A Likely Story: A Wayward Ink Publishing Anthology (31 page)

“Have you thought that maybe a boyfriend would be preferable to a girlfriend?” he asked, struggling to control the wobble in his voice.

“My parents… would kill me.”

“You’re not a child, Martin. You’re a grown man,” Glen said huskily. “It’s your choice. You tell me you can’t get an erection for your girlfriend, and yet here you are, aroused by what I’m doing. You have to do what pleases you.”

“Mmm.” Martin squeezed Glen’s fingers more firmly. “Sometimes I… look at the men in the… uh… the porn films I watch,” he panted.

“What do you like to look at the most?”

“Their cocks!” Martin blurted. His ass clenched tighter and he arched his back.

Glen suppressed a groan with difficulty. He released Martin’s balls and reached around him instead, to grasp the base of his cock. It throbbed in his hand and he gave it a squeeze. Martin moaned and squirmed.

“Martin, you know that a doctor-patient relationship is completely confidential,” Glen said.

“Yeah.”

“So you can use this appointment to learn about yourself, and explore what you like,” Glen continued. “You seem to like this. …” He applied firm pressure to Martin’s prostate, and at the same time rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock. Martin let out a deeper, longer groan. Glen ran his hand up and down Martin’s rigid shaft a few times, and then resumed stroking the crown.

“I need to come,” Martin whimpered. Arousal seemed to have pushed away his inhibitions, and Glen’s excitement increased. It would be easy now. When he got them to this point, they would usually let him do anything.

“Would you like me to make you come, Martin?”

“Yes,” Martin whispered.

“Turn onto your back, with your bum close to the end of the table.” Glen quickly withdrew his fingers and released Martin’s cock. Martin turned over without hesitation. His cock slapped against his belly and smeared pre-come onto his skin as he lay down. He shuffled toward the end of the table, pulled his knees up and placed his feet as far apart as he could manage, without being told what to do.

Glen moved between Martin’s knees and bent over. He extended his tongue and ran it along Martin’s shaft, from base to tip. Martin moaned and swore under his breath. Glen captured the head of Martin’s cock in his mouth, and thrust his fingers back into the tight, slick hole. Glen’s left hand was free to unzip his trousers at last and pull his aching erection free of his underwear. Martin didn’t even notice. He had his eyes closed and his head thrown back, his hips bucking slightly as Glen sucked him.

Glen gripped his own cock and began to stroke himself slowly. He was desperately aroused, and he didn’t want to rush it and end things too quickly. He concentrated on giving Martin as much pleasure as he could, with mouth and fingers—licking, sucking, thrusting, stretching. Martin’s cock pulsed in his mouth, and his ass grasped at his fingers. The first spurt of come hit the back of Glen’s throat, and he gulped and swallowed. His own cock twitched in his hand, and he gave up trying to make it last, and jerked himself harder. He sucked the last drops from Martin, released his cock and withdrew his fingers.

Martin opened his eyes and looked down, cheeks flushed. His eyes fixed on the rapid movement of Glen’s arm and he lifted his upper body from the table so that he could see. He made no attempt to cover himself or put his legs together as he stared unashamedly at the hand flying over Glen’s leaking cock.

Glen was close, and he tightened his grip. He dropped his eyes to Martin’s exposed hole, right in front of him. Pink and slightly stretched, it glistened with lube, and Glen imagined driving his cock into it, fucking Martin on the examination table and emptying deep inside him. He didn’t often go as far as fucking them, but he longed to do it with Martin. He stepped closer to the table, and the tip of his cock touched Martin’s warm skin, behind his balls. Glen watched as Martin’s spent cock twitched in response. The young man continued to stare avidly at Glen’s crotch, lips parted, chest still heaving from his own orgasm.

Glen edged forward another inch until he was pressed against the end of the table. His erection throbbed in his hand, and he reluctantly released it just long enough to grab the lube again and coat the palm of his hand. He resumed stroking himself, slicking his length in the cool substance and shuddering at the feel of it. Martin’s hole was just a couple of inches away, taunting him, but he knew he couldn’t take things any farther. It would take a lot more preparation and he was too close. He needed release.

