Doctor of Gay Sex

By Jay Roberts

Published on Aug 27, 2010

Gay

++++First off, under 18 years olds now here are definitely

DIS-invited. As to the rest, please understand that

I am not a physician, a physiologist, or a sexologist.

The information given in this story is not claimed to be

Medically accurate. The story is for entertainment only.

No use one of you professionals writing and telling me

that I am all wet. It's probably true.

Hey, hold out your hand and give me a high five, at least in make believe. You'd probably like me. I'm Chester (Chet) a tall rangy, skinny kid of twenty two. I'm appealing in a goofy sort of way with my tumbling waves of carrot red hair and medium brown eyes. Some guys admire my eyebrows. They're thick and straight without any attention on my part. How about those eyelashes, thick top and bottom and sometimes entangle. But you have to forgive my oversized nose, but the lips underneath aren't bad, they're red and full. I have good teeth and a smile that lights up the world.

Wouldn't you think that the world especially the male part--I am interested in- would beat a path to my, er, crotch? They don't, and it's probably my fault. I am desperately shy and also a little over fastidious in my sexual tastes.

Each day I take the Long Island Railroad traveling from Manhasset to Penn Station to my new job as a stock analyst. I've had the job for only two weeks but I like it, and they seem satisfied with me. I got the job through the recruiter who came to New York University. In this bad job market, getting a bid to apply was short of a miracle. Or was it that he was gay, and saw something in me that he hoped to cultivate.

But to get to the moment, I sat in one of the older rail cars that has upper and lower seating. I am in the lower part. I am riding backwards which I always hate. It makes me a bit nauseated.

One of the drawbacks to this seating arrangement is that the passenger on the opposite seat's knees are in the way. You have to sort of alternate leg positions, especially if your tall (6'3") like me.

Today, luckily, there are only two of us in this cramped space. Strangely the guy who got on at the stop after Manhasset, namely Great Neck, decided to sit opposite me.

I studiously read my Wall Street Journal, but I was aware of a faint odor of delicious cologne. I lifted the paper slightly (it covered my eyes) and studied the lower part of the guy. I was looking at seersucker clad legs spread slightly. At the center of the "V" his crotches' contents were very expressed. A long penis snaked down his thigh. It was flexing slightly and he put a suntanned hand over it to quiet the beast. Nice hands, I thought, and lovely manicure.

I slowly moved the paper and then turned an unread page. As I performed this maneuver, I got a full view of his upper body and face. The pants were complemented by matching jacket and the face above his crisp white shirt and regimental tie was perfect enough for him to be a model. I especially caught my breath over the pile of curly, dark brown hair. This hair coupled with his odd pale, almost colorless tan eyes gave him the look of one of those Greek statues without the modeling of the eyes.

I jumped as he smiled and spoke in a lilting baritone. "Are you busy this afternoon?"

Holy shit. He was reading my mind, but I hadn't got that far. I was actually thinking that I wish I knew him and could talk and even make a date.

He laughed at me. "I really scared you. Don't be scared, it's a compliment. You're an extremely attractive fellow. You have that intelligent look that is sexy."

I held out his warm, but dry hand and reached out and took mine that had been resting on my knee. "I'm Doctor Jim."

I allowed him to clasp my hand. This gave me time to look him over a bit. His features were what we used to call chiseled. The lines and modeling on that nose was perfection. His lips were full and pink. The center of his upper lip formed a perfect Cupid's Bow. I immediately wondered what it would be like to press my lips on his.

Now what was a doctor Jim? He could be a pastor, a college professor, or some medical speciality.

"Are you a medical doctor?"

He smiled showing his bright white, beautifully shaped teeth and then almost giggled. "No, I'm a doctor of sexology."

I immediately figured this was part of his pickup line, but I had fallen in lust with him. "I'm free at about six. Could we meet at Jeff's Bar, 59th and Lex?"

"I'm not fond of bars. How about coming up to my place. I am staying at the Imperial, As at the desk for Dr. James Manfredi."

The train plunged into a tunnel and soon screeched a stop and we were at the station. I have to run, I'm late for an appointment."

He rose quickly and darted into the crowd and left me feeling as if my lover had deserted.

He was in my thoughts and penis all day. I resisted wiping one off in the rest room. I wanted to be at peak for him for our date.

Now before you think I am a slut, you must know that I only had one lover and that was gay lite. Sam and I, all through junior high jerked off together and we tried oral sex. I was getting used to it. He only did it so that I'd do it to him. We haven't seen each other for five years. Once I saw him at the local movie house and he managed to avoid me and sit as far away as he could. He was with a girl.

I was able to walk to the Imperial, figuring it would be quicker than a taxi or public transportation at this rush hour. The door man smartly saluted me and held the door. I advanced to the reception desk. The dark suited young man with the pearl gray tie appraised me as I approached. "I have an appointment with Dr. James Manfredi. Could you ring his room and announce me?"

His lip curled and he was insolent enough to rake his eyes up and down my body. Had he "known" Dr. Jim or divined my appetites?

"You mean suite."

"Whatever." I was sick of this snob. It never fails that guys who make a fraction of your salary think they are hot shit because the work in a upper class environment.

