The Proctologist

A little while ago, I suffered a small "accident" while recording content for my channel. I ended up having a trauma to my ass that generated an annoying thrombosis at the entrance of my hole, which left me dealing with a nagging discomfort for a good while. I couldn't be penetrated anymore; the few times I tried, the pain was intense. After insisting on ointments and other home remedies without success, I decided to book an appointment with a specialist.

I already knew Dr. Oswaldo Daher from other occasions. He is a very experienced coloproctologist here in town: 64 years old, 6'0" (1.83m), and over 220 lbs (100 kg). The extra weight gives him a prominent and very attractive belly. He is a strong man, quite bald, sporting only a few gray hairs on the sides of his head and a bushy mustache in the same color. His light brown eyes are striking and hold your gaze without looking away for a single moment. He has a deep, firm voice, the kind that conveys total confidence in every word. He always wears a white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, through which a tuft of silver hair escapes, covered by an impeccable lab coat with his name embroidered on the pocket.

He is the kind of man that, in any other situation, I would have hit on blatantly. However, the exemplary professionalism with which he treated me as a patient kept me from attempting any approach. But none of that stopped me from imagining myself in bed with that bear in my fantasies, covered by his heavy, hairy body.

I called his secretary and booked the last appointment of the day. I arrived a little late and apologized, explaining that it's always tricky to close the shop in the middle of the afternoon. She smiled and said it was no problem, as the routine at the clinic was very quiet with few patients. She took my name, confirmed it in the system, and asked me to wait a few moments.

Not even five minutes passed before the doctor opened the office door, calling me in. I stood up and passed right next to him as I crossed the doorway, catching the subtle trail of a woody cologne, likely applied early in the morning. Before he could close the door, the secretary came to the room and confirmed that I was the last patient of the day. He thanked her and said she could pack up and leave. As the young woman left, the doctor explained that whenever he takes the last appointment, he makes a point of letting the staff go so he can close up the clinic himself.

I sat in a comfortable armchair in front of his spacious, impeccably organized desk. There were hardly any objects on the dark wooden surface: only the computer monitor stood out, along with a prescription pad aligned next to a pen and a picture frame with a photo of his wife and two daughters. As he rested his thick hands on the desk, the discreet shine of a gold wedding ring on his left ring finger caught my attention for a second. Right after, he looked into my eyes, greeted me by name, and asked in a curious tone what brought me there this time.

I've been his patient for several years. During my first consultation, I was still married to a woman. Dr. Oswaldo followed various phases of my life and had heard many of my secrets, including my transition and my current marriage to another man. He always proved to be extremely respectful, without ever showing any judgment. On the contrary, ever since the first time I mentioned my interest in anal penetration, he made a point of giving me valuable tips on care and health.

I started by explaining that for several days I had been feeling discomfort in the anal region every time I had a bowel movement. I told him I tried to get penetrated on two occasions, but the intense pain stopped me, and I mentioned noticing a small lump right at the entrance of my hole, which made me worried it might be hemorrhoids. Conversations with Dr. Oswaldo always flowed very easily. Besides having known each other for a long time, he rarely used cold medical jargon and preferred simpler, more welcoming terms. He always used the word "hole" (or affectionate diminutives) to refer to my anal area, which I thought was amazing because it completely broke the formality of the consultation, besides how cute and affectionate it was the way he spoke.

He listened to everything with extreme attention and, as soon as I finished explaining, invited me to the back of the room to examine me. He asked me to undress, and I did so without any hesitation. I confess that during all our consultations, I felt completely at ease taking my clothes off in front of that huge, graying, attractive bear. Unfortunately, the tension of the exam mixed with Dr. Oswaldo's flawless professionalism left me so stiff that I couldn't get aroused, remaining without any sign of an erection. My penis remained completely limp in front of the man I had fantasized about so many times.

