Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2017 17:15:00 +0000
From: Tiao Wu <hjk7359@hotmail.com>
Subject: Here Cums the Neighborhood: Part 6

This writing contains sexually explicit material, unsuited for readers
under the age of 18. If you are underage, live in an area that disallows
the reading of this type of material, or are offended by homosexual
content, please do not read further.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, settings, and ideas
featured in this series are based on fantasy. Any character that resembles
someone in your reality is purely coincidental.

If you enjoy these stories, please donate to Nifty so that we can continue
reading.

Feel free to email hjk7359@hotmail.com to give feedback or constructive
criticism. Please enjoy.

***************************************************************************

Chapter 6 - Doctored


A lump formed in my throat as Coach Scott squeezed my hand. A heat blasted
from behind my eyes that made me feel like I was in trouble. His hand
greasy with lotion and pruny from the showers slumped away from mine as he
let go, making sure to graze his fingers against the bottom of my wrist,
sending chills down my shoulder blades.

"It's nice to meet you," I said, stoically. He just grinned firmly at me,
hiding behind his sunglasses.

"You, too, sir," he said enthusiastically, resting his arms
akimbo. Chlorinated water vapor began rising from the concrete surrounding
the pool. The air was punctuated by the splashes of kids diving and
cannonballing into the pool, the grown-ups marinating in the shallow
sections, moms laying on pool chairs, slathered with suntan lotion, baking
in the morning heat. "He's the fastest kid I've seen in a while," he
directed toward my dad.

"Well, he used 't practice in the lake back home. We just moved here." Dad
rested his hand on my shoulder, moving his fingers to my neck, rubbing the
muscles between neck and spine.

"Lake, huh?" he sounded excited. "Must be why you move through the pool
water so quickly. Lots of resistance in a big body'a water like that."

Small talk. I was astounded. I looked back and forth between my dad and
Coach Scott. Not but five minutes ago was this man driving his tongue in
and around my asshole, letting me cum on his chin, neck, chest, and now
here he was using that same mouth to chat with me and my dad? I adjusted my
stance slightly, still feeling his saliva between my cheeks. I swallowed
nervously.

"Well, when's practice start?" my dad asked.

"Welp," Coach Scott said slightly tentatively. "It kinda already
has. Teams've already been decided." My heart sank. I knew how much
swimming meant to my dad. "But," he said, rocking on his feet," hope welled
within me. "I honestly haven't seen a kid his age move like he did. He
basically's already tried out, and I'd be happy to have'm." I sighed,
smiling.

"That's great!" my dad said, beaming, squeezing my shoulder.

"Yep, he just needs to get a physical done, and I'll look over it before
next practice. He should be fine, though. I've seen what he's got." Coach
Scott cocked his head slightly. Smirking. My stomach lurched at this. Coach
Scott made me feel incredible. With just his tongue, he made cum spill out
from my cock, even after I'd came twice already today. I stood closer to my
dad. Whether or not it was to fix an injury of mine, I wanted Coach Scott
to do it again, but I didn't want to keep this from my dad.

He told me that he didn't want to keep me from experiencing the things he
missed out on when he was my age. And after hitting the showers with Coach
Scott, I understood what he meant.

"I usually send my swimmers to Dr. Amar. He gets the job done, and is used
to getting kids last minute."

"Sounds good," my dad said, "We'll get that set up right away."

"Next practice is this Saturday morning. Gives ya couple'a days to get that
appointment."

"Perfect. We'll make sure there's a lane for him," Coach beamed at us, and
held out his hand again. My dad took it and shook it firmly. The muscles in
his forearm tightening with Coach Scott's. We turned to walk away and Coach
Scott held out his hand again. I took it and gripped firmly like my dad,
and gave him one shake. We turned toward the exit, and as I walked behind
my dad, Coach Scott swung his arm, and gave me a firm slap on the butt,
grabbing my right butt cheek as he connected.

"Ah!" I winced. My dad turned around, and Coach Scott removed his hand from
me.

"Take care!" said Coach. Dad smiled and rested his arm around my shoulders.

As we got back in the truck, the heat hit us like a fist. "Hoo!" Dad cried
out, twisting the keys to start the engine. I rolled the passenger window
down with the crank, letting in the slightly cooler summer air.

We drove for a while, letting the radio drone on. Johnny Cash mumbled over
the speakers, Dad and I sitting in silence. I held my damp bathing suits on
my lap, a hard on already pressing against my jean shorts.

"Y' have a good swim, Seb?"

"Pretty good," I responded. "Trying to get my wall-time right. I keep
hitting the wall, and not getting my back spin right."

"You'll get it," he replied, resting his hand on my thigh, kneading my legs
a bit. I exhaled, relaxed. I shut my eyes and fell asleep to the rocking of
the truck.

I thought about Coach Scott and his hulking body. His small nipples, his
bulging and round belly, his long arms. His dick that swung between his
legs, the skin that wrapped around its head. I wanted to put my mouth on
it. I wanted to feel him in the back of my throat like I've felt with my
dad. I wanted him to pump his cum into my stomach. I wanted and needed to
taste it.

My dick continued to stir beneath my shorts. I felt the truck come to stop,
and heard Dad flick the gear into PARK. I opened my eyes, to see our
garage, full of wooden furniture and tools.

Dad stepped out of the truck, slamming the door shut, walked inside. I
wiped my groggy eyes and exited the truck as well, carrying my wet suits
inside. Inside, Dad was a machine as usual; lifting laundry to a room,
emptying the dishwasher, wiping down counters, brow furrowed, and far
away. I was used to this form of my dad. All this affection from him lately
was a treat. I walked up behind him as he was scrubbing the stove of all
the bacon greased splatters from this morning, and wrapped my arms around
his waist. He kept scraping the stove, his waist moving in a small circular
motion. I knew I was distracting him.

But I was his son. I loved my dad.

He exhaled, rested his hands on the counter, towel in hand. He twisted
around so that I was resting my head on his stomach.

"So," he mumbled. "You wanna swim with this Coach Scott guy?" The question
caught me off guard. As if I wanted to swim specifically because of Coach
Scott, not my interest in swimming.

"Well," I paused, "Y-yeah?" Dad wrapped his arms around me. His forearms
were sticky beneath my nose from sweat.

"Y'sure?" he asked, a gruffness in his voice.

"Yeah," I said. "Why not?" He gently pulled me away from him. Gave me a
long look in my eyes. I was worried. Did he know about me and Coach Scott
in the showers? I didn't know what was happening! Coach said I had an
injury. He said he would fix it. So I let him. How is that my fault? How
was I supposed to know that he wanted to do...what he might've wanted to
do?

Dad sighed. "S'just that..." he said, looking at the fridge, away from
me. "I've always been yer coach." I looked up at him. He seemed
disappointed.

"Dad?" he looked down at me. His jaw was clenched, his stubble contouring
his jaw perfectly, his eyes piercing into mine. My stomach twisted, and I
pressed myself into him further. "You'll always be my coach." He smirked at
this, which I understood. We rarely said "I love you," or any sappy family
stuff to each other.

"Seb," he pushed me away and squatted down to my level, holding my
shoulders. "This coach," he started, "he really likes you."

"Yeah?" I asked, smiling. "That's good, right, Dad?" He sighed, gave a
small smile, rubbed his eyes. I wanted to tell him everything that
happened. He jammed his tongue into my ass. He chomped on my asshole. He
rammed my tailbone beneath his nose. And I liked it, Dad. I wanted him to
keep going. I begged him not to stop.

"Yer just," he paused, looking at the floor, "yer growin' up." He smiled
almost with some sadness behind his eyes. He pulled me in for a hug, his
chin resting on my shoulder, his arms coiled around me. I hugged him
back. My nose next to his ear. We seemed to stay like this for minutes. My
dick started to stir and stiffen. I felt like a horned-up dog, wanting to
straddle my legs around my dad's waist and start humping away, but I knew
this was a more tender moment. I enjoyed my father's embrace.

He exhaled and let go, glancing down at the bulge in my jean shorts. He let
out a laugh.

"Ha! You go outside and play a while. I'm gonna take care o' some stuff in
here." He brushed his hands on his jeans, stood smiling at me. He
sighed. "This could be really big for you, son." I was confused. My stupid
young brain heard "big" and instantly thought of penises. "This
opportunity, Seb." I nodded. My dad's face seemed to grow more handsome
everyday. His chest hair coiled from his collared shirt, the stubble on his
neck seemed to grow darker. With my mother not around, he didn't feel the
need to shave. His eyes a bright brown. Nostrils flaring with breath. Jaw
strong and clenching, as if chewing something that wasn't there. I leaned
into him, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hmph," he smiled, "go outside. I'll call you in a minute." I nodded, and
walked past him, and through the front door of the house.

I thought about just taking a walk. Maybe to the ditch. Or just to see what
the neighbors looked like. Each house was built differently, and had its
own unique style. One looked inspired by a country cottage, and then you
had one that looked like it was straight from Japan with curved roofs. It
was an interesting looking street. The Grisham's house looked plain, yet
inviting. Only one story, with a small porch with a swing on it. As I
continued walking by their house, I heard their front door swing open.

"Sebastian!" it was Paul's sister, Sarah. She came running out, hair flying
everywhere, taking big clomping steps toward me. Paul followed further
behind, walking with his hands in his pockets.

"Where have you been?!" I realized that since our trip to the farmer's
yard, it had been a whole day without reporting back.

"Yeah! We were worried about you!" Paul chimed in.

"Tell us EVERYthing!" Sarah moved her hands wildly. They had grown up
thinking that any kid who went over there never came back, and here I
was. We walked down the street toward the ditch where the farmer's yard
was, and I told them everything.

"He's huMONgous! I've never seen a guy that big before. It's like he's not
even really human. He's taller than my dad, and your dad, and huge muscles,
and covered in hair."

"Whooaaa," they both said.

"He was really mad that we were there," I explained coolly.

"What did he do to you?" Paul said softly. We approached the ditch, the
pile of dirt that we'd climbed was bright and covered in sun, as opposed to
when we snuck in a day ago. I saw the tiny shack that he lived in. How he
could even fit inside of that little thing baffled me completely.

"He asked me all sorts of questions. He wanted to know why we were
there. And every time I lied..." there was a shudder in my voice, "he
swatted me on the ass." Sarah laughed at this, but Paul gasped.

"Sebastian, we're not supposed to say word like that," Paul said in a loud
whisper.

"So how many times did you get spanked?" Sarah asked, sarcastically. At
this, I peeled the back of my shorts down slightly so they could see the
faded bruise on my right side. They both gasped. "Oh, MAN!" Sarah
yelled. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah, it hurt! Whudder you thinking?" They both laughed. Sarah leaned on
the concrete of the ditch, Paul kicked some rocks, and I climbed to the top
of the ditch to look over the fence. The "NO TRESPASSING" sign, dangling
from barbed wire.

"So..." Paul crept forward. "Is that it? He spanked you and let you go?"

"No," I said.

My life changed after meeting the farmer. He was the first person to make
me cum. He was the first person to get my body to have that intense
feeling. He scared the cum out of me. I slid my hands down the back of my
shorts, and felt my sweaty ass crack. My finger circled around my damp
hole. My eyes fluttered a bit. "He warned me," I said, my cock getting
harder. "He said, "keep yer feet, yer eyes, and yer..." I thought before
finishing. If "ass" was a bad word for Paul to hear, then cum wouldn't be
much better. "Well, he just basically told me never to come back." Wind
blew through my hair, my eyelashes. I ran my hand across my backside,
feeling where his hand had been. I squinted, getting a better focus of his
little house. It seemed empty and vacant. The idea of the farmer holding me
again, me straddling his arm, cumming just from his firm wrist pushing
against my asshole, made a lump grow in my throat.

