FILLING IN — Story by J. Melsna & Illustration by Michael Kirwan

Originally published in Mandate magazine - September, 1997

 

 

Pumped and Primed by a Leatherman Dentist

_____

 

Okay, I admit that one of the reasons for my choice of dentist is the chance to sit there looking at this very attractive guy. Fair-complexioned with bright red hair, he keeps himself in terrific shape, with a build his professional outfits do nothing to conceal. So, I keep going to him, instead of buying into the cheaper company plan.

 

I'd always wondered if he were straight or gay — but I'm like that with every good-looking man I meet. We really hit it off from my very first examination, and soon passed from “mister” and “doctor” to “Jeff' and “Patrick.” (I couldn't quite manage “Pat,” even though he asked for it).

 

The glimpses I got of his basket as he cleaned my teeth were tantalizing, lots of straight men are well-hung, too (which is such a waste of good meat). He wore no wedding band, nor any other jewelry that I could see. Still, under the circumstances, short of asking him point-blank, I couldn't think of any way of finding out.

 

The last time I visited, we made our usual chit-chat. Then, I explained the problem with my tooth, and he led me into the treatment room. “Nothing major,” he assured me. “It won't take but a few minutes.” I heard him let the receptionist out — I was the last patient of the day — and lock the office door.

 

Patrick helped me into the chair and draped a protective plastic sheet over my clothes. I sat back and listened to piped-in music and he adjusted the position of the chair, prepared to poke around in my mouth, then gave me a lungful of nitrous oxide, so-called “laughing gas.”

 

I never felt less like laughing. I don't know why, but the gas had the odd effect of making me very horny. Sitting as I was gave me an excellent view of my dentist's cock and balls-he wasn't wearing any underwear, so his treasures were dangling loose and heavy in those snug-fitting white pants.

 

Although I had previously regarded Patrick with only curiosity, I suddenly found myself getting very much turned on by him. As he leaned over me, I felt my cock extending itself along my leg with each beat of my heart.

 

Patrick turned away to pick up the little tube he used to vacuum the inside of my mouth. When he swung back, his one leg was in between mine. I moved my hand up and down in time to the music, just the tips of my fingers “accidentally” brushing against the hardness in his pants. Sure enough, it slowly began to get bigger.

 

His voice was casual as he hummed along with the music, but I could feel him getting harder bit by bit. After a while, I took a real chance and pressed my palm flat against his crotch, feeling the heat of his dick, now almost fully erect. It was a whopper, all right, with an unusually big head. He suddenly put down his tools and I pulled my hand away, ready to make an apology if I had to. He merely unzipped his fly and returned to his work.

 

I reached in and pulled out his stiffer, thick and uncut, using both my hands to stroke him up and down. Patrick's cock was pale in color, with lots of veins, the huge dome a ruddy pink where it blossomed from its foreskin. He never said a word, but his breathing changed as I milked him, and he kept expanding until his shaft was nearly as wide as its head.

 

He gave me a little cup of water to rinse my mouth, and I bent over the basin to spit it out. Then, I circled the base of his cock , with my fingers, opened wide, and slid his dick between my lips. He smelled a little of sweat after a day's work, and tasted salty.

 

Abandoning any pretense of work, Patrick put his hands over the top of the chair and closed his eyes. I made my way from the puffed-out head down to the tangle of red hair sticking out of his zipper, and then back up again, working on that thickening rod until my jaw started to hurt.

 

After rubbing my hands together to warm them, I slid my fingers into his fly to pry his balls out into the open. I rolled them back and forth, maneuvering them into position, enjoying their weight and size. They were so big I thought I wasn't going to be able to get both of them out. I heard Patrick's hissing intake of breath when I caught one of his pubes in the zipper.

 

Finally, I had them both exposed, almost the size of lemons, and I licked at them eagerly. I fondled his nuts with my tongue-the taste and scent of sweat was stronger in his crotch hair-while my hands worked up and down his hard flat midsection.

 

 Patrick handed me a leather cock ring, stroking his still growing meat to an incredible hardness as I pulled it tight and fastened it around the base. Slightly curved now, the first traces of pre-cum oozing from the piss-slit, it looked like one of the biggest dicks I'd ever seen.

