Date: Fri, 4 Apr 2008 11:46:08 -0400
From: rbrown001@cox.net
Subject: UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT, PART THREE

		     UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT,   PART THREE

     It took me a few days to recover from that last session, but
apparently it took the young soldier even longer. It'd already been almost
two weeks since his last visit, each day passing with no sign of him and
another one about to end as I sat alone in my office, trying to finish my
patient journal.

     I'd participated in these kinds of unspoken agreements before, but
never one I'd let go as far as this one.  Both the patient and I got what
we wanted, but with no commitment, no attachment. This time, something was
different. I didn't know then exactly how much.

     Mulling this over in my mind, I heard the nurse announce from the door
that she was leaving for the day, turning out the waiting room light as she
left. Later, as I was about to finish an entry, I felt someone in the
room. Looking up, I saw the strapping guy's face, leaning around the door.

     "You busy?" he asked softly. "The sign on the clinic door said closed,
but it wasn't locked, so I took a chance you were here and came in. "Is
that all right?"

     "Sure," I replied, gazing at him for a moment, "I'm just finishing
some paper work."  Watching him close the door, I noticed he locked
it. Feeling vulnerable, I leaned back in the chair, trying to appear casual
as I asked if he were feeling better.

     "Yes," he said, unconsciously rubbing his butt, "I was a little sore
for a while after the last treatment, but it's eased up the last few
days. I thought maybe you'd want to check it out, if you have time."
Thinking a moment, I nodded my head.

     Slowly unbuckling his belt as he walked around behind the desk, he
stood before me, legs apart, nervously unbuttoning his pants. Then, as he
opened his fly, they slid down from his body, catching on the side of the
desk. I gazed at his full crotch swelling out the pouch of his jockstrap.

     "Still sensitive down here?" I asked, watching as he pushed the
waistband down slightly, loosening the pressure of the pouch on his heavy
meat.

     "Yeah, that's why I still wear this jock. It helps some, keeping me
from moving around so much against my shorts."


     Looking at the enormously swollen pouch, stretched thin enough to see
through by the amazing amount of meat it was trying to contain, my heart
began to beat rapidly as I slipped my hand under its bulge, weighing it
heavily against the palm of my hand.

     "Not too sensitive to examine, I hope," I ventured, trying to control
my nervousness. Then, not listening to what he replied, I pushed aside the
clinging mesh aside, moving my hand in the side the pouch, caressing his
huge, warm furry balls as they moved out into my warm hand.

     Loving the sensation, I pulled down the elastic waist band down over
his swollen genitals, his meat spilling out of the pouch and into my hand
as I did. Fondling it for a moment, I hesitated slightly as their full,
warm scent assaulted my nostrils.

     Then, taking a deep breath, I leaned into the familiar warmth, sliding
his jock slowly down over his thighs, his swollen meat against my face,
teasing my lips as the familiar scent of his crotch teased my nostrils.

     Savoring once more these sensations in silence, I pressed my mouth
into its masculine fullness, moaning softly as I moved my lips underneath
his warm dick, sucking against his huge balls as I tasted once again warmth
of his groin.

    His body jerking noticeably as I moved my tongue against the velvet
soft foreskin of his dick, I forced it back slowly, moving my lips against
the moist, vulnerable flesh as the tender head swelled from its
confinement, his fingers digging into my shoulders as he moaned audibly.

     Loving it, I eagerly slid my mouth over his thick shaft, sucking it at
first slowly, his breathing becoming more labored, his hand moving almost
affectionately over the back of my neck, but only for a second. Then,
pulling away, his weight shifting on both feet, he gripped the sides of his
pants, apparently trying to pull them up.

     Moving my hands firmly around and onto the cheeks of his butt, I
blocked his attempt, looking up at him, wondering what was wrong.
     Neither of us spoke, but as I felt him loosen his grip on his pants, I
moved one hand over the desk and pushed off the bright desk light, the only
illumination coming through the partly open door. Then, leaning my head
against his lower stomach, my face nuzzled once more inside his groin, I
waited to see how he wanted to play this out, giving him the lead as I
moved my lips impatiently against the warmth of his meat.