"SebBASSSTIAN!" my dad's voice tumbled through the warm wind. I snapped out
of my daze and pulled my hands out of my shorts.

"That's my dad!" I said anxiously. I hadn't told him where I'd be playing,
so he might have been worried about me. I jumped and ran down the steep
edge of the ditch. Sarah and Paul ran after me.

"Wait!" Sarah called after me, not able to keep up. "Do you think we'll go
back?" She huffed and puffed, as I sprinted forward.

"Maybe!" I yelled back smiling, my firm erection bouncing beneath my
shorts.

________________



I remembered in fourth grade reading a legend about a man named Paul Bunyan
who was so massive and so strong that just by dragging his ax through the
desert, he created the Grand Canyon.

"So, Paul Bunyan," my teacher, Mrs. Murphy, explained from her reading
chair. "He is a 'larger-than-life' character. He is the strongest, the
biggest, the bravest character in the whole story." I stared at the picture
of Paul Bunyan while sitting on the floor with the rest of my class. His
muscles were round like planets, and he stepped over mountains to get where
he needed to be. His waist was cartoonishly small, which I thought was
funny.

"What are some other 'larger-than-life' people that we know?" she asked the
class, and one-by-one people blurted out people, jobs, superheroes:
"Firemen!" "Batman!" "God!" All I could think of was my dad. He was the
most larger-than-life person that I really knew. He was the strongest
person I'd ever met, the biggest person I'd ever met, and the bravest
person I'd ever met.

My teacher had us write our own legends after reading this story. Things
that they could do that no one else could.

I wrote a story about my dad pulling all the water out of the lake, as
though it was a bedsheet, so that I could just run past all my
competitors. I drew pictures that went with it, trying to copy the
"larger-than-life" part. Dad gripping the water in his hands. Me blazing
past everyone else.

I showed my parents when I got home. My mother thought it was cute, but Dad
said nothing. Just held it, and looked at me with eyes of adulation.

________________



I pushed open the door, somewhat out of breath. "Dad?" I called. I looked
through the house, winding the halls and rooms that were becoming more
familiar to me now.

"Dad?" I checked my room, but nothing was in there except for my
untidiness. I knew I'd need to fully unpack at some point. Though, I didn't
mind living out of boxes.

"Da--aad?" I sang. No one in the kitchen. The living room. I approached the
master bedroom, the door almost closed. I knocked gently.

"Dad?" I pushed the door open slowly. As the door opened, I found my dad,
sprawled out on his bed, completely naked. The afternoon sunlight blanketed
him like a spotlight. One arm was resting behind his head, dark armpit hair
flayed out, the other arm, bicep and forearm muscles clenching and
contracting, hand gripped around his erect dick, a glistening rosy color
that gradiated to a warm tan. Legs spread nonchalantly across the fancy
comforter that my mother had bought for it. His heavy balls dancing
slightly beneath the firm shaft of his penis. The room smelled of him. That
musk that I'd grown addicted to.

I gulped, nervously. My dick went from soft to fully erect in a matter of
seconds.

"D-dad?" His eyes scanned me up and down. Fingers gliding over his
cock. "Y-you," I cleared my throat, "you called me back?"

"Yep." My eyes lingered. They carried him through me like a drink. I wanted
to leap onto him. I wanted to feel every inch of his skin. I wanted to
taste every bit of him. I wanted to swallow his cock whole.

"Is everything alright?" I asked.

"The second you, uh," he looked down at his dick, "you left the house." He
shifted on the bed slightly. "I got this fuckin' hard on," he grinded his
dick into his hand, teeth clenched. "An' it ain't goin' away," he whined
slightly. His chest heaved, pressing against his chin as he kept working
himself in front of me.

"So," he licked his lips, "I called y'back." He arched his back, pulling on
his dick. "Hopin' you would'n mind helpin' me out," he let out a sigh.

"Uh, s-sure, Dad," I said. I stepped forward, licking my lips, about to
dive into my Dad's cock.

"Wait," he commanded. I froze. "Take yer shirt off," he ordered,stroking
himself, pulling on his meat slowly. I looked around the room, somewhat
awkwardly. I was still standing pretty far away from him. I slipped my arms
inside my shirt, lifting the bottom of the fabric, revealing my chest and
stomach to him. As my shirt slid over my head, I saw him still stroking,
taking deep breaths. His cock was firm, like a baton in his hand. He
stretch his skin, milking out small beads of precum. I wanted to dab my
tongue onto the slit of his dick. Not wasting any bit of it. My dick was
pounding against my shorts. I went to undo my fly, but suddenly my dad
barked.

"Don't!" I jumped, jerking my hand away. My breathing increased. I was
confused. "Not 'til I tell you to." I swallowed nervously, putting my hands
behind my back. "C'mere," he said quietly. I stepped slowly toward him,
almost feeling like I was in trouble. With the hand that was behind my
dad's head, he started grazing my stomach with his fingers. I clenched at
the electricity of his fingers.

"'Gotta good body, son," he mumbled. He pinched my nipples, and grabbed my
arms, squeezing what muscle I had around what I considered a pretty bony
body. "Shoulders," he said kneading my shoulders as he kept laying down,
feeling himself at the same time, squeezing his balls, and flicking his
cock against his navel. I glanced at it, wondering when he'd let me stuff
my face with what I was craving.

His hand slid down my chest, my stomach, and waist, and started fiddling
with my waistband. With a firm tug, he pulled me closer to him. My cock
pulsing and leaking beneath my shorts was causing my vision to get
fuzzy. My chest seem to quake beneath my ribs. With a simple twist he
unbuttoned my shorts, and started unzipping my shorts. My breath began to
flutter as I tried to hold it together. With a slump my shorts fell to the
floor, my dick just tangled and tented in my briefs. My eyes were locked
onto my dad's twitching cock, my jaw clenched, my knees wanting to give
out. My dad's hand grazed my erection, I inhaled sharply through my teeth,
my hands still clasped behind my back.

"You want it, don't you?" he wagged his dick with his hand, pulling on it
from base to tip, a drop of precum glinting in the sunlight.

I inhaled deeply, "U-uh," I managed to say, "Y-yeah, Dad."

"'Yeah,' what, Seb?"

"Yes sir," I corrected.

"'Yes sir,' what?" he retorted, his voice deep. This same voice that
comforted me when I'd fallen down and hurt my knee. The same voice that
coached me through swim practices. The same voice who woke me up in the
morning when I was little.

"Y-yes sir, I," I searched my brain, "I want it." It felt strange to say
out loud, as often as it was in my head. This thought of my dad's cock that
seemed to be haunting me, swinging pendulously in my mind at all times.

"What do you want?"

"I want," I paused. There were so many things and ways I could say what I
wanted. But I just put it simply. "I want to suck your cock, Dad." My dad's
balls tightened as I said it. My jaw slacked with the thought of it
entering my mouth. My dad pulled on the bulge in my underwear, like a
leash, easing me toward him. His arm coiled around the small of my back. In
one swift motion, he hooked his arm between my legs and swung me on top of
him, and held me with his arms staring at me deeply. My chest pressed
against his, my stomach pressed against his, my cock pressed against his.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked me seriously every word clear as
day. "I need to know, son." His face was inches from mine. My eyes that had
been wandering, unfocused, now glued to his pupils.

"Yes," I said simply, and quietly. With that, my dad pulled my face to his,
and kissed me.

But he didn't just kiss me, like I'd seen him kiss mom. His lips buried
themselves into mine, his tongue dove down my throat, his teeth nibbled my
lower lip, as his beard and facial hair scraped against my chin. The
feeling sent flames into my blood. His hands slid their way beneath my
underwear, grabbing and squeezing my ass as he circled his hips against
mine, rolling his cock against mine, tangling his legs against mine. My
breathing became rapid, like being underwater and needing air, except I
never wanted to leave my dad's lips. I whimpered, feeling my balls jabbed
by the head of my dad's rock hard dick. I could feel my balls swell, and my
body clench and tighten, ready to come right then and there.

My dad pulled away from my face, and with one hand squeezed my
cheeks. "No," he whispered, scolding me. My balls ached, needing to
come. My dad was sending me into a place I'd never been. "You need to have
control," he said, lightly raising his hips, pushing his dick into mine,
rocking me back and forth with his core muscles. I nodded, my face still
squeezed by my dad's hand. With my confirmation of my dad's command, he
edged his face forward, and licked my contorted lips, and sank his tongue
into my mouth once more.

I imagined the world around me, moving at million miles an hour as this
happened. The room around us darkening slightly as the sun continued its
journey around the sun.

"Here," my dad said, pulling away laying out his body. "Explore," he
said. His chest ballooned in front of me, his stomach tightened, his arms
like wings on his side. "Use yer tongue," he said. I looked my dad up and
down. His encouraging brow. His toes, dusted with hair. His lips, shiny
with each other's spit. His legs, damp hair painted like dark feathers
against his calves and thighs. His chest, sculpted, yet soft, punctuated by
surreptitious nipples, pink, nestled in curly hair. His cock, as long as
I'd ever seen it, as wide as my forearm, shiny from his precum that he used
as lubrication.

"G'on," he uttered. And like a starving pig in front of a trough, I began
engulfing as much of my dad into my mouth as I could. Hair tangled in my
teeth as I ran my lips over his chest, running my face into his armpits,
swirling my tongue around his nipples, chewing lightly on the tips,
suckling on salty pinches of skin. My hand reached every direction, finding
pieces of my dad to taste and grab onto. I was intoxicated by him. My legs
grappled his waist, my dad's cock resting against my ass, tip tickling the
small of my back as though I was resting against a seat. My cock leaked
fluid through my briefs radiating from the head of my dick, practically
making my white underwear transparent. My balls rolled across my dad's
abdomen, as I continued running my hands across my dad's arms, chest,
behind his ears, taking in every bit of this moment with him.

My mother's disapproving eyes, arms folded, a cold presence floated in the
back of my mind, making me grip harder to my father's muscles and bones,
savor every cell of skin my mouth tasted. With the arch of my back, my
dad's cock prodded my balls and my asshole through my underwear, triggering
a chill to run through my skeleton.

"Ohhhh, D--ad," I whined. With my words, he yanked my neck to his face once
more, driving his tongue down my throat. My jaw, tongue, and lips danced
with his, keeping up with his movements. I was making out with my father. I
was...

"Mmmph," I groaned into his mouth, "Mmph, Deerrd," my mouth full, silenced
by his passion. My balls tightened against my cock, and my hands gripped my
dad's shoulders. "Mmph, erm...." I gasped, "Cum!" I shouted. With the word
my dad pushed me off him, flipping me onto my back, holding me down to his
bed with his hand pressing into my sternum. I took in air greedily, my legs
quivering, cum building like a garden hose that's been
kinked. "UNNNGHHHHHH," I cried under the weight of my father's naked body,
stifling my orgasm.

When the waves finally subsided, I shook my head side to side, as if waking
up from a dream. My briefs still around my waist, a stain of precum soaking
my front.

"You okay?" he asked, unrestraining me. I collected myself as he ran his
fingers through my sweat soaked hair. My cock twitched in my underwear, as
though it wasn't even a part of me. My chest heaved as though I'd just run
a mile.

"Y-yeah," I whispered. "What..." I licked my lips, quenching my parched
throat, "What happened to me?" My dad responded with gripping my sensitive
dick with his hand, squeezing and milking it as I lay paralyzed on his
bed. "Gahhhh," I groaned, my jaw dropping, neck craning backwards.

"Y'gotta be able to control it," he said into my ear, sending chills
through my body. Dad ran his fingers through the bottom of my briefs and
began tugging them off of me, the waistband scraping against my hips and
thighs. As he managed to slide them past my balls, my dick flopped against
my navel, my pubic area shining and sticky with my precum. My sensitive
cock looked a deep red, rosy, and stiff. I was desperate to cum. I glared
at my twitching five-inch prick, beckoning it to give me release, but my
dad's words rang in my ear.

