony and Friends 5

   New starts were happening at the hospital that week. It was the
beginning of August. I'd been told that there would be staff changes as the
junior doctors all moved around to their new placements. I'd been told that
it would be a real pain until they had settled down to their new
responsibilities, and that I might need a lot of patience in my work for
A&E in particular. Of course, the physician and surgeon consultants
wouldn't be changing. The other change would be a new triage charge nurse,
whose job it would be to assess each incoming patient and ensure they were
dealt with in priority order. So, at least three new faces to met and the
same number of personalities to get to know.

   The junior doctors on the team when I started work were both
female. Good fun, very bright and with sharp wits. The incoming medics were
one of each, a man and a woman. The guy had big specs and a pointed face
with a big nose. If I had to describe him in animal terms, I think he was a
whippet. Whereas the lady doctor was more of a Pekinese -- short chubby and
somehow fluffy. I'd only been in the hospital a few months, but they seemed
grateful for all the help and advice I could give them.

   The new triage nurse was a hunk. Black hair. Middle height. Infectious
grin. Powerful pheromones. The student nurses were in uproar, all of them
flirting and batting eyelids when things were slack. The way my work for
the health service worked was this. I had a beep, on which they would
contact me if I was needed in a hurry. During office hours, I had to speak
with someone in central admin who had a starchy voice. They would tell me
where to report and give me an outline of the patient in question. Out of
hours, when I called in on the phone to A&E, the triage nurse was one I had
to contact. Ed Grey and I would be hearing one another's voices a lot and
it was worth my while to be friendly with him.

   The number of hours I spent on hospital work each week varied. I was
paid for 15 hours, but it varied from twelve to twenty. The most
interesting challenges were the projects planned in advance. Intensive work
done in the operating theatre for a surgical technique, for instance. These
pictures would be used in the hospital's teaching wing. Then there were the
plastic surgery cases. It was marvellous to be involved in recording the
reconstructive work done after facial cancers had been removed. Some weeks
were all camera work, and sometimes I would spend a lot of time working
with another technician scanning the results of my work onto computer. The
times not spent like that were usually times to catch up on processing
films of routine matters. Sometimes the work I do for the police and for
the hospital would overlap: if an old lady had been mugged the pictures I
took would be used in court when the criminal were apprehended. The really
horrible stuff I occasionally had to do of murder victims at the scene of
the crime would be complemented by autopsy and post mortem pictures.

   A busy life. Working with busy professionals. But they were human beings
too, just like me. Late that August, I had spent four hours in the
operating theatre. I was only needed periodically, when the surgeons stood
back from the table to give me access at critical times, and sometimes to
work almost over their shoulders as they worked. I was hot, sweaty and
hungry. I showered in the changing room, and then called in at the staff
canteen to refuel. Needing the loo, I headed back towards the basement
where my work room was. One of the theatre porters would already have
delivered my kit. I turned into the gents at the bottom of the stairs and
headed for the cubicles.

   There are three cubicles in that bog, facing onto a trough urinal, with
hand-basins in a bay nearer the door. I don't usually stand at a urinal. It
gets unwanted attention when my P.A. is noticed. So I went into a cubicle
and locked the door. I unzipped and pulled out my penis. Eased the foreskin
over my helmet and held it so that the hole round the P.A. was closed and
began to pee. Obviously, I was facing the back of the stall. As I gazed
down at what I was doing, I noticed the flicker of light and shadow on the
floor right at the back of the stall, coming from under the
partition. There was someone next door having a wank.

   I grinned to myself. Lucky them. I wouldn't mind a wank myself. My dick
began to swell a bit, but I thought better of it and just shook off the
drops. A bit of bog paper appeared under the partition. On it were some
words written in biro. Not just an accidentally dropped sheet, then. I
turned my head and squinted. The words read: I like that rig in your
helmet.