Annoyingly he turned his back on me when he made the call. He seemed surprised, even disappointed as he turned to me and said, "He's expecting you."

"Of course," I said and asking the suite number, walked to the elevator.

Well this was some suite. The floor had only two of these large suites. Dr. Jim met me at the elevator. He was wearing tennis shorts, bare chested and bare feet. This lack of attire set the mood for intimacy, I thought.

He took my arm and pulled me into the suite. "A drink?"

"Sure, how about bourbon on the rocks with a shake of sweet vermouth."

"My drink too. Coming right up."

It was a humongous sized glass and the glass was 3/4 full. He drank it down like it was a Coke. I sipped mine. We chatted. Well, not really. He interrogated me as if he was filling out a medical form. Some of his questions were personal and surprising, especially when he got to the sex part.

"How often do you masturbate?" I cut my frequency in half and told him twice a week.

He smiled. My heart jumped. He licked his lips. I got hard.

"You're lying of course. Charming."

While I was about to protest, he quickly asked, "Are you a fast comer?"

Truthfully, I told him, "Sometimes."

He put his glass down. "I'll teach you how to delay orgasm so that when it comes, it will be mind shattering."

This was all too clinical for me. I wanted that guy. For the first time I was almost ready to crawl across the floor and pull down his shorts, over his muscled, smooth legs, maybe suck his toes but surely swallow his cock.

He was quiet now. I was surprised to see a flush on his well shaved cheeks. He stuttered and had trouble saying, "I know you want to suck my cock."

As an answer, I slid off the leather chair onto my backside and sidled over to him. I could hear him begin to breath noisily. Perhaps he wasn't as sophisticated as I had though.

Now at his feet, I grabbed the bottoms of his shorts and pulled them down. No underwear, the slut! His cock was circumcised and the large head was covered with a thick blob of precum. I could smell it. With a cry, I swallowed the whole thick, hot cock. I felt it hit the back of my throat. Although my eyes were tearing I sucked him hard, my head bobbing up and down. I was moaning in avid need to make him cum.

Suddenly I felt a firm hand pushing my chin up and away from my hot task.

"Stop a minute Chet."

I looked up at him. "You getting too hot, you want to delay it?"

"No sweet, I'm pretty far from spewing, but I wanted to tell you something and hope you will not be hurt."

"Yeah?" I said warily.

"Your energy, innocence and love of cock are very appealing. I love you twice as much as when I decided to seduce you. You're just a lover, but...."

"But what?"

"Now don't get mad, your technique can be improved. Guys with all skill and no feeling are a turn off. Guys with only feeling and little technique are easily improved."

"I only had one guy, years ago, when we were fourteen or so. He never complained."

"Of course not. At that age anything warm and hot can bring home the bacon. Later, one needs more than that."

I sat back on the chair. I know I must have looked crestfallen and maybe defensive. He spoke firmly to me. It was a surprise to hear that tone of voice coming from him. "Get undressed, I'll show you."

I did. My prick had lost most of its erection, but as he looked at it, I felt it firming up. He leaned forward and blew air at it. Not like whistling, but as if he said "Hah". I grunted slightly as my penis rose in uneven jumps to finally lay across my belly.

He picked it up and almost imperceptively stroked it. It was delicate, sweet and maddingly exciting. My emotions hung on that hand. Every so often, he swiped his thumb over my piss slit.

Finally, I couldn't stand more, hoarsely I said, "Please Jim, please suck me, I'm going crazy here."

He lifted my cock and slipped the head into his pursed lips and to my surprise did not make sucking efforts, instead he moved his lips rapidly over the head of my cock and his tongue swirled over that spot behind the head.

I gulped helplessly as electric feelings whipped up and down my spine. I wasn't about to ejaculate, but I was orgasming and moaning helplessly.

"Was that good for you. You orgasm so easily, you are lucky. I can give you another one and then you can cum this time. Would you like that?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

He went back to the same trick on my cock head. I could feel his mouth watering and surrounding my cock with hot soft moisture. I pushed forward and jiggled my hips, encouraging him to become more active.

He allowed me to slip out. "You want to shoot now? Tell me."

"Please," was all I could say.

His mouth was dripping and he slipped it over my cock and slowly moved down my shaft. Now his lips were at the base, my pubic hair must be tickling him. I realized that I was lightly moving my hips in a fuck motion and almost singing in my moans. He began a measured suck, up and down and with his finger in my ass crack he moved it up and down, stimulating my pucker.

I howled in pleasure. I sweated and drooled and finally I dimly heard him say, "It's okay laddie, let it rip."

I welcomed that permission and my body stiffened and I cried out in delicious agony as I shot hard, the stream must have hurt his throat, he swallowed rapidly bringing on three more heavy shots.

At last he sucked out the small amount of spooge left and sat back on his bare ass.

"Good huh?"

My breathing normalized gradually. "Jim, you are the genius of suck. That advanced course will make my future lovers very happy."

"Wait," he said, slipping on a robe, "That's only Sex 101. You want more?"

"Sure, but give me an hour to recover."

"You won't need that time. Let's proceed."

End Part One

Next: Chapter 2


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