There I was, totally naked in his presence. He looked into my eyes and asked me to lie on the examination table on my side, with my butt turned in his direction. While I got into position, he adjusted the light reflector, lined the table with paper towels, and, already wearing gloves, grabbed some lubricating gel to spread around my ass. He began softly massaging the bump I mentioned, evaluating the situation while explaining what he thought it was.

After analyzing it carefully for a few moments, he gave me a heads-up that he would take the opportunity to examine my prostate. He asked me to relax as much as possible and, with his index finger, slowly penetrated me, no more than half a finger deep. I felt the subtle, careful entry until the tip lightly touched my prostate, but to my complete frustration, the exam didn't even last fifteen seconds before he pulled out. He stood up, let me know I could get down and put my clothes back on, and extended his hand, pressing firmly against my butt to catch me when I almost lost my balance. I just got up, and before I could notice him nearby, he was already in the bathroom washing his hands and taking off his gloves, giving me total privacy to get dressed calmly.

We returned to the main part of the room. He settled into his desk chair, and I sat in the armchair. Then, he reassured me by saying it wasn't a hemorrhoid, but rather a small thrombosis in a vein in that region. He explained that a mild trauma must have caused the blood vessel to rupture, and the blood, instead of being expelled, got trapped, forming the bump. He commented that this is quite common and, since I mentioned I hadn't been penetrated in a while, added that it rarely happens during the act itself, although he couldn't rule out the possibility if sex happened abruptly and without enough lube. The doctor clarified that this type of thrombosis is usually more related to diet and stool consistency, as passing very hard stool can cause that kind of trauma from straining.

He made a point of emphasizing that the treatment was simple, although it would take a few days for the lump to disappear completely. He said he could even puncture the blood bubble to drain it immediately, but it was preferable to let the body absorb it naturally, avoiding the risk of infection in an area naturally subject to bacteria. He prescribed Proctyl suppositories morning and night before bed for ten days, along with an oral medication to improve circulation and guidelines for a diet rich in fiber and fruits to ensure soft stool for easier bowel movements. He asked me to return after that period for a re-evaluation and suggested waiting a few more days before having sex again, avoiding the risk of rupturing the lesion and causing bleeding.

Despite his comforting words, I was still tense about the idea of having complications with anal sex in the future. I showed that concern, and he patiently asked me to stay calm, assuring me that I would soon be back to my routine with zero problems. He wrapped up the conversation guaranteeing that in less than fifteen days, my ass would be perfect again. The smile on his face filled me with relief and trust. He knew better than anyone how to charm his patients.

I went home and started treatment immediately, feeling improvement within the first few days. After 10 days, the lump had practically disappeared. I booked the follow-up appointment feeling excited. And this time I was *really* excited; I didn't feel any pain anymore, and I was dying to show my healthy ass to the doctor and hear him say I could go back to taking dick. I called his secretary and set the appointment for the very next day. But before going to the appointment, I made sure to take a nice shower, wash my butt squeaky clean, and do a thorough douche; after all, you never know what might happen.

At the scheduled time, I was there for the last appointment of the day. The secretary confirmed my presence in the system and asked me to wait. Again, I didn't wait even 5 minutes before Dr. Oswaldo called me, and as usual, he dismissed his secretary, and I walked into his office. We were alone in the building.

I settled into the comfortable armchair, and the doctor immediately asked how things were with that naughty little ass. I thought the way he said it was super cute, laughed, and blurted out right away that it felt ready to take some dick. He let out a deep, genuine laugh mixed with the slight surprise of someone who didn't expect such spontaneity without warning. Then, he asked me to take off my clothes and lie on the table.

This time, however, the vibe was completely different. Without the previous pain and without the tension of the first visit, my mind had already fantasized about a thousand scenarios before I even crossed the office door. Expectation did the work of warming up my body: although I wasn't hard yet, my penis wasn't completely asleep either, taking on a noticeably larger volume. As soon as I undressed and turned toward him, it was impossible for him not to notice. His eyes dropped immediately to my groin in an involuntary impulse that betrayed his professional stance. Realizing his slip-up, he composed his expression in the blink of an eye and stared back at me, trying to hide the obvious curiosity that had just escaped.

