The Good Doctor
This is a work of fiction. I love getting email so if you would like to contact me you can at firstname.lastname@example.org or if you’d like to see some other things that I’ve written you can go to my web site at http://www.mygaystories.com .
From the previous chapter:
“Ernie’s sister wants to see me without my clothes too?”
He yawned leaned into me and nodded yes.
“She’s seven, right?” Another nod. “An older woman.”
He kissed me, a spontaneous, no particular reason for it, little boy, sleepy kiss. “She likes me.” Another yawn.
I whispered. “Go to sleep now, Jase."
The Good Doctor 58
I stood up really straight and tried to look like a model. “So how do I look?”
Pete straightened his sportcoat, grinned and then bent his head and kissed me. “Great! Okay, maybe a bit like mortal sin but who doesn’t like that?”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “Jase really likes black.”
“I didn’t mean the color.”
“What… I look evil?”
“Nope, no way…but if I wanted to tempt a holy man, I’d use you.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Cool!” We were going out to dinner, surprisingly, a rare thing.
Pete ran a brush thru his hair and talked to me in the mirror. “I figured, no Italian, cause, well, it really wouldn’t be fair to anyone, so I made reservations at The Fatted Calf,” he grinned, “cholesterol city.”
I smiled back at him. “We splitting a cow?” One of my favorite things.
“Something like that.” Then he put down his brush and rested his hand lightly on the side of my neck and stroked my jaw line with his thumb. Lowering his mouth to the other side he lapped slowly at the skin just below my ear until my cock felt like it was gonna explode and I pushed him away with a groan. “You keep that up and I’m gonna cum!”
He pulled me back and nuzzled the side of my head. “I like keeping you on the simmer.”
“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to walk ahead of me to the car.” No lie there, the world’s full of buzz killers and mom’s the queen of all of em and we gotta get by her to get to the car.
My mother was lying in wait like a hungry panther at the door to the kitchen, a path we have to take. Behind her Jase, David and Sam were cramming mom’s sausage and mushroom lasagna into their mouths as only teenagers can while mom glowed as only an Italian mother who’s force feeding her brood can.
She inhaled deeply and waved a dish cloth at us. “Ohhh! You boys look wonderful! Soooo handsome!” Pete does clean up well. Actually you don’t ever have to even clean him up. Going out to dinner means taking stuff off of him, like a tie.
“Eric!” Mom’s fingers were straightening my collar. “Honey, I didn’t even know that you knew how to dress like this!”
Jase choked down a mouthful of lasagna and yelled, “It was me, Grandma, I did it!”
I bent and kissed the top of his head. “My little fashion consultant!”
Sam was staring at me with a forkful of lasagna frozen halfway to his mouth. I said, “You guys okay?”
David looked at Sam and shook his head. “We’re good, Dad. Just gonna play Monopoly with Jase and Sam.” David is growing up faster than bamboo and his voice is going deep.
Pete grinned at the boys and then pulled me by the arm. My mother patted my chest with the palm of her hand and said, “Have a good time…and try to stay outta trouble.”
“Mom, we’ll be….”
“I mean you, Eric! Pete never gets in trouble! Please…just try!” Oh for God’s sake!
“Mom! I don’t….”
“Please, Eric!” She brought her hands to the sides of her head. “That whole thing at the clinic is still fresh in my mind! You’re gonna drive me crazy!”
“Mom! I didn’t….” But I never got a chance to finish because Pete dragged me outta there with mom waving her dish clothe at us like we were about to sail across the Atlantic instead of drive three miles to the restaurant.
“She’s gonna drive me…..”
“Just get in the car, Eric!”
“How come she always….?”
“Just calm down, Eric!”
“Why is it that….?”
Pete shoved me into the car, slammed the door and went around and got into the driver’s seat. I was trying to talk but he held up his hand.
“It’s over, Eric. Just concentrate on the nice meal we’re going to have.”