   How could he know? Oh shit! There was a hole in the thin partition, just
beside the loo roll holder. I sat down on the bog seat and peeped
through. An eye pulled back from the hole, and the guy stood up. I didn't
glimpse his face, but he was wearing a dark blue jacket, so it must have
been one of the porters. In his cubicle, he turned to face me, his hand
busy with his cock. The hole was at just the right height for me to see his
fingers playing with his cock. I hadn't yet put my own dick away, and it
had reacted to what I was seeing. Without taking my eye from the hole, I
started to feel myself. The bloke next door squatted quickly. Again, I
didn't see his face, but his eye was pressed against the hole. I stood up
and turned to face him, fingering my balls as I did so. My dick jumped. It
was eager for some action, so I played with the ring, pulling my foreskin
right back.

   A hand appeared under the screen, making a wanking motion. I dropped my
trousers and knelt down. The hand groped about a bit, feeling my leg, then
my scrotum before latching onto my prick. The fingers wanked for a moment,
then the thumb rubbed a dollop of precum around the ridge of my helmet. I
shuddered. This was good, but not in a very safe place. The hand was
slender, with dark blond hair straying onto it out of the shirt-sleeve. The
hand did not belong to someone old, and I didn't think it was young enough
to be one of the school leavers they'd just taken on. A nice hand, and I
fantasised about the rest of the man who was pleasuring me in this way. I
moved a bit. I wanted to be able to return the favour.

   My hand went under the partition and a warm, moist circumcised dick was
pressed into my palm. I started to toss him, hoping to get it done before
we were caught. I crouched right down and looked under the partition,
hoping to see a bit more of my anonymous lover of the moment. It was then
that I noticed that the third cubicle was also in use. Shiny black shoes
and black trouser bottoms: it was one of the medical staff. I was about to
get on my feet and leave in a hurry, when I noticed the same pattern of
light and shadow that had first attracted my attention to the cubicle on my
other side. The medic was also giving his knob a polishing. Reassured, I
continued to wank the porter.

   I looked back towards the other cubicle. The shoes had gone, but I
hadn't heard the flush or the door being unlatched. I looked up. Grinning
at me over the top of the partition was Ed Grey. Suddenly, his eyes
widened, and he grimaced and disappeared. Someone had come in and was
standing at the urinals. We all resumed out seats. I made some unnecessary
rustling with a sheet of bog paper, rearranged my clothing and flushed the
loo. Outside I washed my hands. As I dried them on the paper towels, the
other two flushes sounded out, and the occupants of the stalls appeared to
wash their hands. We looked at each other and smiled. It was worth hoping
that I'd be able to finish off my transaction with Ed and with the
porter. Both of them were good looking and fit. There was more activity as
others came into the bog, so I left, trailing my hand across the front of
Ed's trousers and getting the impression of a good-sized cock.

   Out in the corridor, the porter excused himself, saying that he's got to
get back to work. Ed continued to grin. He was waiting to see if had any
suggestions. I had. For the benefit of anyone listening, I said, "Do you
want to come and pick up that batch of files, then?"

   He nodded , and so we walked companionably to my workroom. I knew that
we were not going to get it on in my workplace, but we could arrange to
meet after work.

   With the door closed behind us, Ed said, "Um. Tony, I don't think this
is a good idea, mate."

   So, he was having second thoughts. Oh well.

   "It's not that I don't fancy you. It's just that we got a bit carried
away there."

   No point in making difficulties, I thought. "Nah. You're all right. It's
not safe at work. Perhaps later."

   Ed seemed relieved.

   "It really isn't that I don't fancy you. I do. But . . ."

   "But what?"

   "I promised never to go with anyone unless my other half was with
me. And he's not."

   Just my luck. The luscious Ed was in a steady relationship.

   "Who is he then? Anyone I might know?"

   "You might. But I mustn't talk about him."

   That suggested it was probably one of those doctor-nurse relationships
to me. Never mind.

   "Well, Ed. Perhaps we could all meet up for a drink sometime. Get it on
if he approves?"

   "Yeah. Maybe."

   Shit. That left me with a hard-on and no one to share it with.