 

He responded to my ministrations with a series of gasps and grunts that gradually developed into a continuous hum of pleasure, to the point that I could no longer hear the music at all, but only the sounds we were making. He moved one hand down to fiddle with my hair, but then braced himself with it again as I did another dive onto his leaking joint.

 

When I let go, he reached down and yanked away the bib, opening the buttons on my shirt. With that little suction wand, he worked first one of my nipples, then the other, teasing them up and away from my smooth chest. I could feel them stretching out to full extension, hardening with excitement.

 

His other hand was on my dick, squeezing and tugging it through my half-open zipper. Finally, he turned off the vacuum; I could feel my pecs tingling as I slipped off my pants. My fat cock sprang free, throbbing like it was gonna explode.

 

He finally opened the front of his shirt then. He was very hairy, with soft red curls covering his torso, except for the huge pink circles that capped his massive pecs, with small, erect nipples in their centers. I could see the ripple of muscle in his trim stomach as he moved.

 

Leaning forward, I flicked my tongue over his nipples, teasing them erect, as he played with my cock some more. My hands traced the muscles in his sides as they spread out from his narrow hips to meet his broad shoulders.

 

Pushing the tip of my tongue deep into his navel, I undid the fastener at his waist and worked his pants down his legs to the floor. I pressed my fingers against the big muscles in his thighs, testing their strength. I'd looked him over plenty of times in his clothes, so I knew he was hot. But stripped, his body was better than I had ever imagined.

 

“God, Patrick, you've got a great body. You ever think of competing?”

 

“Sure... I almost did in college,” he said, running his fingers through the fur on his chest, “but it would have meant shaving my body, and I just couldn't do that. I still work out two or three times a week after I close the office.” Tossing his shirt aside, he struck a pose, his chest and arms bulging with power. Watching him flex, I couldn't keep my hands off myself, twisting my tender nubs and skinning my cock.

 

Patrick went over to open what looked like a small supply closet, and I could hear him kicking off his shoes into it. When he stepped out again, he was fully decked in leather-his pees looked even bigger now, framed by the two wide bands crossing his torso, and his legs were like mighty black tree trunks rising from his glossy boots.

 

He came back to the chair and bent over me, prying my hand away and replacing it with his mouth. I used to think I was too big for any man to swallow whole, but he slurped down on it like it was nothing until his lips met at the base.

 

My hands locked around his neck while his tongue did such incredible things to me that my balls felt like they were going to explode. There was no way I could keep still in that chair, writhing and squirming until I was so close to blasting that I had to make him stop. “Patrick, please,” I begged him. “I don't want to cum this fast.... “

 

“Please what?” he mumbled, with my one ball in his mouth.

 

“Oh, god, please… SIR! You've got me so charged up.... “

 

He opened his mouth almost reluctantly, flexing one powerful arm as if to remind me who was in charge. I kissed him right on the peak of his bicep, then shoved my face into his armpit to lick the sweat away.

 

While my attention was occupied there, Patrick greased my rod with something, then guided it into what looked like a glass tube. As he pressed it down against my balls, he attached the suction gadget to the end of it, and I could feel it drawing at my cock. There was a stinging sensation as my tool slowly began to get even bigger than before, filling the cylinder by slow degrees.

 

“Have you ever had your cock pumped?” he asked.

 

“Never, Sir,” I admitted. “It feels so fucking hot.”

 

As great as Patrick's blowjob had been, no one's mouth had ever made my shaft feel the way that tube did. My pole had to be an inch or more longer before he clicked the valve and removed the suction hose.

 

While he'd been pumping me up, I had resumed working on his cock by hand, stroking it from head to bush and back again. I slicked the juice that continuously flowed from his slit onto my palm, and it made my fingers fly along the length of him.

 

Suddenly, his breathing went raspy and his cock got extra hard. Then the cum just gushed out of him, hot and thick, spattering on my chest and stomach, seven or eight shots while he grunted again and again.

 

By now I wanted to cum, too. My new master was so eager to continue that he really hadn't gone soft in spite of his huge ejaculation. Instead, he picked up a rubber, tore open the foil packet and let me unroll it onto his pulsing joystick.