He was training me. And I knew it was going to be difficult.

Dad swung his legs around my hips, his knees digging into the mattress,
pressing his weight beneath my ribs. His balls rested on my chest and his
dick, heavy, embossed with thick vein, was inches from my noses.

"Can I?" I asked. Dad held his dick in his hand, swinging it to and fro
with his fingers. It was hypnotizing. I followed its head like a
pendulum. I was starving for it.

"Can you..." Dad continued to lead me on. Precum continued to bead at the
tip like morning dew on a flower. He flicked his cock toward me, flinging
his precum onto my cheek.

I licked my lips "Can I suck it?" I asked. "Please?"

"Sure, son," he said. I excitedly shuffled onto my elbows so that I could
reach his cock. I leaned forward, mouth open, tongue extended. As I drew
closer, my dad slightly lifted his cock away from me. I jerked my head back
toward where he moved it, but every time I got close, practically able to
taste his warm dick, he'd jerk it away from my mouth. I furrowed my brow,
confused, looking up at him. Dad had a smirk on his face. I smiled
mischievously, and grabbed my dad's cock with my hand, grasping it still.

With that, I hungrily swallowed as much of my dad's cock as I
could. "Mmmm," I groaned. I was like a pig, slurping and swallowing my
dad's meat as he continued bearing into my throat, pushing his hips, at a
speed that I tried my best to keep up with. My tiny bicep flexed and
twitched as I jacked off my father, dying for more of his cum. Dad's hand
gripped my hair, and pulled me into him as he thrust his dick into me.

"Is...unf...is this what you want?" Dad grumbled.

"Mmmph, mmm-hmmm," I nodded, looking my dad in the eye. I wrapped my dad's
dick in my left hand and used my right to dig my fingers into his hip,
pulling him into my, pushing him father, wanting more of him in me, feeling
him in the back of my throat.

"Gyahh, fuck!" my dad barked, continuing to buck his hips, charging and
yanking his dick in and out of my mouth. With a big exhale he pulled
completely out of my mouth, strands of spit stretching between my lips and
cock. "Damn, Seb." I took deep gulps of breath, running my tongue around my
lips. My own dick I felt pulsing between my legs, wanting attention, but
with my dad kneeling in the way, I couldn't reach it.

My jaw was sore from holding my dad's cock in my mouth, but I felt good
knowing that I hadn't nipped him with my teeth, just as he encouraged me
before. Dad stood kneeling before me, staring down at his glistening dick,
pulling on it slowly, the spit I'd deposited on it foaming around it
slightly. I leaned forward, wanting more, but Dad leaned away from me. I
whined, disappointed. I reached for it, but my arm slumped to my stomach.

"D--ad, I wasn't finished," I complained.

"Hmph," Dad scoffed. I sounded like a spoiled brat. "Yer lucky if I give
you anymore." My eyes widened at the thought of him taking his cock away
from me. "Be grateful f'r what you have, Seb." He wagged his dick as he
squatted against his ankles, his thighs bulging and tight. Dad edged
himself off the bed, so that he was standing. I crawled toward him, like a
dog after a treat. I had to have more of dad's cock. That was the only
thought in my head. Dad held out his hand, and pressed it against my
forehead.

"Here." Dad elevated his dick to my mouth, I held out my tongue
expectantly. "Slow," he commanded. "Look at me." I fixed my eyes on his, my
mouth still wide open with my tongue hanging out. A trail of sweat crawled
down my arm and wrist.

Dad with his penetrating gaze slowly drew his cock closer to my lips. My
breath fluttered like the wing of hummingbird. Slowly he eased his cock
into my mouth, my tongue instantly working on each part of him. Once the
head was past my teeth he paused. I gummed and kissed it like a lollipop,
and though I tried to push my face forward, my dad's strong arm kept it
from happening. He felt my struggle to take in more, and came back at me
with a stronger push backwards. Dad was in control now. I relaxed, still
keeping my eye on him.

"Good boy," and onward he rewarded me with more of his dick. The head of
his dick slid against the roof of my mouth, and wider I lowered my
jaw. Further and further still, I felt my dad nuzzling against my
tonsils. I gagged, tears filling my eyes.

Dad pulled away. "Nuhhhm!" I groaned, his dick only slightly in my mouth
now. Grabbing his thigh, encouraging him to keep going. I took deep
breaths, composing myself, and Dad continued his slow push into my skull.

As his head reached my tonsils, I kept reminding myself that if I gag,
he'll pull away.

My throat hugged my dad's raging boner, collecting each small sample of
precum as my dad's balls would twitch on my collar bone. As he had put it,
I was being grateful. With a few inches more to go, however, I wasn't sure
I'd be able to swallow the rest. But still, my dad continued, slowly. I
opened up my throat, allowing more of my dad inside, until my face was
buried in my dad's pubic hair. My jaw was locked in place. I was completely
plugged. I took small breaths through my nose that entered my lungs like
silk. My eyes winced as Dad held his dick their completely engulfed by my
mouth, its mushroom tip I could feel growing in my esophagus, dripping
precum into my stomach. Tears welled in my eyes, as it became more
difficult to breathe.

Dad steadily pulled his dick from my face, my lips pulled slightly as they
dragged along his shaft. Dad sighed as he cock pulled away, his hand still
on my head, fingers tangled in my hair, not letting me move. As the tip of
his cock kissed my lips, Dad started pushing it back in.

"Hmmm," I moaned, as I opened my throat again, letting it completely
slither inside. My own dick jumped and bounced beneath my waist, swinging a
rope of precum as I stayed on all fours, letting Dad steadily slide his
whole cock in and out of my throat.

"Ahhh, Sebastiannnngh," my dad whined, gripping my hair, rocking back and
forth. The sweet and tangy taste of my dad's precum started to fill my
throat even more.

Soon, Dad was reaming my face with his cock, his balls swinging against my
chin like a boxer's speed ball bag. In and out, in and out.

"Ahhh, fuck yeah, boy!" Dad took one more thrust and held my head against
his waist, grinding his cock against the back of my throat. I sniffled tiny
breaths, showing no signs of backing down. "Yeeahhrgh," he growled, raking
his hands through my hair, clutching locks of it, wild, and unkempt in his
hands.

Finally, he started pulling away, removing his dick from my head. As it
left my lips, it bounced slightly, soaking wet from my spit. I grabbed it
with my free hand, and played with it. Squeezing it like wet soap. My lips
and cheeks were stained with my drool, with strands of Dad's pubic hair
matted to my upper lip.

Dad removed his hand from my hair, and I fell free, falling into my dad's
arms. I wrapped my arms around him, and rested my head on his chest. His
heart raced. With me kneeling on the bed, and he standing, Dad lifted me
from the mattress, and placed one hand on my ass, the other on my back, and
laid me down. My penis was aching. I needed to cum, and I felt like if my
dad even laid a finger on my swollen prick, I'd bust in a second.

Dad rested his body on mine, his sopping wet dick tangled with mine.

"Ahh, Dad," I whispered into his neck. "I wanna cum so badly." He kissed my
neck and ear. "I wanna cum, Dad." Dad kissed my collar bone, my nipple, my
belly, my waist, the tip of my dick. "AAHHH!" I gasped, gripping the bed
sheets.

"You don't need to cum, son," he said in a low growl. He kissed my dick
again. "You don't need to cum."

"Ahhh," I moaned. "Yes, I do, Dad. Yes, I do!" He kissed it again.

"Shhh," he blew into my dick. "You'll be fine." He kissed my dick again. I
took deep breaths, trying to calm down. Maybe he was right.

"Okay, okay," I whispered. I closed my eyes, and felt Dad swallowing all
five inches of me whole. His mouth was like a warm blanket after it's been
in the dryer. Or a shower after a cold swim. "MMMPH," I pushed my forearm
over my lips to keep from crying out too loud. Dad rose and fell on my boy
cock, licking, and smacking his lips. I could feel my balls tense up, and
my toes curl. A fire burning in my belly, and spreading down my legs.

"Ah. Haah. Dad. Dad." I squeezed his shoulder. I didn't need to cum, I
didn't need to cum. I kept repeating it. Even still, I knew it was going to
happen.

"Dad, I'm gonna cum," my voice whined. Dad picked up his pace on my dick,
sliding my cock against his tongue, the roof of his mouth.

"Dad. DAD!" My balls clung to the shaft of my dick, and I could feel that
fire growing inside of me. "UNNNNGH!" I groaned.

But suddenly, my dad jerked his head away from my dick, leaving it cold.

"HAAAH. ERRRSH." My dick just wobbled in the air, pulsing, my balls
circulating at the base of my shaft, my legs shaking violently, toes curled
tightly.

But, nothing came out.

"Haah. Haah." I breathed in agony. "Why..." I whined, like the child I
was. "Why...did you do that?"

"Y'gotta control yerself." Tears formed in my eyes. Why was my dad doing
this to me? I wanted to cum so bad.

"I...." I said wearily. "Please, Dad?" I whined, reaching for my dick, but
he pushed it away.

"Y'gotta learn," he said, and took my dick in his hands, slowly jacking me
off with his spit.

"Uhhhgh." I could feel it. I could feel my cum, like water balloons about
to burst. Dad placed his hands on my inner thighs, spreading my legs
apart. His thumbs massaged the space between my butthole and my balls. His
mouth swallowed my dick once more, still pressing beneath my balls. I
sighed in pleasure, my eyes rolling back in my head. My legs shook in his
hands. As he sucked on my cock, he spread my legs even further apart, so
they were hanging in the air.

"Humph," I moaned, as I wasn't used to laying like this. Dad slurped one
last time on my cock, kissed down the shaft a bit, and started circling his
tongue around my balls. "Ohhhhuhhhh." I gripped the bedsheets tighter. Dad
was sending me into overdrive. Deprived of cumming for this long was making
me go insane.

"Y-yeah...yeah, Dad," I groaned, jaw twisting with each press of his
tongue. He nibbled on my sack, pulling the skin, teasing my balls. He
kissed, and licked the space beneath my balls, making them jump and juggle
across the bridge of his nose. I craned my neck to see what he was
doing. Dad looked at me in the eyes as he sipped and kissed right above my
butthole. His hands slid to my cock, cradling my erection, and pushing my
legs even further apart.

"D-dad?" I asked, quietly. "W-what..." I shifted my hips a bit, legs still
spread in the air. "What are you...doing?" And without answering, Dad slid
his tongue into my asshole. "Uhhh-AHHHH!" I squeeled. Precum spilled out of
my cock as my dad's tongue slid and swirled inside of my ass. Images of
Coach Scott flashed through my head, remembering how he had used his tongue
to fix my injury. Dad didn't know about that, or that I'd even hurt myself
swimming. What was this? Was this normal.

All of these questions swam in my head, but each lash of my father's tongue
against my asshole, yanked me into the moment, until finally...

I submitted.

Dad placed a hand flat on my stomach, and a hand flat above the base of my
cock, pulling it to be perpendicular toward the ceiling.

"Uhhghhh, Dad. Ahhh, gawwhhd," I moaned into my shoulder. Dad stuck his
tongue straight into my ass, and even though it felt strange, maybe even
hurt slightly, I couldn't tell him to stop. I spread my legs wider so his
tongue could fill me even easier. Dad's hands rocked me toward and away
from his face, pushing his tongue in and out of my hole.

"Nrrggg, D-dad! It feels...." sweat pooled on my chest and my stomach, I
was losing my words. Unsure of what to say. "F-feels...s-so....mpppbhh," I
wailed. Dad's breath rattled against my ass. His wet tongue coiling and
wiping against the inside of my hole. Stings of pleasure, caused me to
lurch forward, only to slam back down into my dad's bed. Dad's hands
continued to rock me back and forth, and my legs continued to stretch,
allowing him to search further and further inside of me.