Martin pushed himself up a little more, resting his hands behind him to support his weight. Martin’s cock slowly stiffened again as Glen stroked his own length against Martin’s. Glen bit hard into his lip to suppress the groans and dirty talk that threatened to burst out of him. He longed to be somewhere else, perhaps at his flat, pounding Martin into his mattress and telling Martin how hot and tight he was, and how desperate Glen was to come inside him.

“Mmm,” Martin hummed. He pushed his hips forward, and Glen thrust harder against him. He needed to feel more, and he released himself once again, just long enough to grasp Martin’s cock in his slick hand and press it firmly against his own. He gripped both shafts together and stroked them urgently, rubbing his thumb over the heads at the end of each upstroke. Martin groaned and hissed, letting out the sounds Glen wouldn’t let himself make. Strangely, he felt that expressing his pleasure verbally would have been stepping over the mark, more than what he was doing.

Heat flared in Glen’s groin and his spine tingled. He was seconds away, and he could feel that Martin was right with him, even after having come just minutes before. Young blood. Glen had been like that too when he was nineteen. He’d easily been able to manage four or five times in a day.

“Oh, God… I’m… gonna. …” Martin panted at that moment.

Glen gripped tighter and slowed his hand movements, his rhythm broken as he began to come. His cock pulsed in his hand, and as the first spurt shot from him onto Martin’s belly, the young patient joined him. Glen stroked them both through it, his hand becoming covered in their combined fluids. When Glen released them, Martin slumped backward onto the table, and let his legs slip down and dangle off the end.

Panting, Glen stepped away and grabbed tissues to wipe his hands and cock. He tucked himself away and zipped his fly; then took another handful of tissues to wipe the mess from Martin’s skin, and the residue of the lube from between his legs. Martin grinned and blushed. Glen disposed of the tissues and turned to face Martin again.

“I… um… I think you’re right. I like men.” The young man sat up again, and then slipped off the table onto shaky legs.

“What are you going to do about your girlfriend?” Glen asked.

“Well, I’m not going to have sex with her.” Martin chuckled and looked around him. “Can I get dressed now?”

“Of course.” Glen tried not to watch as Martin put his clothes on. “I hope the appointment has been helpful to you,” he said briskly, needing to re-establish professionalism.

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Wright.” Martin crouched to put his shoes on, and then straightened slowly. “Um… I’d better be going.”

“Very well.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Martin added. “In case you were wondering. I mean… I’m sure you’re not supposed to do… what you just did… with the patients.”

“Uh… no!” Glen laughed a little in relief. “I’m usually very careful. But I hope I was of help to you.”

“Oh, definitely.” Martin gave him a small smile and sidled to the door. “Bye.”

Glen nodded and watched the door close behind Martin. Then he stepped behind his desk and collapsed into his chair. He yanked his tie loose and rubbed a hand over his face. He decided to ditch the gym and go straight home. A shower and another good wank were in order. In the privacy of his own home he could moan and shout as much as he liked.

Glen tidied his desk and placed his hand over his computer mouse to shut the machine down. Just as he was about to hit the button, the machine
pinged
, indicating a new appointment had been booked. He decided to check it before he switched off, and opened up the calendar. The following Friday was highlighted, to show a new entry had been placed on that day. Glen clicked on it, feeling a sense of anticipation. Surely he wouldn’t be lucky enough for the appointment to be what he hoped it would be? But there it was. The last appointment had been booked for Martin Reynolds.

LOUISE LYONS comes from a family of writers. Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt wrote poems for the Church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand old age of eight, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the light of day until she discovered Fan Fiction in her late twenties.

Posting stories based on some of her favorite movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her take her writing “hobby” more seriously.

Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long distance. Some of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to make notes.

Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.

Louise Lyons can be found at:

Website:
http://louiselyonsauthor.wordpress.com/

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/louiselyonsauthor

Twitter:
www.twitter.com/louiselyons013