     Soon I heard him mumble something about being sorry, still touchy and
nervous over what had happened last night. It made no sense to me. I hadn't
seen him in days, let alone last night.

     Remaining silent, my only response was to stroke the back of his
thighs and full, rounded cheeks, slowly and reassuringly. Then, as I moved
my mouth once more over his meaty crotch, I lightly kissed and massaged its
soft contours with my lips until his body once more pulled away.

     "What's wrong?" I asked. "What's upset you like this?"

     Holding tightly to his muscular lower body, I leaned against him as he
relaxed partially on the edge of the desk, beginning to open up to me,
telling me about an encounter he'd had very late last night with the guy in
his barracks who watched him so closely in the showers or any time he was
naked and exposed.

     "I've had late duty the last few nights and haven't gotten back to
barracks until past midnight. Last night when I came in, the room was dark,
as usual, and the other guys were asleep. Usually I skip a shower and just
crawl into my bunk, but last night, I got into the shower first.

     While I was soaping my body, I saw someone come into the shower
area. I realized immediately it was him, the guy I told you about. He
watched me for a moment, slowly moving closer. Then out of the corner of my
eye, I saw him pull off his shorts, getting into the showers with
me. Neither of us spoke or pretended to notice the other, but I knew this
time my dick was really swollen, much more than usual and, having no way to
hide it, I was providing him quite a show.

     Usually he showers a few feet away from me, cruising me from a
distance. But last night, he moved boldly under the same shower head I was
using. At first, I ignored him, as I usually do. But as I soaped my face
and head, I felt his body brush frequently against mine, lingering longer
each time.

     I moved back, my eyes still closed, acting as though nothing were
happening, but I could feel his body following mine, pressing more openly
against me until I felt the cold tiled wall against my hips. Then I felt
his hand touching my dick.


     Not knowing exactly what to do, I did nothing, thinking he'd move his
hand away when he'd satisfied his curiosity. But as I rinsed the soap from
my head, I heard him moan faintly and realized he was catching the soapy
water in his hand and fondling my heavy meat with it. I froze for a moment.

     Taking my passive reaction as consent, he moved his hand boldly up
under my balls, skillfully isolating my dick inside his warm hand, stroking
it firmly with a slow, massaging rhythm to which my dick responded
immediately."

     Becoming somewhat agitated as he spoke, the young soldier
unconsciously covered his then quite swollen dick with his hand as he
continued his story.

     "It's hard to explain," he said, "but if I kept my eyes closed, it was
almost like an out-of-body experience. I felt everything he was doing, but
it was almost as if it weren't really happening to me.

     We both remained silent. Even the water spraying forcefully from the
socket above my head seemed silent as it beat relentlessly against my head
and face. The only other thing I remember was the cold, tile wall pressing
against my butt as his hand moving erotically over the very swollen head
and thick fullness of my dick.

     His body pressing against mine, essentially pinning me against the
wall, I felt unable to move, even as I felt the compelling sensation of his
warm mouth sliding over my thick, swollen shaft. Then as he sucked it with
long, urgent strokes, I gradually began to feel the pressure of my load
push through my shaft.

     I tried to pull away but, yielding to the relentless sucking action of
his mouth, I felt it empty silently into the warmth his mouth, his lips
holding it securely each time my body jerked from what became an almost
painful sensation.
     Then before I realized what was happening, it was pretty much
over. Still, I felt his hand stroking my tender, swollen dick, milking it
firmly with his strong fingers as he kissed and sucked its incredibly
sensitive head over and over until it slid from his grasp, falling heavily
between my thighs as he stood up and silently left the shower area."

     At that point, the young soldier's voice faded as he stared at the
floor. The two of us remained silent for a moment, trying to sort out our
feelings.


      Strangely aroused by his story, I moved my mouth anxiously over his
genitals. Then, perhaps wanting to reclaim them as mine, I sucked his
swollen dick and balls urgently against my tongue and lips, needing some
kind of reassurance, a token of something lost. I needed his cum inside my
body.

     As I sucked, perhaps too passionately on his huge dick, his body
stiffened and, pushing against the sensation, he tried to pull off my
mouth, or at least restrict its movement on the understandably sensitive
head of his dick. But I didn't relent.