Dad took one more lick, then slid his tongue up my balls, and up my dick,
taking one short dive down my cock.

"Haaaaah!" I cried, shaking violently. I needed to cum. My balls felt like
grenades and my dick was a burning candle, spit and precum melting down as
my dad worked my balls some more. "D-dad," I whined. "I...I need...."

Dad wouldn't let me finish. He was in control right now. Sweat coated him
and caused his wiry chest hair to press damply against his skin. He lifted
my legs, dragging me across the bed, and curving my body, so that my back
was no longer on the mattress.

I was now face to face with my own drooling cock. My neck cramped and I
gasped and whined with pleasure. My legs still spread, and rested hooked on
my dad's arms. Dad scooted on the bed so that he was kneeling against me,
letting my back rest against his chest, and my ass beneath his chin.

Dad once again slid his tongue into my asshole. My voice was like a train
whistle, singing into my dad's room cries of ecstasy. Precum dribbled onto
my face, and I held out my tongue trying to taste some of it. Dad's facial
hair scratched and pricked my hole as he continued eating me.

Staring at my twitching prick, I knew I wasn't going to last. I could see
my balls, swollen, almost appearing purple, rising to the base of my
cock. With each jab of Dad's tongue, his growling voice sending vibrations
through my spine, precum seeped out of my dick and dabbled against my
cheeks, forehead, chin, and lips.

"Arrggh, D-dad!" My legs were starting to go numb. I wanted to contain
myself, but this was just too much. Colors swirled into my vision, and my
neck started to cramp and tense. My dick only about a foot away from my
face started to quiver and twitch along with the rest of me. "Y-yes,
Dad. Dad. Dad! D-d-deehhh." The sheets that I had been gripping started to
unfasten themselves from the mattress, furling toward us. "D-don't, don't
stop, Dad." A strand of precum that had been suspended from my dick, fell
into my mouth, and Dad kept smearing his face and tongue against my hole.

"P-pleeeezz, haaah Dad. Let me...let meehhh," I groaned, my body shaking.

"Let you what," my dad grumbled into the space beneath my balls, licking
the sweat that had pooled there.

"Lemme....lemmeehh..."

"Whaddayou want, son?" His tongue punched into my hole as he gripped my boy
dick in his hands, smearing the precum around the shaft and around the tip.

"Cuhhhm, pleazzze. Dad...I...neeeeeed....hahhhh unngnhh." Dad pressed his
face deep in between my ass, and continued jacking me off.

"Cum fer me, Seb." My eyes bugged out when he said it.

"FffffaaaAAAAGHHH! URRRNGH!" Cum came spewing from my dick, dousing me in
the face, in my hair, on my nose, my lips with warm sprays. "Unnnngh
unffff, mmmmmmph!" My legs began to shake, and my dad slowly let them ease
to the mattress.

"Daahh," I sighed, "I....tried..." I licked what cum I could from my face.

"I know, son," he swung his legs over my chest once more, inching his dick
toward my face. "Y'did real good," he said, softly. Dad took his hand and
smeared his fingers through the cum on his face, and then wiped it on his
own dick, squeezing and pulling on it, causing this slick sound to skip
through the room. "Mmmmmmmph," Dad moaned. I tried lifting my arms to him,
or my mouth to his cock, but it was no good.

I was drained. Completely.

My dad looked hazy kneeling in front of me. "Open yer mouth, Seb." And I
did as I was told. "Hold out yer tongue." I did as I was told. "Oh fuck. Oh
fugggck. ERRRRGHHH," Dad roared, shaking the wood holding up the bed, and
emptied his load on to my face. Warm ropes of my Dad's cum cannoned against
my skin. I did my best to catch it all, and the gobs of it I did catch made
my tongue tingle. I licked my lips trying to savor all of it.

With a huff, Dad slumped to me, and kissed my lips. His tongue had an
interesting taste, judging how he had gotten done licking my asshole. It
wasn't bad at all, to my surprise. He sucked the drops of cum from my face
and neck, breathing warmly and heavily against me.

"Th-thank you..." I whimpered. "Thank you, Dad." My cock stirred but was
softening, and I felt my dad's warm and sticky crotch against my
thigh. Somewhat itchy, but I didn't mind.

"Told you," he said, "you didn't need to cum." I giggled at this. I sank
into my dad's bed, letting his warmth put me in a cocoon. Time had gone by
so quickly. A velvety blue of a summer evening painted the walls,
everything else shadowy and unclear. Dad nuzzled my neck, his beard
scratching and tickling me, his nose prodding and filing through my hair,
taking deep inhales. Letting out warm exhales against my face. I would have
been fine never moving again.

DING DONG!

The chime of our doorbell jolted both of us out of bed. "Shit," my dad
hissed, reaching for his wadded up shorts. I, panic-stricken, searched for
my shorts in the faded darkness of my dad's room, Dad already bounding to
the front door.

I couldn't figure out why we were both nervous. Were we too loud? Were we
just not used to getting visitors back at home? I found my jean shorts and
yanked them on as I heard Dad open the door. My penis, softening, scratched
against the teeth of my zipper as I jogged to meet my dad.

"Aw, hey there, Mark," I heard my dad say, congenially as possible. I
walked timidly behind him. Dad still was shirtless, and shining from
sweat. His shorts sagged a bit around his waist, allowing his butt to peek
out a bit.

"Hey...guys?" Mr. Grisham was standing in the doorway. He looked at both of
us, up and down, slightly confused. Both of us, shirtless, in shorts,
sweaty, and my hair sloppy. We looked pretty rough, like boxcar riders.

"What can I do ya for, Mr. Grisham?" Dad asked, as if everything was
normal.

"Hey, Mr. Grisham," I said, cum still lingered on my breath.

"Uh, yeah...um," Mr. Grisham did his best to look at Dad and I in the eyes,
but he seemed distracted. "Well, I was wondering if the two of you would
like to, uh..." he fiddled with his hands a bit, put one in his pocket,
rubbed his chin. He reminded me a lot of Paul. I could see where he got his
mannerisms from. "...if you would like to, uh..." he said again. I noticed
Mr. Grisham looking at me. Staring, even. I shifted on my bare feet, my
cock sticking to my inner thigh.

"Sorry," he shook his head, as if coming out of a trance.

"You OK, Mark?" my dad asked, stepping forward, his tight body moving like
a wall toward this taller man. Mr. Grisham shuffled backwards a bit, almost
startled.

"Ha, yes," he cleared his throat. "I was just coming over to ask if you
would both like to join our family for dinner tonight," he said, crisp and
controlled. "But then as I rang your bell, I realized," he looked behind
us. "None of your lights were on, so I wasn't sure if y'all turned in," he
shifted his focus back to us, Dad misted in sweat, me pretty shiny myself,
hair like a mop.

"Nope, we're just conserving electricity," Dad said casually. "Once the
wife and daughter get here, it'll be, you know..."

"Ah, yes. I know the feeling," he said with laugh, and then stood silently
a bit more. "Well, uh, y'all look like you've been working hard! Still
moving in?"

"Yep," Dad said. I looked between both of them, Dad a statue, and
Mr. Grisham, a pastor.

"And, you, Sebastian?" he stooped down a bit to match my height. "How're
you liking it here?"

"It's pretty fun," I said with a shrug. "Still getting used to it."
Mr. Grisham nodded, and then furrowed his brow looking closer at me,
leaning slightly.

"Looks like you got something in your hair." Confused at first, but then
realizing, it was Dad's cum. My heart sank.

"Uh. yeah, it's...shampoo," I said.

"Ahh, I see," he said focusing his gaze around me. "You got some on your
cheek and chin, too, I think."

"Huh?" I wiped my face, and sure enough, smeared two still-warm gobs of cum
from my chin.

"Dang, Seb," Dad took my chin, and looked at me. "Gotta be more careful
with that. Stuff's expensive," he lectured, wiping my face with his
thumb. "Dinner sounds great, Mark."

"Ah...okay....great!" Mr. Grisham stuck his thumbs in his pocket. "Would,
uh, tomorrow be better? A better time, I mean?"

"Yessir, we'll be more prepared, and...presentable tomorrow," Dad's
language was articulate and polite.

"Perfect! I'll inform the misses," Mr. Grisham bowed slightly and backed
away. "Y'all have a good night, now!"

"Yep!" Dad called back. As Mr. Grisham walked away, Dad swung the door
shut.

"Shhhhhit," Dad said walking past me back to his bedroom.

"Dad?" I followed behind.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," Dad turned the corner to the bathroom, walking to the
shower and flipping on the water. Dad shoved his shorts off his waist,
kicking them off his feet, causing them to shlump against the wall. Dad
stepped into the water, rubbing his face, making exasperated sighs. I
timidly walked up to the glass shower wall.

"Dad? Is everything OK?" Dad grumbled in return, wiping himself off. A knot
formed in my stomach. I felt like I was in trouble. Dad wasn't listening to
me, so I turned to walk away.

"Wait," his voice echoing in the bathroom. I paused and turned back toward
him again. He let out a sigh, water spraying from his mouth. "C'mere," he
said holding out his arm. I took to my fly, and shimmied out of my shorts,
and stepped into the still-cool water with him. I shocked me, but it felt
nice. Dad pulled me into his side, hugging me. Like a dad hugs his son
after stepping out of the dugout after a little league game. His hands
clasped around my shoulder. I squirmed so that we were facing each other,
and rested my head against his stomach.

"We gotta be more careful," Dad said after a while. The water warm on our
skin.

"Whaddya mean?" I asked looking up at him. Dad seemed to wait a bit before
answering. He shifted away from me, grabbed a bar of soap and started
kneading it in his hands.

"People can't," he paused, running the soap across his limbs. "People can't
know...about this, Seb." My brow twisted.

"About what, Dad?" I feel like I knew the answer, but I was curious anyway.

"About...this," he made exaggerated gestures pointing to himself and then
to me. "I'll admit," he soaped up his chest and stomach, "you make me
feel..." he gave a short laugh "pretty damn good, son." I smiled. "I don'
know what it is," he washed his legs stooping over. "I can't keep my dick
soft when I'm around ya anymore." I knew how he felt. I wanted to propose
that we just do nothing but suck each other's dicks all day, and nothing
else, but I knew that couldn't happen.

"These past coupla days," he wound his hands around his still semi-hard
dick, "you got me wild, son." I just stood still watching my dad fluff his
dick, cleaning himself. "I donno if yer just growin' up, but I...I can't
help myself." I took the soap from Dad's hands and started washing myself.

"But," he said, "what just happened there with Mr. Grisham," he shook his
head. "That can't be happening." I understood. Cum on our breaths,
half-naked, and my dad's stuff all over me. "Dad's don't normally do this
kind of stuff with their sons," he said, pointedly. I thought of Gramps,
and the trouble that he got in for teaching Dad all this stuff that Dad was
teaching me now.

"Do we have to stop?" I asked. Dad smirked.

"I don't want to," he said, looking me in the eyes.

"Well, me neither!" I said grabbing my soapy dick, nursing it after the
workout Dad just gave me.

"Let's just keep it to ourselves, yeah?" he brushed my wet hair outta my
eyes. I wasn't sure if I liked Dad being nervous. Just today he was sucking
me in a Sears dressing room. If it meant that I could still play with Dad
like this, though, then I was ready to agree to anything.

"Kay," I said finally.

"Good," he replied, and switched off the water, once I was soap-free. We
dried each other off, clean from our sweat and cum, and stepped into the
cool air of our house. "We gotta take you to get yer physical done
tomorrow. S'in town at nine." Dad draped our towels over the shower.

"Dad?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"Can we stay naked tonight?" Dad laughed at this.