   I had very little left to do, and thought I'd call it a day. I walked
from the hospital on the outskirts of town towards the centre. I had barely
gone 200 yards when a car tooted its horn. I looked across to see the
porter from the bog beckoning me over.

   "Do you want a lift into town?"

   He leaned across to open the door, pushing all sorts of crap off the
passenger seat to make room for me. His name is Fred; that was on the label
on his work tunic. I could now see that he had a wedding ring on. And some
of the stuff in the car made it seem obvious that it didn't signify a civil
partnership. There was a child seat strapped in the back.

   "Not getting enough at home? Is that why you were in the bog?"

   "Nah. I get plenty," he said. It's just that she doesn't have a prick
and I like to go both ways."

   "Does she know?"

   "No. That's why I go cottaging. I've got nowhere to take anyone, and
don't want to get into anything permanent."

   "Do you go cottaging often? It's a rarity for me these days."

   "Well, I suppose I do. Depends how lucky I get. I usually drop into the
bogs under the railway arches." He was referring to what I knew was a
fairly notorious haunt for those who were into anonymous sex. "In fact, I
was thinking of going there now. Wanna come with me?"

   "I don't think so. I've never fancied hunting in pairs. But I'll see you
around. Maybe one day at work," and I winked. Letting him know I was still
interested in him, but not in semi-public sex. The car passed under the
railway arches, and pulled into the supermarket carpark.

   "I'd better drop you here, then. Is that OK."

   Convenient for him, and not a problem for me. Fred patted my knee, and I
squeezed his hand before leaving his car. I picked up a few things in the
shop and continued the walk home. As I fumbled in my pocket for my keys,
Duncan came out of his shop.

   "Did you get on all right with the lads then?"

   "Yeah. Nice kids. Good tatts, too. I still got to do some work on the
prints, but I'll let you have them soon."

   "Anything for Pavel?" asked Dunc, raising an eyebrow.

   "Maybe," I said non-committally. After all, I still needed to get Andy
back to finish taking that sequence of pictures. "I'll let you know." In
fact, I knew already that Andy was going to come round about eight o'clock
that Friday evening.

   I couldn't change anything in the playroom, because it needed to look as
though the pictures I took tonight were part of the same sequence as the
ones I had previously taken. To get myself in the mood, I went down and
opened the door of the toy cupboard. I looked at the contents and imagined
using some of them with Andy. Fat chance.

   The doorbell rang. I went across to answer it. There was Andy . . . and
Brian. "I was only expecting Andy," I said. Though I was pleased to see
Brian's cheeky grin as well.

   "I told Andy about the pictures you took of me," said Brian looking me
straight in the eye, and not mentioning our interaction. "I asked if I
could come and watch you working on his pictures. That'll be all right,
won't it."

   "Come on then," and I led the way back across the courtyard. Downstairs,
I got Andy to drop all his clothes on the chair again. He was already half
hard, and it only took a couple of shakes of his wrist before he was as
stiff as a board. I asked whether he had managed to pull with
Jenny. Apparently not. The curse, and she didn't fancy any activity unless
she was going to get off. Andy didn't want to fuck her at that time of the
month, so they had rowed and he'd gone home.

   "All I got then was a wank while I thought about her," he said. He was
continuing to pull on his dick. Meanwhile, I had been taking frame after
frame. Some of them I took with the abstract tattoo in the picture and some
without. He sat down on the floor and spread his legs. A couple of nice
shots of the parting of his buttock cheeks and just a hint of arsehole.

   "Kneel up and look at me over your shoulder," I suggested. "Now push
your dick down so I can see it between your legs. Arch your back and show
me your fanny. That's it." Andy was really compliant. Brian was over by the
cupboard, keeping out of the way.

   I suggested that he run a finger over his arsehole, teasing it. He did
as I asked and it clenched and unclenched. "Great, do it again." He went
one better, licking a finger and sticking it right in.