     Greatly aroused by controlling his dick, I brought him to the verge of
orgasm, his dick throbbing between my lips, much as it had, I thought, the
guy's in the barracks last night. Then as the head flared against the sides
of my mouth, preparing to spew his sperm into my mouth, I began to
visualize how the guy must have looked and felt as he tasted my soldier's
thick cum spreading over his tongue.

     Suddenly I felt as if I were going to vomit. That image nauseated me
so. Opening my eyes, I pulled my mouth off his hugely-swollen shaft,
leaning back in my chair, trying to suppress the urge.

     Gazing at his long, thick cock, swaying out from his body as if
searching for a warm mouth, I watched the tiny beads of shiny prostate
fluid oozing in succession from the large slit, glistening seductively in
the dim light.

     "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at me with a puzzled expression.
"Do you want to go into the examination room to finish?"

     I shook my head, still staring silently at the swelling beads of
precum oozing heavily from his dick. Thick and mixed with traces of milky
cum, they streaked its huge mushroom shaped head.

     Still confused, he moved off the side of the desk, standing in front
me as he massaged the sticky precum around the tip of his dick with his
thumb. Then, stroking his shaft, holding the fat, bulging head tightly in
his fist, he moved his dick closer to my lips.

     "Don't you want to finish the treatment?" he asked, looking into my
face, obviously wanting badly to cum.  I stared into his eyes until
suddenly I began to laugh, tears coming into my eyes.


     "No," I exclaimed, hiding my face, "Save it for your buddy tonight in
the shower. Giving him what he wants is more important than anything we've
done. At least to you."

     Confused and frustrated by the pressure of unejaculated sperm building
up in his groin, the boy suddenly became irritated. "What buddy?" he asked.

     Then, as it occurred to him what I was talking about, he immediately
said, "Oh, you mean . . . oh, that'll probably never happen again. Besides,
it has nothing to do with the treatments you're giving me. Does it?"
     Hurting as badly as I was then, that hardly gave me comfort. Still
disgusted and upset, I asked, "Why'd you let him do that to you? You could
have stopped him if you'd wanted to. Why didn't you?"

     "I didn't let him do it," he protested. "It just happened, fast, and
then was over." I didn't reply. "I mean, I didn't want him to do it to me,"
he added, his voice shaking defensively. "It just happened. It was late. I
was tired and just didn't want to make trouble. I just wanted to
sleep. That's all." Again, I didn't reply, just looking down at the floor.

     "Oh, what difference does it make?" he cried out. "It meant nothing to
me. I just want to forget it."  Then looking up at me, he asked, "Does this
mean we can't go on with the medical treatments any more?"  I looked at him
incredulously.

     "The medical treatments," I repeated, my voice almost giving away my
pain. "Is that all this is to you?"  Shaking my head, I tried to conceal my
disappointment and anger. "I should never have started playing this game
with you, especially when you're not willing to at least play fair with
me."

     Avoiding my eyes, he frowned, looking away. "I don't understand what
you're saying," he said defensively, "but it sounds like you don't want me
to come back to you any more. Is that it?"

     "No," I replied, without thinking. "You're wrong. I do want you to
come back. I've been waiting days for you to come back. But now that you
have, I've been forced to admit to myself there's no real understanding
between us at all."

     At first he looked defiantly at me, then his expression faded and,
looking at the floor, he said nothing more. We sat in silence for what
seemed an eternity.


     "Please," I heard him say, finally, "I'll do whatever you say if
you'll let things stay the same between us. Will that make it okay?"
Looking up at him, I tried to choose my words carefully.

     "If this continues, I need your assurance no one but the two of us
will be involved. If you ever turn to someone else again . . . well, I
don't know what I'd do. Nor do I want to have to even think about that
possibility. Can you agree to this?"

     "Yes," he replied, without hesitation, "Of course I can."  I nodded my
head, leaning back in my chair.

     "Well," I said softly, "I don't want to talk about this again, but do
you have any conditions you want to me to agree to?"

     He was silent for a moment and then, feeling him squat down by the
desk chair, he said softly, "Only that you be patient with me."