"Yer just fuckin' horny. Never satisfied," he grabbed our dirty
shorts. "S'fine," he said, and kissed me on the side of the head, and
patted me on the butt. I smiled excitedly. I just wanted my dick to breathe
after everything today. Wearing shorts sounded terrible.

The rest of the night was pretty normal. Dad made dinner, spaghetti and
meatballs. We talked. Dad told me about how he hated spaghetti and
meatballs when he was a kid because it was so messy.

"Still hate how messy it gets, but I'll take it," he explained. And we fell
asleep in front of the TV, holding each other on the couch. Dad's snore was
like an earthquake, a tornado, and an erupting volcano all at once, but it
was soothing to me. My mother hated it, and sometimes kicked him out of the
bed, and on to the same couch where we slept at that moment. Colors from
the TV screen colored the room blues and pinks. I reached over to the
clicker and shut it off, leaving us in darkness. I nestled into his chest,
his chest hair tickling my nose, and my stomach incubating his dick that
throughout the night would get hard. I feel like I stayed hard the whole
night, but I rested easily knowing I was with my dad.

________________

"Why do we have to do this again?" I asked my dad on the way to Dr. Amar's
office.

"T'make sure that your healthy," he responded.

"But I feel fine."

"It's more to make sure yer body is okay for sports," he
explained. "Sometimes kids have bones that aren't growing right, or heart
problems 'r other things." I looked at my arms, legs, hands, waist,
checking for abnormalities.

"You think I got any problems?"

"Hmph," he said, pulling into the parking lot. "I doubt it. But you gotta
do this if you wanna swim. Ev'ryone yer age gets one." Dad squeezed my
thigh, and rested his arm on the steering wheel, shutting off the
engine. Dad shifted his hips to face me, and just gazed at me. Almost
admiringly. It was strange, but I didn't mind him looking at me. In quick
and subtle motion he leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips, leaving
me stunned. "Let's go, Seb." I groaned, rolling my eyes and pushed open the
door to Dad's truck.

The office was fashioned out of an old brick school building from the 50s,
or maybe even before that. It even had the bell still fastened on top of
it. When we swung open the door, we instantly felt a brutal humidity.

"Hoo!" my dad belted as we stepped further in. Parents with their kids sat
waiting, shooting glances at us, fanning themselves with copies of People
and Highlights. A single oscillating fan stood at the front desk, hardly
doing any relief. As we stepped up to desk an older woman with laugh lines
frowned and said, both eyes barely open: "AC's out." And used a doctor's
pad as a fan. "Fill this out, and have a seat, Dr. Amar will be with you
shortly." Dad took the clipboard, and we both took a seat. I grabbed one of
the Highlights magazines on the table next to us. I liked finding the
hidden pictures, and even though I was about to turn 13, I still had fun
with it.

Luckily no one in the waiting room appeared to be sick. I feel like this
would be a terrible place to be if you had a fever. Sweat was already
forming beneath my neck at dampening my hair.

"Ashley?" A voice from a doorway near the front desk called out. I looked
up, and I saw a man wearing a white doctor's coat over a tan button up
shirt and black pants. A stethoscope was draped around his neck. I assumed
this was Dr. Amar. He was a rather tall man with broad shoulders, brown
skin that looked like a candy bar, and thinning black hair. He looked to be
in his early forties, probably a little older than my dad. He had an
aquiline nose that stood prominently over slightly tight lips. His thick
eyebrows raised high on his head, looking for his next patient.

"I think she left, Dr. Amar," the woman crowed from the front desk area.

"Ah, ah, okay, okay, then," he searched his clipboard, "Megan?" Megan, who
was maybe six, and her mom stood up and hobbled over to the door with
him. Sweat was beaded on Dr. Amar's forehead and upper lip, but he still
smiled, and welcomed them into the next room. I glanced at my dad who was
reading a magazine about cars. I suddenly felt childish holding the
Highlights magazine, which was meant for kids. I tossed the magazine away
and pulled a different one out of the pile--Men's Health.

The cover had a shirtless muscly guy, holding a bottle of water, it
splashing about. The guy's face looked like he was roaring in victory. I
flipped through the pages, checking out guy after guy, sweating, flexing,
in push-up position. I felt my dick twitching beneath my shorts, causing me
to shift uncomfortably. The heat stuck my boner to my legs, making me shove
my hands down my pants to pull it to a more relieving position.

"Seb, cut it out," my dad said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry," I responded quietly. I kept flipping the pages, admiring each
man's physique, wondering if I'd ever look like that. Eventually, I came to
an image of an older man, grey in his hair, that pictured him emerging from
a pool. His hands were pressed on the edge of the pool, as the waist-up of
him was being lifted out of the water. His triceps were like stone, masked
by the sun and shadows of his muscle definition. His chest was tight, water
tracing his pecs and dripping from his nipples. I flipped the page and saw
other angles of him. Standing proudly in a speedo after a swim, his dick a
tight bulge, protruding against the tight fabric. His waist a defined "v"
that seemed sculpted by an artist. I exhaled, exhilarated. I wanted to look
like this man, even though he must have been pushing sixty, he looked
fantastic.

My boner banged on the cage of my shorts, begging to be set free. I shifted
again.

"Sebastian?" a voice snapped me out of my daze. I looked up to see Dr. Amar
standing at the door, expectantly. I looked at Dad, who'd put his car
magazine down a while ago. He stood, and so I followed.

As we walked up, my dad held out his hand for a handshake, which Dr. Amar
accepted firmly.

"Doc," Dad said, sounding all business.

"Mr. Smalls," Dr. Amar responded, "Good to have you here with us
today. Sorry for the heat."

"S'okay. We're used to it, I think," Dad reassured.

"Right. This way please," we followed behind and left the waiting
room. Dr. Amar had a sweat stain tracing his spine through his two
layers. I couldn't imagine how uncomfortable he had to feel. Dad was maybe
five inches shorter than Dr. Amar, but definitely bulkier. They looked like
superheroes going to a secret lab or something, which made me smirk,
despite the full-mast boner I had tented in my shorts that sprang up in the
waiting room earlier.

"Just through here," he let my dad and I move ahead of him into his
office. Pictures of the ocean, and birds, as well as cartoon characters
that I was familiar with, Ren and Stimpy, Rugrats, and Rocko were pinned
and framed on the walls. Dad and I sat on a bench while Dr. Amar sank with
a dramatic "whooof!" in his comfy-looking office chair. A tall, adjustable
and cushioned table sat next to the wall with easy puzzles on the floor,
probably from patients from earlier today.

"Alright, Sebastian, is it?" Dr. Amar clicked a pen from his pocket. His
sideburns seemed damp from the humidity and heat, the only ventilation
being a single open window that sat near the bench where Dad and I were
sitting.

"Yes sir," I replied, straightening my posture.

"'Yes sir', hmph," he replied, "I like that," he scribbled on his notepad
smiling. "You raised him well, Dad." Dad smirked at this, as he put his arm
around me, his armpits warm and damp on the back of my neck. The closeness
of him made my dick even harder. I took a deep breath, trying to control
myself, like Dad had taught me the night before.

The night before. "Ugh," I thought. That wasn't helping. Visions of Dad
driving his tongue into my asshole flashed through my head.

"So how old are you, Sebastian?" he asked.

"12, about to be 13," I responded.

"Hoo, boy!" he cried comically, "Dad, I hope you're ready! Hormones are
going to be like a firework show!" He made huge bursting motions and went
back to scribbling. Dad chuckled at this. I smiled politely, unsure of what
he was talking about. "And what grade?"

"Going into 7th," I said.

"You excited for school?" he said seriously, an eyebrow raised.

"Well...." I paused.

"You can't wait! I knew it!" I laughed, looking at my feet
sheepishly. Dr. Amar was funny! "And you're here for a..." he searched his
notes, "...a physical?" he wiped the sweat from his brow, looking at me
reassuringly.

"Yes sir, I guess," I responded.

"You guess? Ha, well, you're about to really find out in a minute," he said
jokingly. Dad chuckled at this. He'd had lots of physicals before, so he
knew what happened. I still wasn't entirely sure. "Well, if it's alright
with Dad, I can take it from here?" he asked, lip pouting, shoulders
shrugged.

"Yep," he patted me on the thigh, and then stood up. I followed him rising
up, confused.

"He's just going to give us some privacy," he said as he retracted his
pen. I looked at Dr. Amar, worried.

"Seb, he's gotta check you out and stuff. I'm just gonna wait in the
waiting room," he said as he pointed to the door.

"He'll just be outside," Dr. Amar reassured, leaning back in his chair,
rocking back and forth, resting his hands across his stomach. "In the
waiting room." Something about Dr. Amar made me feel comfortable. He was
weird, kinda nerdy, but I could tell he loved his job.

"Okay," I said. Dad gave me a slight wave and slipped through the door,
closing it with a click. It was just me and Dr. Amar.

"Okie dokie," he said, springing out of his chair. He had a definite
foreign accent, even though I had no clue where he was from. His voice was
light and velvety, almost like warm dessert. He was joyful. Giddy. Excited
to help. "Let's get you measured and weighed." He bounded to the
height-weight scale that stood near the door, standing next to it. "Just
kick off your shoes and socks and step on up!" he said patting the metal
frame of the scale.

His enthusiasm pulled me out of my chair, and shuffled up next to him, hand
in my pocket, doing my best to tuck my boner to the side, so it wasn't so
noticeable. I slid my tennis shoes off and pulled my socks off my feet. The
air was slightly cooler and felt good against my toes.

I stood up on the wobbly scale, centering myself on the gray square of the
scale. First, Dr. Amar pulled the crane-like beam from the scale, unhinging
the metal rod, inching it toward the top of my head.

"Now, I know you are a giant, but..." he set the rod on top of my head,
"just look straaa-ight ahead." Dr. Amar wrote something on his
clipboard. "Four feet," he scribbled, "ten inches." He dotted his
paper. "93 pounds. Maybe not a giant," he said, "but perhaps someday," he
patted my shoulder. I snickered. "Go ahead and step off, please." I
followed instructions, standing barefoot on the tile floor.

He moved to take off his coat. "You mind if I take this off?" he asked,
holding onto the lapel of his collar.

"I don't mind. It's really, really hot in here!" Dr. Amar's office had that
one open window, but that was it. He shed his lab coat and draped it over
his chair. His tan button up had stains around his armpit, and down his
back.

"Woooof!" he cooed, loosening his tie, and unbuttoning his top two
buttons. I saw the white of a tank under his shirt. Three layers? How could
he even think straight? "Alright, Mr. Sebastian. Go ahead and remove your
T-shirt, and have a seat up here." He patted the cushioned table. I looked
at the table, and then back at him. He had a comforting ease about
him. Even though he was sweating buckets, he was still doing his job, and
making me feel normal. Though, taking my shirt off in front of this
stranger definitely felt odd.

"Here," he said unbuttoning his tan shirt, "I'll remove mine, so we're
even." Button by button he removed his shirt, his bleached white wifebeater
beneath, a sweat stain on his collar. As he tugged on his sleeves, removing
the shirt completely, I saw that he had long and well-built arms. A lot
like the action figures I used to play with. His skin shone with the sweat
of an early day's work, and his muscles twitched with each slight
movement. He wasn't like my dad, sculpted and cut like a gemstone, but I
could tell he was strong. Wiry hairs bristled from his shoulders and the
back of his neck.

"There we go, much better," he said with a breath of relief. "Now," he
clicked his pen, "your turn." He held out his hand to help me up on the
table. I took it, and as I scooted myself on the table he rested his hand
which was surprisingly giant and decorated with hairs on his knuckles,
wrist, and back of his hand, on my knee.

I peeled my shirt off and balled it up, setting it on the floor.