The Fatted Calf is a restaurant decorated and designed for carnivores. Even the stuff hanging on the walls has a murderous theme, with shotguns, swords, huge ass knives, and every conceivable tool of war from the middle ages is represented. The food is wonderful. The steaks are seared dark on the outside and are juicy and rare on the inside and the baked potatoes are fluffy wonders dripping with butter and sour cream. And even before all that they bring platters of vegetables with cheese spreads and three different kinds of dips and a huge basket full of fresh baked bread.
The waiter had just poured our water and taken our drink order when out of the corner of my eye I saw an archaic vision struggling towards us on the arm of an octeginarian gentleman…Rose and her current playmate.
The woman had the nerve to have squeezed herself into a black sheath and was obviously wearing a pushup bra which, all things considered, was a Herculean effort on the part of everyone involved. Her lips were a slutty carmine and her finger nails the color of blood.
She swooped down on my boyfriend and screamed, “My darling, Pete! The handsomest doctor on the entire eastern seaboard!” She left the cartoon imprint of her lips on his cheek with a loud smack. “Ohhhh and you’re out feeding your pet monkey!”
Pete and I were struggling to our feet in an unappreciated attempt to be polite. I stuck out my hand to the elderly gentleman and said, “I’m Eric Cortland and thank God she’s finally gotten a nurse! Her friends have gotten so tired of carrying extra Depends.”
“Eric! I don’t wear Depends!”
I grinned, touched a finger to her arm and said sadly, “And how many public places can attest to that.”
She was bracing herself to lunge for me, “Why you little….,” when Pete stepped between us with his hands up.
“Will you two behave! My God! People are gonna think that you’re enemies!”
Rose looked genuinely shocked. “Enemies? Why the hell would anybody think that?” And she glared at the young couple seated at the next table who were obviously thinking exactly that. “This little screwball is my best friend! Well, that’s probably stretching it but anyway we get along reasonably well as long as he’s medicated.”
Like an idiot I was actually concerned about how the older gentleman felt even though it was pretty clear his mind was wandering when I turned to him. “Rose and I are actually pretty good friends. It’s just that with the smell of all this food she begins to go a little ah….feral. Don’t let those false teeth of hers get anywhere near the back of your neck.”
Rose pushed herself forward. “Eric, I’ll have you know that these teeth are all mine!”
I sneered. “I guess they finally decided to take a chance on your Mastercard then!”
“You little son-of-a……..” Blood red finger nails came screeching towards my face like surface to air missiles and I dodged behind Pete. He brought his arm back and with his huge hand clamped on the back of my neck pulled me back out next to him.
Pete roared, “Will you two quit! You’re driving everyone crazy!” Well there was kind of a line up of waiters on the other side of the room watching us.
Rose stood up straight, touched a finger to her hair and tried straightening her dress which involved pulling the sheath back down over her bulging middle. She turned to the older gentleman and said, “C’mon Sweetheart! We can have a drink at my place!”
As she started to walk away I said, “Geez, you gotta wonder how many lonely sailors have heard that line.”
She turned and glared at Pete. “If you’re gonna take him out he should be kept on his leash!”
Pete stared at me. “You promised your mother that you’d behave.”
I sat back down. “She started it with that monkey line.”
“Eric, you don’t have to rise to the bait. Rose is a nice woman, you just have to cut her a little slack.”
I sat back down popped an olive in my mouth and took a sip of wine. “It’s okay, Pete. That’s really just a normal conversation for Rose and me.”
“You weren’t uncomfortable?”
I shrugged. “Nope.”
The relieved looking waiter brought our salads and we both took a bite. Without looking I could feel Pete lift his eyes and stare at me. “You like that she gives you a hard time.” It was a statement and I kept eating even though I could feel his eyes on me. “You like that she doesn’t react……to the way you look. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” WHY, WHY, WHY, do we have to talk about this?
I mumbled, “Yeah it’s okay.” Maybe he’ll just drop it.
“That’s it, right?” Why do I never win these battles?
I inwardly sighed and then lifted my eyes and looked for a split second into his. “Yes.”
“But, Eric, why?” Oh, God! Why do people feel the need to talk about shit?
“Pete, can we just not talk about it?”