     I didn't respond, giving him time to say all he needed to say. To my
surprise, he said nothing but, resting his head on my arm, he exhaled
loudly and soon after that, I felt him rubbing his forehead in small
circles against my sleeve.  Putting my hand on his short-cropped hair, I
stroked it gently.

     "I'll try," I replied. "I always try to have patience with my
patients."  Then, as I felt his body begin to shake with stifled laughter,
I realized the humor in what I'd said and myself began to chuckle.

     Standing up next to my chair, his pants bunched up around his feet, he
leaned back against the desk as we both laughed together. Then, looking at
his exposed groin, bulging with still-swollen meat, I smiled with relief.

     "I feel better now," I confessed. "Do you?"

    "Well, honestly no," he replied, gathering his balls inside his hand,
"These guys are actually more sore now than when I first came in to see
you."

     I looked up at him, and we both smiled, nodding as he stood in front
of me, stroking his still swollen dick as I sat upright in my chair, moving
my face closer to his full crotch.


     Pushing my lips against his dick, I sucked its thickening girth,
tasting the dried cum which had leaked earlier from his slit. It was a
strong, sweet taste, a bit salty mixed with the scent of his groin. Feeling
his hands move against my shoulders, I looked up into his face, surprised
to see he was not, as usual, staring blankly at the wall or lifting his
face toward the ceiling, eyes tightly closed. He was looking down at me,
smiling faintly as he watched his dick thrust between my lips.

    Closing my eyes, I slid my mouth repeatedly over his warm dick as far
as I could, feeling his huge balls press each time against my cheeks. Soon
I had moved emotionally into a place of intense sensual gratification, but
this time not by myself. I felt his hands on the back of my head and neck,
encouraging and, for the first time, openly participating in what we were
doing.

     Then, as he leaned back on the desk, tilting his groin up, I stood,
leaning over his groin, my hand moving up inside his loose T-shirt,
massaging his full pecs, squeezing its full nipples as I sucked his dick
with long, sensuous strokes.

     Listening to him moan, his dick becoming very hard, I realized he'd
cum at any moment. Relaxing my mouth, I pulled off long enough to ask if he
were ready to cum.
     "No," he replied softly, his hand moving for the first time between my
legs, stroking my own badly swollen dick through my scrubs. "Not unless you
are."

     Very surprised by his response, I looked at him a moment.  Then,
feeling his hand pushing inside the waistband of the loose scrubs, I felt
his hand move onto my dick, at first hesitantly but then openly squeezing
it firmly against his palm. I let him feel it for a while, but then pulled
it gently away. Neither of us spoke.

     Moving his hand out of my crotch, I pushed my face against his meat,
licking and sucking his balls as my hands stroked up and down the warm,
soft skin on both sides of his powerful body, as he massaged the back of my
head and neck, forcing my head between his thighs where I focused my
attention on his dick which was leaking heavily and ready to burst its
load.

     Sucking just the tip of his head, my tongue moving excitedly over its
slit, I tasted a small amount of warm sperm ooze from the head and then
suddenly felt a heavy flow in long spurts gush over my tongue, his body
stiffening against my face as it issued from his groin.  Moaning loudly, he
held my head, begging me to stop. Exhausted, I sat back down in my chair.


     Moving to the edge of my desk, leaning his body down over my back, he
rubbed my back urgently as I swallowed his load and tongued the head of his
dick, sucking the smaller amounts of cum which continued for some time to
ooze and spurt gently from his cock.

     Eventually pulling off his red and very sensitive dick, I watched its
foreskin move slowly back over the moist head as he sat back on the desk,
opening his groin, his genitals relaxed, and hanging low over the front of
my desk.

     Handing him a damp towel, using another to clean up the front of my
scrubs and my groin, I went into the bathroom. He followed close behind
and, as we both pissed into the toilet bowl, we smiled at each other,
watching our streams enter the bubbling water, but saying very little, the
two streams blending into one.

     Looking at his watch, he said he needed to get ready for night
duty. As he was buttoning up his fatigues, he looked at me out of the
corner of his eye, a faint smile on his face.
     "You know what?" he said, "Tonight, I'll shower before I go on duty."

      I nodded my head, pleased, but saying nothing.


			     rbrown001@cox.net
				Fall, 2008