"Thanks, Mr. Sebastian." Dr. Amar leaned back and grabbed some tools from a
drawer and from a jar on the table next to him. He rolled up next to me so
that my knees reached his shoulders from where I was sitting. "Okay," he
reached for a small cone shaped flashlight attached to a lever. "Just stare
straight ahead for me." He shone the light in my eyes. It was bright, but I
stared ahead as he told me to. "Looks good." He pressed his hand against my
jaw, directing me to turn my head. He placed the flashlight in my ear, and
adjusted himself so that he was leaning against me slightly, so he could
see inside. His body was warm against mine, and I felt the firmness of his
chest against my shoulder. I furrowed my brow as I felt myself getting hard
in my shorts. I adjusted my posture slightly.

"Okay. Now turn again for me." I turned my head the other way, and he
circled around and peered inside again. "Okay, very good. Looks like you've
got a brain in there!" I laughed.

"Okay, now just--" Suddenly, a crew of men with leaf-blowers,
weed-whackers, and lawnmowers started up their equipment, and the buzzsaw
noise of outside filled the small doctor's office. Dr. Amar slapped his
hands against his thighs, exasperated. "SORRY!" he yelled over the
noise. "JUST OPEN YOUR---"

"WHAT?" I asked.

"OPEN YOUR---" he motioned with his mouth, tongue sticking out. He placed a
tongue depressor on my tongue, and shone a flashlight. The noise was only
getting louder. He shook his head, stood up, and went over to the window
and closed it with a slam, stifling the cacophony from outside.

"Ahh, that's better," he mentioned. While the noise was gone, the room was
now completely unventilated, and sweat began to form behind my ears and at
the base of my neck, as well as Dr. Amar's cheeks. "Okay, let's try that
again, shall we?" He placed his hand beneath my chin, tongue depressor in
hand. I opened my mouth again, flicking out my tongue. He placed the wooden
depressor near the back of my tongue.

"Ahhhhh," I said on cue. Dr. Amar shined a light inside my mouth checking
my throat.

"Alright, very good," he jotted something on his pad, and then tossed the
stick into the trash. "You know," he motioned as he wrote, "most kids gag
at that part!"

"Ha," I laughed lightly, wetting my dry throat. He took a small triangular
shaped hammer, which I knew was for testing reflexes. He placed his warm
hand on my calf steadying my leg, and then knocked just behind my
kneecap. Just like it should, it shoved forward, my foot knocking him in
the ribs.

"OOF!" he play-grabbed his chest as if I'd wounded him. I laughed
politely. This guy was a clown, but I could tell he loved his job, more
than most people in the world. "Okay," he set his pad and pen down. "Now
for the fun part," he clapped his hands together. "Go ahead and strip down
to your underwear for me." I laughed, thinking it was another joke. He
looked at me, deadpan.

"No, seriously," he said, removing the stethoscope from around his
neck. "I've got to check to see your musculature, bone structure,
heart-rate, and, well..." he looked around awkwardly, "other stuff." He
smiled.

"Oh," I said. "I really have to?" I was already not wearing a shirt. What
more did he need to see?

"Yes, definitely. You aren't shy are you?" I looked at my hands. "You're a
swimmer! You walk around in barely anything! Coach Scott has seen quite a
lot of you already," I shot a look at Dr. Amar. Did he know?

"Here," he said finally. Dr. Amar stood up and peeled off his damp wife
beater, showing off thin patches of armpit hair, and a decently defined
stomach and chest, sparse hairs that seemed to squiggle around his chest,
and clouds of hair around his dark nipples. My eyes widened as he revealed
his torso to me. He definitely exercised, but it was the body of a man who
works all day, and has little time for himself. A narrow waist, with
sharp-looking hip-bones, holding up soft obliques that splayed and twitched
as he moved his arms up and down.

My dick sprang to full attention. Dr. Amar's scent filled the room. A
mixture of man's deodorant and sweat.

"Alright," he said with a satisfied sigh, tossing his shirt onto his
chair. "Can we do it?" He held out his arms. I admired him as he stood in
front of me, arms akimbo. My eyes scanned down his chest, his stomach, a
simple line of hair leading from his naval into his khaki slacks. Skin
shining with heat. He was willing to do all this, just to get the job done.

I nodded, reluctantly, unbuttoning my shorts, and twisting my hips to scoot
them off of me.

"That's a good boy!" he held out his palm for a high five. After giving him
some skin, my shorts slumped to the floor, in a pile with my shoes, socks
and shirt. Dr. Amar stuck the earpieces of the stethoscope into his ears,
and reached his hand around my back. "Go ahead and lay down for me." I
followed command and laid on my back, doing my best to shift my underwear
to keep my erection from peeking out of the waistband.

"Alright, Mr. Sebastian. Are you a robot?" he asked, standing so that his
waist was level to my ear.

"Uhh," I searched for a response.

"Hmm, robots usually say no immediately. Let's check." He placed the
stethoscope over my heart. Even though the room was stifling, the coolness
of the metal shocked me. He rested the metal firmly on my chest, moving it
slightly as though he were searching for something. He moved it slightly
closer to my nipple.

"Take deep breaths, please," he said. I did as I was told, taking long
breaths, in and out. As I did so, I relaxed a bit closing my eyes. As my
chest rose and fall, I could feel Dr. Amar's thumb slightly grazing the tip
of my nipple, causing my dick to twitch slightly. "Mm-hmm," he commented,
and then moved the stethoscope to my right side. "Deep breaths," he
reminded, and then inhaled and exhaled with me. He circled the stethoscope
around my nipple this time, moving up my chest with the instrument. With
his pointer and middle finger, he traced around the outside of my nipple,
pinching to tip slightly. I couldn't tell if he was doing this on purpose
of this was part of the exam, so I didn't say anything.

I just kept enjoying what it was doing to my cock, to be honest.

"Your heart rate is pretty quick!" he smiled, placing the stethoscope metal
beneath my ribs, and running it down my stomach toward the waistband of my
underwear. "You must be nervous!" he commented. "Or excited," he added
slipping the stethoscope beneath the elastic of my briefs.

"M-maybe both?" I said, uncertainly. He laughed, leaving the stethoscope
there.

"I'm checking your blood flow," he explained steadily. "I want to make sure
that your circulatory system is working fine." He traced his stethoscope
further near my groin, my erection tugging against my briefs as he moved
further down. "Which you seem to be experiencing a steady blood flow
throughout your body, which as an athlete..." with one more inch he moved
the instrument further down to my thigh, the elastic flinging away from my
erection, my five-inch dick slapping softly against my stomach. "...good
blood flow is important."

I was mortified. I was laying, horned up, fully hard in front of my
doctor. He would never say it's okay to be on the swim team now! Instead of
scolding me, he continued writing notes on his notepad. "Don't worry," he
mentioned, a soft smile on his face. "It's normal for boys your age to get
aroused at peculiar times."  Dr. Amar removed the stethoscope from my
waist.

I raised my eyebrow.

"Really?" I asked, my breath becoming slightly quicker.

"Well, sure," he said reassuringly. "Your body is changing, and one of
those changes is the drive to have sex. To reproduce." I looked down at my
dick, my stomach, which glinted with a slight glare from the sun. "We're
all animals, in the end," he explained. "But," he continued, "just because
you're a little randy doesn't mean we stop the exam," he patted my thigh,
and pulled open one of the drawers under the table I was laying on.

"W-what," I called out, "what more do we have to do?"

"Just a few more things," he closed the drawer, wiping his forehead with
his forearm. "It won't take long." The room was starting to get warmer,
making my head swim. Dr. Amar's chest and shoulders had wreath of sweat
forming upon his skin.

"First, some questions," he rested his arms on the edge of the table. "Have
you been feeling any muscle cramps?"

"No, just after I swim a long time."

"Any muscle pain?"

"No."

"Do you eat three times a day?"

"Yeah."

"Have you experienced an ejaculation?" Ejaculation. I didn't know what that
meant.

"Huh?"

Dr. Amar smiled. "Ejaculation. When your body experiences intense
pleasure," he glanced at my erection, and spoke matter-of-factly, "you'll
feel a sudden pulse or series of intense pulses through your whole body. As
you get older, white fluid will exit your penis, called sperm."

"Oh, cumming?"

Dr. Amar looked taken aback. "Uh, yes, I suppose that's another name for
it," he said smirking. "So, have you," he paused, smiling, "'cum' before?"
I wasn't sure how to answer. If I said no, but had, would that affect my
exam? If I said yes, would I get in trouble?

"Y-yeah," I decided, "I have."

"Again, this is normal for boys your age. Nothing to be ashamed of." I felt
relieved to hear not only my dad say this, but also an actual doctor, whom
I felt I could trust. "Now," he scooted a bit closer, "the $25,000
question: are you sexually active?" Again, I didn't know what that was.

"What's that?" my dick continued to pulse and twitch. I wanted to jack
off. It was like an itch needing to be scratched. I shifted my shoulders to
get more comfortable. The leather material of the table clung to my sticky
skin.

"It's really simple," he said. "Have you had sex with anyone before?"

"Oh," I said. "No," I replied. I knew what sex was. Sex was when a man and
a woman loved each other very much, and they were married, and wanted to
have a kid. My dad explained it to me, but so had friends from my old
town. Every kid knew what sex was.

"Ah," he said, "very good. Thanks for answering those. They can be kind of
awkward."

"Yeah, haha."

"Speaking of 'awkward'," he said, raising his hand up slightly, holding a
pair of gloves. "I need to do some checks," he paused, "'Down South.'" I
raised my eyebrows, slightly confused.

"W-whaddya mean?" I asked.

"Well," he started, fiddling with the gloves to get them open, "with every
physical, I have to check to make sure everything's attached correctly."
Dr. Amar's hand that was somewhat shiny from sweat tucked inside the glove,
but he struggled to get his fingers all the way through. "So first, I have
to check your testicles."

"My...balls?" I swallowed nervously. The idea of him, a stranger, touching
me down their made my stomach flutter.

"Ah, yep. As your body is changing, your anatomy, especially your genitals
start to change. You want me to go into the gory details?"

I smiled. "Uh, no, that's fine."

"Don't blame you. What I'm going to do," he placed his wrinkled yet gloved
hand on my thigh, "is feel your testicles, your...balls, to make sure that
there isn't anything abnormal or strange. Sound good?"

"Yes. I-I mean, okay." I shifted nervously. In this heat, sweat had started
to bead and collect in my collar bone. My hair, typically tangled and messy
with its shagginess was starting to mat against my head with perspiration.

"I'm just going to scoot these down a little bit," Dr. Amar tugged at the
waistband of my underwear, sliding them down to my knees. I clenched my
toes nervously. My balls hanged loosely from my cock because of the
heat. "Okay," he said, "try not to laugh." He placed his hand beneath my
balls, and kneaded each one with his fingers. I didn't like how the gloves
felt on them, but I trusted him, and that he probably didn't want to touch
me down there with his bare hands. Being touched down there, regardless,
made my dick jump with life. Dr. Amar's hand prodded, scooped, held,
lightly squeezed, as though he were searching for something. I closed my
eyes, trying to ignore the feeling it was giving me.

"Okay, turn your head and cough for me." I did as he told me, coughing
twice toward the wall away from me. My balls bounced, and my dick twitched
as I did so. Dr. Amar continued rolling my balls in his hand, like two
stones, examining them closely. "Again, please?" I coughed once more, away
from him. Dr. Amar, lifted, and checked beneath them, resting them in the
palm of his hand. "One more time, please." Again, I did as he told me to.

I looked down to see a faint glimmer of precum, barely visible, seeping
from my cock. I prayed that he wouldn't notice. Moving my left arm to
scratch my hip, I made sure to dab the tip of my cock, wiping away the
drool that my cock was starting to leak. A bubble of humidity seemed to be
wrapping around us. Dr. Amar removed his hand from my balls.