“Okay…okay.” I put my fork down and finished my Martini. “Did you see Sam when we were leaving the house? He was like frozen. I talked to him but he wasn’t even able to speak. Pete, I like Sam. He’s a good kid. I hate it that I have that affect on him…or on anyone. I don’t want to be that guy…that guy that does that. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be ugly or deformed or any of that shit but I also don’t want to do that to people, especially not to people I like. I mean it’s just fucking genes! I didn’t do anything! You know what that was like in high school? There were guys that hated me. Guys who had never even spoken to me but they hated me.” I sighed. “And Jase is gonna go thru that, gonna have to deal with that. It sucks!”
“Eric…” I held up my hand and he stopped.
“Everybody says that people who look good get treated better…and there was some of that. You know that as well as I do. There were some teachers who let me get away with stuff cause of the way I looked. And sometimes when I go shopping people will do things for me, sometimes pretty strange things. And there were girls that wanted to date me because of it. But I’m not a model or an actor or anything like that. I sell industrial supplies; I don’t need to be handsome to do that. I could look like Quasimodo, it wouldn’t matter. So unless someone gets off on making other people uncomfortable, I just don’t see the point.”
I held up my hands in surrender and laughed. “That’s the last that you’ll ever hear from me on that subject.”
Now he feels bad for me, I can see it in his eyes. That’s the problem with spilling your guts, people either hate you for it or feel sorry for you.
I grin at him. “Quit feeling sorry for me, those guys hated me cause I was having sex with their girl friends. I was into that at the time.” It really doesn’t pay to tell the truth.
Forty-five minutes later we’re staring at empty plates and Pete is shaking his head slowly. He says, “Honest to God, I don’t know where you put it.”
“Eric, you just ate something like ten percent of your body weight in red meat. Even if I wasn’t a doctor I’d have to be figuring that wasn’t all that great.”
“It was good! Besides red meat is good for you. All that iron.”
“Well that had to be the Mesabi Range of meals. Don’t you feel...I dunno, packed?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got the metabolism of a gerbil. I’ll be hungry again in an hour.”
He groaned. “I dunno how you can even say those words! Every time I come here I tell myself it’s never gonna happen again. I can’t begin to imagine what it’s doing to my cholesterol.”
“My cholesterol is only 143, a little on the low side if you ask me.” I wiggle in my chair at the thought I just had and lean forward. “Know what’d be a perfect end to the evening?”
He gasps out, “What? Coronary bypasses to go?”
I shake my head, lean forward and whisper, “Nope, I was thinking of red meat in another form. I’m horny!”
“Oh for God’s sake! You gotta be kidding!”
“Hey, I don’t mean this exact moment but like in an hour or so, after the kids are in bed.”
He takes a deep breath. “How were you hoping to accomplish that, bring an oxygen tank into our bedroom?” That’s a rhetorical remark and we both know it. He can’t go without sex any longer than I can.
I grin and move my leg so that my ankle is rubbing against his. “I’ll probably try to seduce you.”
His leg jerks a little but then presses closer to mine, a faint smile grows across his sturdy jaw. He’s so handsome and kind and there are times when that just hits me like the proverbial ton of bricks. His dark blond hair is always hanging over his forehead, his brilliant blue eyes always so kind, they’re forgiving eyes, eyes that understand.
When we get home it’s still fairly early and we get into comfortable clothes and lounge on the sofa watching TV. Around eight-thirty we coax Jase into pajamas which we end up putting on him while he keeps his eyes plastered to the television. After a few minutes he dissappears for a few seconds and then returns dragging one of his blankets which joins him as he sprawls in front of the TV. Ten minutes after that a sleeping Jase wrapped in his blanket is carried to bed, a perfect angel.
We go back into the living room and lay on the sofa, I’m in front of Pete and my butt is pulled back against his crotch while his left arm is wrapped around my chest and things are definitely stirring.
For the last few minutes Pete has been lightly closing his mouth over the skin on the back of my neck, almost but not quite, biting me and it’s making me insanely hot. His left hand has wandered up under my sweatshirt and is rubbing my chest. It feels like it’s about a thousand degrees and it’s got me more than ready.
I roll off of the sofa and pull him with me. With him behind me and his arms tight around me we hobble to the bedroom.