 

“Where' d that come from?” I asked, surprised. “I never saw that on the table, or this cylinder either.”

 

“I've got a special drawer on this side,” he chuckled. “I don't keep everything out where people can see it. Maybe another time, I'll show you some more of what I keep in there.”

 

He took more lubricant and covered himself and me with it. Wondering what else might be in his secret cache, I let him change my position in the chair, pulling my legs apart and lifting up my ass to put it on a level with his rod.

 

Patrick played with my pump-enlarged cock, licking at the tube and opening the valve. He let my dick slide out, held it against his and stroked them together — even pumped, I wasn't as big as he was, now massively erect, again.

 

Then, he slapped me hard once on the ass and slipped himself inside me. I didn't get any further warning of his penetration, but I didn't need any; I wanted him in there. Like a drill boring through wood, his cock pressed its way into my guts, pushing aside everything in its path. Yet, this was no invasion — he moved more slowly than any man who'd ever slid into my back door, his unyielding hardness making him at once both confident and gentle. Still, there was so much of him that I couldn't help wincing.

 

He paused long enough to ask me, “You want some more nitrous?”

 

I scoffed, “Are you kidding? I want to feel every inch of you, Sir!”

 

The deeper he penetrated, the wider he seemed to get, opening me more and more to accommodate him as he went in. It was a great sensation to be so full of him, and I told him so, repeating his name over and over again.

 

“You think this is good, wait until I'm all in there,” he told me. “I’m gonna bust you open.”

 

Then, he made his final move into me, until his balls touched my cheeks. I gripped his hardness and held him still for a few moments, all but overwhelmed by the sheer size of him.

 

Then, he began to thrust in earnest. In and out in an irresistible rhythm, Patrick would pull away until only the enormous head of his cock remained within my stretched anal ring. Then, he would push back, deep into me, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, until I half expected to feel that mushroom tip coming up into my throat.

 

His biceps flexed into mounds on his arms as he hauled my body closer against his with each repeated lunge, and his chest swelled with each deep whoosh of breath. His body was incredibly powerful. and at one point I almost feared he would make good on his threat to break me in half.

 

I got a bit of a reprieve when he held me close to him and ground his cock inside me, twisting it into places no one had ever been. My hands clutched at the two melons that made up his ass, hard with muscle but soft with the hair that covered them. I did my damnedest to get a finger into the crack that separated them, but just then he decided to pick up the tempo again, and I lost my hold on his backside.

 

As he continued to fuck me, my hard-on kept pushing against his stomach, the head running through the fine curls of hair and rubbing against those rippling muscles. The sensation kept me on the brink all the while he took his pleasure in my ass.

 

Faster and faster he shoved in and out until I clung to the arms of the chair to stay in place. The sweat was pouring off him now, dripping onto me, flicking into the air every time he shook his head. As he neared his climax, his balls hiked up snugly into their sac, and his dick swelled even larger, so thick that I didn't know how he still fit inside me.

 

“I’m gonna cum again... gonna cum real soon,” he groaned. Moving my hands over his torso, I found every muscle tense and expectant.

 

“Let me see, Patrick,” I begged.

 

He stepped back enough to pull out of me and I got the rubber off him, throwing it into a basket nearby. I jerked him one-handed, applying the other to my own rigid shaft. Then, he came, and I could feel the spunk making its way through the piece of flesh in my hand. His second orgasm was almost as big as the first, shooting onto my body in one sticky glob after another.

 

I cheered him on: “Oh, yes, Sir! Shoot that big fucking load all over me!”

 

My own ejaculation followed right after, his climax the final trigger of mine. My balls erupted jets of cream, pumping wildly out of my cock, onto me, onto him, onto the floor.

 

We cleaned ourselves up then so Patrick could finish the work in my mouth. I made sure that he put another appointment in the book for me before I left. Although periodic check-ups are very important, I plan to be getting regular fillings from my dentist. 

 

THE  END

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They may not be: redistributed; sold; altered; enhanced; modified by artificial, digital or computer imaging;
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