"Everything looks great, Mr. Sebastian!" he peeled the glove from his
hand. I was relieved. We must be done by now, I thought. "Just one more
thing," he continued. My heart sank. "One of the organs I need to check is
called the prostate."

"W-what's that?" I asked. Am I going to have to get an x-ray? Get cut open?

"It's a small lumpy shaped thing that boys and men have. It's somewhat
connected to your urinary, digestive, and reproductive systems, and it's
important for me to make sure that it's the appropriate size and firmness."

"Oh," I said, all the big words flying over my head, but I appreciated his
steady patience. With all those people in waiting room when we got here, I
had to assume he did this all the time. "I guess that makes sense."

"It's really simple for me to check. I just need you to remove your
underwear, and get on your hands and knees." I hesitated for a bit,
uncertain. "Don't worry. I'm sure your prostate is fine, I just have to
make sure so that we can get your exam finished, and you can get to
swimming."

I nodded. I lifted myself from the soft table, the plastic-y leather of the
surface peeling away from my back, slick with my own sweat. I slid my
underwear from my legs and then tossed them into the pile of clothes on the
floor.

I was completely naked in front of Dr. Amar.

I flipped over so that I was on my hands and knees, my ever-stiffening cock
bobbing from my waist, perpendicular to the table, my balls seeming heavy,
dangling further toward the table than I'd expected. Dr. Amar stood up and
walked behind me. Flashes of Coach Scott entered my mind. His lips on my
butthole. How good that felt. What was this "prostate exam" going to be
like?

"Okay, Mr. Sebastian," I saw him toss the gloves into the trash. "What I'm
going to do is insert my finger right inside here," he tapped a finger on
my asshole, causing me to jump slightly.

"In...inside?" I asked, somewhat worried.

"Yes, it will be kind of uncomfortable at first, but I promise I will not
to hurt you." Dr. Amar took a bottle of what looked like lotion from the
drawer and squirted some of it onto his index finger. "I'll go very
slowly. This is to locate the prostate, which, the only way I can access it
is entering through your anus and rectum, which is right here," he rested
his opposite hand on my asshole, covering it with his fingers. Just being
touched right there was enough to make my dick twitch, charged with an
electricity that I still struggled to control. "Just take deep breaths, and
it will be over before you know it." I nodded, gripping the sides of the
table.

"Ready?" he asked, softly.

"Y-yeah," I responded, clenching my eyes shut.

"Okay, I'm just going to put some of this cream on your anus," suddenly I
felt a silkiness circulating my asshole. I took a deep breath, part due to
nerves. Part due to it feeling...

"Haaa," I exhaled. The warm air from my lungs tickled my throat.

"Your anus," he continued smearing the cream around my asshole, "is an
opening at the end of the alimentary canal...you know it as, well...where
you defalcate." I smiled, slack-jawed from feeling Dr. Amar massaging my
asshole. My eyes still closed, but not so tightly as before. "It has a
remarkable ability," he carried on, "to stretch."

BAM.

A shooting pain drove through my spine and down my legs to my
toes. "WAHHNNGH!" I grunted, gritting my teeth, my hands clutched the
table. I felt my asshole clenching around something. Like a stick or a
pole. My ass was squeezing onto it tightly.

"Breathe, Mr. Sebastian." I breathed in and out, quickly, shallow. My knees
quivered. "Deep breaths," he cooed. I took a deep breath in, and a deep
breath out. "Right now my pointer finger is in your rectum, and your
sphincter muscle has instinctively tightened around it, because typically,
things go OUT not IN your butt, right?"

"Unnngh. Uh-huh...mmmmph," I whined. I hated it. I never wanted a prostate
exam ever again. I wanted him to stop talking about it, and just get it
over with. All I could think about was needing to use the restroom. Wanting
to push it out of me.

"So right now," he said softly, "I need you to relax that sphincter muscle,
so that I can continue without causing you any discomfort."

"OH, SURE! NNGH," I yelled. "I don't know HOW."

"Breathe, Mr. Sebastian," he took a deep breath, and I followed him. With
each breath, I felt myself start to relax. My back loosened, my hands
unfurled, my jaw wasn't so tight. Soon enough, I barely felt his finger. He
was right. Relaxing worked. I looked down, and noticed my dick had softened
a bit. That's a relief, I thought, I'd rather not give Dr. Amar the wrong
idea that I actually enjoyed this. "Okay, now, I'm going to move my finger
to push on your prostate. This might feel kind of weird. Okay?"

"O-okayeergh," I said, trying to stay relaxed.

"Heeere, we go," he cued. I felt his finger twist and curl slightly, guided
by my muscles and the lotion on his finger.

"UH...unhh...ahh," it was as if he pressed a button from within me. A
strange pleasure surged through me that I'd never experienced
before. Electricity that started from between my shoulder blades and like a
series of rivers traveled across my skin.

"Okay, I think I found it," he said calmly as he pressed gently against my
prostate.

"Uh-huh?" I said, in a state delusion.

"So I'm checking to see," his finger continued moving around inside of me,
"for any thing that feels," pushing further and retracting his finger
inside of my asshole, "swollen, or abnormal." His finger slowly moved in
and away, exploring, snaking circuitously inside this part of me that I was
only just now discovering. I peered open my eyes to see my now
fully-throbbing cock leaking clear precum. A strand that must have dangled
six inches from the tip of my dick, toward the table.

"Your prostate," he explained, pressing his finger deeper, with a bit more
force, "is directly next to your seminal vesicle."

"Haa..." I moaned softly. When he moved in and out, it kind of hurt still,
but when he pressed against the prostate, it felt like I was going to pee,
or some weird ball of electricity was resting behind my dick. I wanted to
shoot it out. It was such a strange argument happening in the lower half of
my body. I wanted him to stop, but at the same time I wanted him to keep
going. If only to see what would happen. As I craned my neck to see my
vibrating dick, Dr. Amar's finger twisting inside of me, and my tight
stomach clenching with each new feeling, I couldn't help but be surprised
at this person I was becoming. Someone who refused to try anything new,
unless I was following someone else's lead, now allowing a stranger to
search inside of my hole, and kinda liking it.

"So if the prostate is stimulated, it can cause some of the semen in your
testicles to be sent through your urethra and out of your penis," he
explained, finger still pushing inside of me, my dick jerking as if shocked
by an invisible spark plug. Precum began to drip onto the table. As his
finger pushed and pulled, my body followed his hand, like waves ebbing and
flowing on the coast. I felt his finger digging through my tight hole,
almost like looking for loose change.

"Ahhgh," I groaned, sighing, exasperated, pushing backward, forcing his
finger deeper into me. A bigger gob of precum dripped to the table.

"Oops!" he said suddenly, pushing his finger deep into my ass as I leaned
back into him, my eyes widening. "Looks like some of that semen came out of
you just now. Don't worry, that happens. Even to grownups!" All I could do
was stay perfectly still, my eyes bugging out of my head, jaw hanging
open. Ripples of pleasure spidered across my body. Sweat started to slide
down my forehead, into my eyes. I wiped my eyes with my sweaty arm, trying
to keep balance. My left arm was getting shaky.

"Here," he said, "why don't we continue the exam on your back. It works the
same," he explained. I nodded in response, unable to think of words to
say. Suddenly, he removed his finger from my ass, and I panicked. It felt
like I had just made a mess all over the table.

"Ah! I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" I cried, trying to control my breath.

"Sorry for what?" he walked around to the side of the table, his chest at
my eye-level. Sweat stained the waist of his slacks. I imagined a giant
dump on the table.

"It...it felt like..." I said, out of breath.

"As it should," he said with a laugh, "You've never had anything else come
out of you like that before." I guess that made sense. "Here, you lay on
your back, and we'll continue." I sighed, taking a moment to wipe the
precum from my dick, and smear it onto my thigh.

As I fell to my back once more, thrusting my hips in the air to get
comfortable. I was shocked to looked over and see Dr. Amar unbuckling his
belt and taking off his slacks. "Ahh, that's better," he said turning back
around to face me. He wore a pair of pale blue boxer shorts, a familiar
tent formed near his left thigh. "I'll have to switch to gym shorts after
this," he said smiling. As he stepped closer to my side, his waist was
inches away from my face, he asked, "You're okay with me getting
comfortable, right?" I could make out the outline of the head of his cock,
reaching to about the middle of his thigh.

I cleared my throat, "Uh, yeah. I mean," I could help but take Dr. Amar in,
getting an eyeful. "Yes, that's okay." After having my asshole probed,
swimming in this heat, I wanted more.

"Okay," he said smearing more of the lotion on his fingers, "Just bring
your knees up to your chest," he said guiding my legs to where he wanted
them. "Spread your legs like this," he instructed. He held my knees in
place so that my bent legs made a Y-shape. "So I'm going to do the same
practice, but I'm going to try two fingers. This will stretch the anus and
prevent the sphincter from closing me off from the prostate."

"You think..." I started, "you think that'll work?" He stood next to me,
waist still at my eyes, reaching across my belly with his left arm, a gob
of lotion in the two fingers he planned to use as his instrument.

"Most patients need one finger to get used to the initial discomfort," his
forearm pressed next to my dick, as he used his fingers to dress my asshole
with more lotion, dipping his fingertips slightly inside. "As you relax
you'll notice that the fingers will guide themselves in.

"Hoooommph," I whined in a low voice. I felt my asshole resisting at first,
but then kept breathing as he told me, and I felt it relax. Dr. Amar's
middle and pointer finger slowly sank deeper into my asshole.

"G-guhh...mmmmph," I whined, tears forming in my eyes.

"Still hurting?" he asked.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "Doesn't hurt," I reassured, looking
into his eyes, longingly.

"That's what I like to hear!" he beamed. "Okay, I'm going to try to locate
the prostate again. Remember, deep breaths. Relax, okay?" I nodded, taking
in a gulp of humid air, preparing for what this would feel like.

Dr. Amar hooked his hand slightly, pressing into my prostate as if were a
target.

"Ahhhh!" I winced, clutching Dr. Amar's arm, a smattering of precum leaked
from my dick, collecting on my navel. I controlled my breathing, Dr. Amar
looking like a blur through my eyes. Dr. Amar placed his free hand on my
chest, petting me, stroking my hair to relax me.

"You're doing great, Mr. Sebastian," Dr. Amar said softly. My hand relaxed
its grip on Dr. Amar's arm, and he continued pressing further into my
asshole with his fingers.

"Unngh," I groaned, zombified, slackjawed. Dr. Amar's fingers started to
pull out of me, but he reversed coarse, pushing deeper inside of
me. "Haaagh!" I tightened. Sweat trickled down my forehead.

"Shh," he encouraged. "Keep breathing." I continued taking steady
breaths. As I became more relaxed, Dr. Amar's fingers searched deeper,
which made me resist, then slowly succumb to the pleasure he was inevitable
giving me.

After a few rounds of this, Dr. Amar's fingers began moving in and out of
me at a steady pace.

"Huhhhngh, gawwd," I moaned, letting Dr. Amar push and pull on me from the
inside, my entire body rocking back and forth on the table. I craned my
neck to see what it looked like. Dr. Amar's left bicep was twitching with
his forearm as his fingers working with purpose, driving his fingers in and
out of me, working inside my asshole, as though I were a puppet. His thumb
kneaded by balls as he increased the strength of his exam, at times lifting
my hips and ass off the table slightly.

I wanted to cum, badly. More than I'd ever wanted to, and it looked like
Dr. Amar had figured out a switch inside of me that could control that.

My head turned to the side, examining Dr. Amar's underwear. Where I'd seen
the tent of his erection, there was a small dime sized stain, perhaps
Dr. Amar's own precum, or maybe just sweat.