   "Here, Andy. Never mind putting your finger up there. Look what Tony's
got in this cupboard. Try this." Brian chucked a vibrator at his
friend. "Hope you don't mind. You might lose it up his chuff."

   "Cheeky git," responded Andy, to which Brian simply said, "Get it up
you. You know you want to."

   Andy did as he was told, turning the base to get the motor going. His
eyes closed as he began to ease the 8" plastic knob in and out of his open
hole. I wondered whether I should get Brian to strip off and join him. With
a bit of luck, I'd be able to persuade Andy to let his buddy fuck him. The
thought of seeing Brian's tattoo-banded dick plunging in and out of that
cute ass would definitely appeal to Pavel's market. Before I could suggest
it, however, Andy was writhing out of control. I managed to get the wet
shots that would finish his sequence, regretful that the encounter was over
so soon.

   While Andy was cleaning himself up, Brian told me that his mate was `a
bit of a flash git with a camera himself'.

   "Yeah, photography is my major interest," said the tall lean young
blond.

   "I wondered," said Brian, "if you would like Andy to take some pictures
of us . . . together like."

   "Would both of you be OK with that?"

   "Sure," Andy agreed easily.

   "It's not as if he doesn't know I'm into guys," said Brian, "after all,
we share a room at college, and sometimes he's come back early from the pub
when I've got someone in the room."

   Andy took the camera and, from the way he handled it, I felt confident
that he had enough experience to cope with it. It was quite a turn on to
see the nude student concentrating on the camera. Brian moved took me in
his arms, and we kissed.

   "Let me see your tongues. Right. Unbutton his shirt, Bri . . . Now take
his nipple between your teeth." After that, Andy was silent, just clicking
away and letting us get on with it. I came close to forgetting that he was
there at one point, only to be reminded of his presence by the touch of his
hand moving my ankles apart to give him a better angle on the action.

   Brian was rimming me at that point, his cute dimples pressed into my
crack as his tongue probed deep into my hole.

   "Never mind the toys," I said, "I want you to fuck me," I pointed to the
condoms and lube. Andy took close-ups of Brian sliding the latex over his
penis, and the anointing of my arse with lube. I was aware that he was
starting to spring a second erection. I wanted him to join in, but also
wanted him to keep on with the camera. Brian stopped fingering me and eased
his helmet into my ring. He wasn't huge, but I stopped him with just the
head inside me, so that Andy would get a good shot of the tattoo on Brian's
cock. Then Brian started to push. I was holding myself upright against the
wall as the cute young guy fucked me. He'd been so shy about showing his
tattoo, but he seemed to have no problems throwing me a fuck in front of
his room-mate.

   Brian's hand reached round, pulling me to face the room . . . and the
camera. His hand rode up over my belly, played with the hair on my chest
and then firmly grabbed me by the tit. I went back to wanking myself for
the benefit of the camera, and then suggested a change of position. I
pushed Brian to the floor and squatted above him, riding his cock, and
getting it as deep as I could. That was better, at this angle, I could feel
him nudging against my prostate, and that had the precum dripping and
splashing from my slit.

   Brian reached out for a finger-full of my dick-dew and raised it to his
lips. He told us that he was about to cum, so I dismounted for a moment,
stripped off his condom and clenched his prick against mine, so that my
P.A. would rub against the rim of his helmet. He started to cum, his hips
jerking upwards and almost unseating me. As he finished, I started my own
ecstasy, the first shot landing on Brian's lips. His tongue snaked out and
licked it away. And the cheeky grin spread across his face. I collapsed
beside him, and ran my hands over his body as we watched Andy put down the
camera.

   Our photographer's cock was dripping well at this point. I beckoned him
over, and he knelt above us. Brian and I lavished attention on it, mouthing
it between us and taking it in turns to suck him. It didn't take Andy
long. He grunted and started to come, his juice spraying out over our
faces. He bent forward and licked us both clean.

   "You were right, Bri," he panted. "It is better when it's not just the
two of us." With that he collapsed onto us and rested.