It doesn’t take much to get Pete hot but I’ve learned that there’s one thing he especially likes. He’s stripped in about ten seconds and is laying diagonally across our bed his massive rock hard dick pointing at his chin. I take off my shoes and socks and then with him watching me I pull off my shirt more slowly. I didn’t wear underwear and I’m naked now except for my pants and as I loosen my belt and pull it out of the loops my pants drift down so that they’re barely clinging to my hips and there’s a lot of butt showing and I know I’ve got his attention. I pad barefoot over to the bed and I can hear him groan deep in his throat.
I ask him, “Want me to take off the pants?”
He shakes his head and says softly, “Lemme do it.”
His hands are really big and on my waist they feel huge and very warm. They move slowly over my skin, carressing lightly, my stomach, chest and finally my back. Pete sits up and then gets his legs under him so that he’s kneeling in front of me while his hands move over my back always working their way down towards my butt. With his right arm he pulls me tightly to him as he covers my mouth with his and his left hand has slid under the waist band of my pants his fingers teasing the muscles parting them and then slowly, carefully entering me. I hang onto him letting him do the work because that’s what he wants and it couldn’t be better with me.
Minutes later with pants tossed aside my arms are tight around his neck while his face is pressed to the side of mine his teeth working lightly on my shoulder as his cock batters my prostate. The perfect end to the day.
Jase has got a bike with twelve inch wheels. The problem is that most of his friends have been getting twenty inch bikes but he’s smaller than they are. That doesn’t however change the fact that he wants the same things that they have. It’s something that’s gonna be a problem for a long time.
So that morning when he came over to where I was sitting at the kitchen table with his right hand down the back of his bright red briefs I knew that he hadn’t given up on his crusade.
Little boys are oblivious to adult conventions and if their butt itches they scratch it.
“Can we look at those bikes today?”
His hand is working furiously in the back of his briefs. I look over his head and down his back. “You strike gold back there?” David looks up and smiles, he’s well past this stage but not unsympathetic.
Jase groans, he hates it when my concentration wanders. “Dad…my bike!” He pulls his hand out of his briefs.
I ask him, “What are ya gonna do with that hand?”
He gives me a quirky look and a little boy smirk. “Wanna lick it?”
Bathroom humor, it never entirely leaves men. “We can talk once you go wash your hands.”
He gives me a hyper-frustrated look but runs to his bathroom and is back way sooner than it should have taken.
I ask him, “Did you wash your hands?” Pete turns from the stove and smiles. I don’t try to hide my skepticism. “You’re back awful quick.”
He gives it a try. “I washed em!”
I give him a dirty look and he looks like he’s about to argue but then decides, even before he speaks, that it’s just easier to go do it and he takes off again at warp speed.
This time he’s gone a reasonable amount of time but he doesn’t come back to me. Walking into the kitchen again he glances at me and says emphatically, “I did it!” He doesn’t return to me but decides, instead, to look for allies. He goes to Pete.
Pete’s eyes don’t leave the stove but his right hand drops down and pulls Jase’s head to his thigh.
“When you were a little boy did you have a bike, Pete?”
“I want a bike like everybody else’s got.”
Pete glances quickly at me. “You’re a little bit shorter than some of the other guys, Jase.” He hates to leave it at that. “I mean there’s a chance that you’ll grow but for now…”
Jase decides not to waste any more time on a non-believer and walks over and leans against David like he’s a wall. “I wouldn’t fall.”
David says, “He does have great balance.” He pokes Jase in the back with his index finger and giggles. “He’s pretty much a monkey!”
Pete sits down at the table and says, “It’s possible that your legs just aren’t long enough for a twenty inch bike. If your feet don’t actually touch the pedals there’s not much point in getting a bigger one.”
Jase comes over to me and climbs slowly up onto my lap avoiding my balls for a change and somehow perching there without hurting me. He stares into my eyes…and I know what he’s up to.
He puts a hand on either side of my face and continues to look deep into my eyes. His eyes are flashing and are full of the devil. He gives me a quirky smile and says to me what I have so often said to him, “How come you can’t behave?” Then he grins widely. It’s a blatant attempt to manipulate me with his cuteness and it shows tremendous self-awareness and an understanding of the power he has. Mentally I shake my head because I know that by the time this boy is seventeen he’s going to have inseminated every girl in this town.