Dr. Amar's arm slid against my thigh as he continued fingering me. "Looks
like you're growing more comfortable," he observed. With his free hand, he
smeared sweat down my stomach from my chest, and lifted my erection
slightly, examining it. "It appears your penis is completely erect," he
squeezed it slightly.

"Ha-ahh!" I gasped.

"With an impressive semen sample as well!" he admired, dabbing his fingers
in to the small pool of precum I'd created.

"Ehhhgh," I whined, "Th-thanks." The opening flap of Dr. Amar's boxers was
practically against my face, and I could see the silhouette of his cock
resting inside.

"I think I'm starting to feel your prostate respond to the stimulation," he
twisted his fingers inside of me, causing me to groan into his waist. He
stepped a bit closer, causing my nose to slip inside the flap of his
underwear, a tickling of fine hair brushed against my nostrils. The smell
of musk mixed with something exotic and foreign, causing my eyes to roll
into the back of my head. I wanted to taste him. His cock was so
tantalizingly close.

I decided to slip my nose into his underwear further, Dr. Amar's fingers
continuing to pull in and out of my ass. Using my neck I guided the fabric
of his underwear to elevate Dr. Amar's cock to come closer to my
mouth. With the bridge of my nose, I lifted his heavy cock and maneuvered
it so that it finally emerged through the opening, swinging above my face.

It was a color much darker than his brown skin, almost black, but the head
a rosy pink. And it was LONG! As it rested my face, it had to span the
distance of my head, with a couple extra inches.

"As a man grows up," he continued, "The size of his penis also grows." I
laid in amazement, my mouth watering. "You'll find that your penis will get
larger as you get older." I sighed as I grew more in need of his fingers
sliding in and out of me. His joints like fishhooks against my prostate,
reeling me closer to climax. Without thinking, I extended my tongue and
tasted his meat. It was incredibly salty from his sweat. I contorted my
head so that I could reach the tip of of his dick. Dr. Amar adjusted his
position, so that by looking to my left, his dick was waiting for me. His
fingers continued burying themselves in my ass.

I dropped my jaw slightly, and Dr. Amar slowly slid his cock into my
mouth. The head tasted of precum and sweat, and easily made its way to the
back of my throat. While his cock was long, it wasn't as thick as
Dad's. Maybe as thick as a regular popsicle. It was kind of a relief to
have that extra space in my mouth to be able to breathe while Dr. Amar
parked his cock in my mouth, inching its way toward my throat.

"Hmmm," Dr. Amar muttered, still fishing through my ass with his fingers. I
felt him pullout of my ass, a sensation that I still wasn't used to,
causing my eyes to bug out once again.

"Gugggh," I gargled on Dr. Amar's cock, jutting my neck to and fro in order
to swallow more of him inside me, his balls hanged low to the ground, due
to the heat, but bounced has I sank deeper on to him. I heard the cap of
the lotion click, and fingers near my ass once more.

Without being told, I lifted my feet off the table, and brought my knees
closer to my chest. I wanted to feel Dr. Amar deeper, and give him more to
explore inside of me. Once my knees were nearly touching my shoulders I
felt my ass stretch even more than before.

"Unnghhlgh," I gagged on his cock, feeling what must have been a third
finger inside of me. Sparks might have well been flying from my dick, which
was now coating my sternum with precum as my back bent further back,
granting Dr. Amar, further access to my hole.

He continued gutting my hole with his fingers, steadily, and slowly at
first, but then driving his fingers down the furthest joint possible with
relative ease.

"Y-yes," he moaned, "I can feel your anus accepting my fingers. The
examination is going perfectly." His hips gyrated as I chomped and
slobbered on his cock. "You're...ummmph....a very healthy boy, indeed!"

I became dizzy with lust. Dr. Amar's cock was pushing beyond my tonsils, en
route to my stomach if I kept pushing forward. His fingers danced inside of
me, the force of his arm pushing my body back and forth on this leather
table, sliding slightly due to my sweat soaked body. My head bobbed on his
cock, strands of drool hanging from my lips as I devoured his meat, his
balls cushioning my chin.

"In some cases," Dr. Amar, breathed, "a person can be brought to orgasm
from prostate stimulation."

"Mmmmph. Mmmphaagh," Dr. Amar's cock spilled from my mouth, covered in my
spit. I sucked in air through my teeth to catch all of my spit. "Unngh,
D-doctor, how...h-how much more?" I whined, gripping Dr. Amar's cock in my
hand, sliding my spit around his shaft, causing his knees to jolt.

"Ah! Just...just a bit more, I believe. You're doing an excellent job,
Mr. Sebastian," he said, sliding his cock into my skull once more, my
throat opening up for him. Dr. Amar continued drilling his fingers into my
asshole, jabbing my prostate, pulling and prodding more wildly as he
stuffed his dick down my throat.

I was seeing double, floating, unsure of which way was up or down. Drowning
in pleasure. Every time he pushed his hand into me, I reacted with my own
push to feel him deeper, and deeper. My legs drew further and further
apart, like the wings of a bird, my hole dying to feel more of Dr. Amar's
touch insde of me.

With my hands, I greedily gripped his forearm and his wrist, and yanked his
arm, pushing him to push harder, move faster, like a horseman pulling the
reins.

"Urrrgnh!" I growled, voice vibrating around the doctor's dick. My legs
flapped lightly as Dr. Amar punched inside of me at a grueling
pace. "MMMRPH, ERRGGH," I roared, completely plugged by Dr. Amar's cock.

"Haah, yes, Mr. Seb...Mr. Sebastian. Haah, we're almost there," he moaned,
using his free hand to pull my hair, to deep throat me.

I swooped my neck to quicken my pace as I sucked off Dr. Amar, as he
continued to jab my hole with his fingers. I could feel my dick burning
with a need to cum, to release. My ass tightened around Dr. Amar's finger's
except this time I couldn't help it.

"MMMMPH," I cried, Dr. Amar still charging his dick into my
head. "MMMPH--UNNGH," I gripped onto Dr. Amar's arm.

"Yes, errrgh! I can feel...mph...your anus...mph! mph! tightening around
my...haa...fingers...your prostate...swelling..."

"Hm...Hmph....HMPPH. MMMMMM!" I squealed through my nose. My cock spurted
gobs of cum across my chest, as Dr. Amar continued to drive his fingers
into my ass, jamming them against my prostate. My back arched and lurched,
my knees and thighs shook uncontrollably. It was the most intense feeling
I'd ever felt, and I held onto it as long as possible.

"Arrrgh, Mr. Sebastian," he continued holding onto the back of my head
pushing his cock in and out of my throat, "I'm going
to...ejac...ejacu--...aggh...I'm gonna C-CUM!" With five steady thrusts, he
emptied his load into my stomach. Cum, salty and sweat, collecting into the
corners of my mouth. "HO-oooghawwd!" he bellowed, his chest a tightened
plate, nipples vibrating as all of his muscles and energy went into forcing
his juice between my lips. And I gobbled all of it up. Every last drop.

Sweat drenched the both of us. My stomach covered in a constellation of cum
and sweat. Dr. Amar removed his fingers from my ass, wiping his fingers on
his shorts. He pulled his cock from my mouth, shuddering as it escaped my
lips. Our breathing was steady and deep.

"Hoo, well," Dr. Amar tucked his dick back in his boxers, wiping his brow
with his forearm. He reached over to his pad and pen, clicking the top of
it, and jotting down some notes. "You are definitely a healthy kid,
Mr. Sebastian. I'm sure Coach Scott will be very, very lucky to have you on
his team."

"Great," I sighed, exhausted, needing fresh air. I felt myself sinking into
the table, breath escaping me like geysers. Deflating. My eyes rolled into
the back of my head, my orgasm leaving me paralyzed. In a hammock of lust.

Dr. Amar slid his slacks back on, and walked over to the window, opening it
again. The air, though it was summer, was cool and refreshing compared to
the oven of the doctor's office.

My dick still twitched, post-cum. Dr. Amar yanked some paper towels from
near the sink and let them float to my stomach. I wadded them in my hands,
and dabbed my belly and tossed the sweat and cum stained papers into the
garbage.

"Go ahead and grab your clothes, Mr. Sebastian, and we can go back to your
dad in the waiting room." I completely forgot about Dad. Was he just
sitting there? Did he know that these appointments take this long? I peeled
myself from the table, my shadow in the form of sweat left behind, and let
my feet hit the floor.

"How do you feel, Mr. Sebastian?"

I slid my underwear and my shorts around my waist. My legs were a little
noodly, but otherwise--

"I feel good! Is that all? Can I be on the team now?"

"Yes, once you hand in my notes to Coach Scott he should let you start
right away."

"Great!" I held out my hand to take the notes from him.

"Just one moment," he took his time writing one more thing, brow
furrowed. He adjusted his softening boner beneath his slacks, and tore the
notes from his pad, folded them and handed them to me. I slid them into my
back pocket. Grabbing my shirt, I lifted it over my head, and let my arms
push through each hole, tugging at the fabric to let cooler air inside. My
hair was still a sweaty mess. I ran my fingers through it, trying to tidy
it, but it looked like I had just ran a marathon.

"If you're ready, just follow me." Dr. Amar led the way, and I followed.

When we reached the waiting room, Dad was still reading the same
magazine. He had amazing patience.

"Mr. Smalls?" Dr. Amar called to my dad. He lifted his head from what he
was focused on, and stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Dad walked up to the both of us, looking us up and down. "Uh," he remarked,
"Everything okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Smalls," Dr. Amar rested his hand on my shoulder, "Mr. Sebastian
checks out very well, and he can begin athletic exercise immediately."
Dr. Amar held out a note for my dad.

"Oh, okay," Dad took the note in his hand. "Nothing I need to worry about?"

"Absolutely not," Dr. Amar said reassuringly, "Mr. Sebastian is growing at
the rate of a boy his age. He's completely healthy."

"Good t'hear," Dad said, folding up the note in his hands.

"If there aren't any questions for me, I'd like to go ahead and schedule a
follow up appointment to see how he's doing." My dad raised his eyebrow at
his. "I always ask all adolescent athletes to follow up to see that the
strain of exercise isn't having any adverse effects on their health."

"Ah," he said, "I see. I guess that's fine."

"Two weeks exactly sound okay? Same time?"

"Yeah, we'll be here."

"Excellent," Dr. Amar held out his hand. The same hand that was up my ass,
not even five minutes ago. Dad shook his hand, and reached around my
shoulders inviting me closer to him. "Have a good day, stay cool in this
heat!" Dr. Amar smiled.

Dad and I waved signaled back to him, as he continued taking the next
patient.

As we walked outside, the air, even though it was summer heat, was a relief
to what we were just feeling inside that warm doctor's office.

As we sat in the car, I rested my head against the seat. Eyes closing,
breath escaping my lungs with a shuddering relief.

Dad stepped inside and closed the door. With a revving of the engine we
were on our way home.

I stayed mostly quiet, but my dick was still hard inside my
shorts. Something was different. Something inside of me was different. A
feeling that I wasn't used to. A buzzing feeling, slightly tickling me. I
was feeling it inside of my asshole. It was almost like Dr. Amar was still
there, feeling around my prostate.

I shoved my hand down my shorts, adjusting my erection. In all honesty, I
could have pulled out my prick and started jerking it right there in the
car and Dad probably wouldn't have cared. My fingers crawled down to my
balls, squeezing them in my hand. I slipped my fingers further, lifting up
my legs slightly, grazing my asshole with the tips of my sweaty fingers.

"Ahh," I sighed. Completely oblivious to what was around me. I circled my
finger around my slick hole, seeing how it was a bit looser after Dr. Amar
worked on it.

"So," Dad said while driving, his tone somewhat stern. "What all exactly
did you and the doctor do while you were in there?"

*******************************************************

Chapter 7 to follow.

Please email hjk7359@hotmail.com for feedback or constructive criticism.

Thank you for reading.