I grin back at him. “You do know that that’s not going to work on me don’t you?”
He sighs and slumps back onto my lap, he’s become a little boy again, complete with whine. “I’m gonna ask Grandma!” The court of last resort.
Finally everyone puts their dishes in the general direction of the dishwasher and we fan out to our respective bedrooms to dress. By the time everyone is finished with that my mother is already in the kitchen shaking her head over the mess.
I walk in and lean against the counter. She stares at me and says, “Do you have food fights like they did in that terrible movie?” Mom is thinking of Animal House even though she’s never seen it and I don’t even remember it having what she thinks it did. Somehow the word has filtered down that there were food fights in it and it’s as close to a dirty movie as mom can come up with. Any movie that sanctions a mess is definitely on her list.
She shakes a finger at me. “Just because it was in one of your picture shows doesn’t mean you gotta do it.” Actually I don’t think that I was even born when that movie came out but to mom it personifies my lifestyle.
I really want to tip her that Jase is gonna try and corner her. “Mom, Jase is after a new bike and we been trying to tell him that it’s too big for him but he’s probably gonna hit you for it.”
Her hands are in the sink rinsing dishes. She nods. “I know. Get those dishes off of the table, Eric and bring em here.”
“You know?” You mean this was on Oprah?
She glances at me quickly. “Of course! Do I live on the moon? Of course I know.”
“The garbage, Eric, take it out.”
“Do it now, Eric!” She’s shaking her dish cloth at me. “Honey, they’re gonna be here to pick up any second!” Oh fer cryin out loud!
When I get back from hauling out the garbage my mom is seated at the kitchen table and Jase is standing next to her staring up earnestly into her eyes while he pleads his case with soulful little boy sincerity.
Jase lays out his case in great detail and with lots of doleful looks designed to wrench a grandmother’s heart clean out of her body. He explains carefully how his twelve inch bike is basically a baby’s bike and that it’s humiliating for him to be seen riding it when all of his friends have twenty inch bikes. He explains that his father, that’s me, however well meaning, basically hasn’t got a clue what the life of a small boys is like.
My mom reaches out and takes Jase’s hands in hers. “The thing is, Sweetheart, that Grandma has a friend who makes bicycles.”
Jase says softly in wonderment, “You do?”
She nods yes. “Harold makes bicycles for the men who go over to France to ride in that big race that they have over there and he makes them for grownups to use in this country too.” She reaches for her purse but keeps talking. “I asked him if he had any bicycles for boys but he said that he didn’t.” She pauses and Jase swallows hard. “But he did have one bicycle…now let me see.” She rummages through her purse like she can barely remember where she put something. “Oh, here.” She looks at a small piece of paper. “It’s a BMX something? Does that sound right?” Jase nods furiously. “It’s a grownup bicycle but he thought you might fit it.” She shook her head in confusion. “They have sizes?” She looks at me. “Did they always have sizes?” Pete and David have wandered into the kitchen and the whole room nods yes. “Oh,” she glances again at the paper, “and it’s made out of aluminum and titanium….something.”
Jase may be shrewd and getting shrewder by the second but some adult nuances go by him and he’s actually buying that his grandmother is a scatterbrained old lady who knows nothing about bikes.
She stares down at Jase. “Is that something you’d want? It’s not a bicycle for a boy, it’s a bicycle for a man and it isn’t a twenty inch but only a sixteen inch but that’s bigger than what you got.”
He’s almost vibrating. “Can we get it, Grandma? Can we?”
She says brightly, “Oh it’s in my van. I thought you’d want to see it.”
Before she’s completed the sentence Jase and David are hitting the door to the garage.
I stare at her for a moment and then say, “What’s with the whole, “Do they really have sizes shtick? You know they have sizes.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s a sixteen inch bike and he’s gonna accept that cause it’s a grownup bike. I use to use the same line on you…and you bought it too.” She takes a sip of coffee and looks at me up and down. “Are you actually gonna wear those clothes today?”