I walked toward the table and lay on my side, leaving my butt turned toward the doctor. He repeated the initial procedure with the lube gel, slathering my hole and gently massaging the region while evaluating the healing. He commented in a calm tone that the lump was completely gone, but warned he would do an internal exam to confirm. He asked me to relax and, in an extremely slow and rhythmic manner, began the touch. His movements were careful, circular, advancing bit by bit into my ass until he examined the whole area.

Without the pain from the previous appointment and with the buildup of anticipation since I stepped into the clinic, the sensation triggered an inevitable reaction through my whole body. In little less than a minute, desire took over, and my erection became completely visible. When he finished the assessment and pulled out slowly, he asked me to get up and supported me again as I got down from the table. As I turned to face him, it was impossible to hide my state: my dick was rock hard. Silence filled the room for a brief, intense second, broken only when I tried to apologize for the embarrassment. Dr. Oswaldo, however, smirked and reassured me right away, explaining in his firm voice that it was a perfectly natural and expected physical response, since the sensitivity of that area responds directly to stimulation and pleasure, and since I was someone used to feeling pleasure there, it was no surprise that happened.

I got up and went to put my clothes on while Dr. Oswaldo, once again, headed to the bathroom to clean up and give me privacy. This time, though, I decided to linger a bit longer before getting dressed. I didn't want him to catch onto my intentions; I just waited quietly for his return.

When he came back into the room, he caught me right as I was finishing pulling up my shorts. I was still hard, and for a brief second, his eyes slipped down again before he recomposed himself and resumed his professional posture.

Without commenting on anything, he walked back to his desk. I finished getting dressed and sat back down in the armchair in front of him.

Then the doctor started explaining that everything was perfect and my ass was fully recovered. Without even giving me time to interrupt, he kept talking about what had likely caused the issue, the care I should maintain to avoid future complications, and the importance of keeping an eye on my diet and stool consistency.

Finally, he wrote a new prescription, explaining it was just to keep on hand in case a similar situation happened again. If it did, I could repeat the same procedure I followed this time.

I listened to him attentively, but I couldn't stop thinking about that brief second when our eyes met after the exam. It had been too quick to mean anything... but for me, it was enough to fuel the fantasy I had been carrying since long before that visit.

When the doctor finally paused, I took the opportunity to ask a few lighter questions related to the issue. I asked, for example, if I could keep eating hot peppers, since I've always loved spicy food.

He answered calmly that eating small amounts was fine, but reinforced that, like almost everything in life, excess could end up being harmful.

I asked a few more questions before finally asking the one I really cared about:

"And penetration? Am I cleared for it?"

He didn't even show any nervousness. With the same calm and professionalism as always, he explained that I could resume my activities as normal, provided I took basic precautions—mainly using plenty of lube and avoiding any situation that could cause new trauma.

That's when I slowly started steering the conversation down a different path.

I asked if there was any scar left, saying I was worried my ass might look different after all that. I made up some worries about marks, appearance, and even asked if he thought that area might look ugly after the issue.

He reassured me immediately.

He said everything was perfect, there were no concerning marks, and the recovery had been excellent. Then, almost casually, he ended his explanation with a line that caught me completely off guard:

"Your little hole is beautiful and perfect."

It was the exact cue I needed.

With a playful smile, I decided to take a chance:

"Doctor... if you were into that kind of thing, would you eat an ass like mine?"

He didn't even have to think.

He looked straight at me and answered, with the most natural tone in the world:

"A beautiful, pink hole like that? Of course I would."

For a few seconds, I was completely speechless.

That answer, delivered with such confidence and ease, made my heart race. Everything that had been strictly in the realm of my fantasies until then seemed to take on a new, unexpected possibility.

Immediately after saying it, we both laughed at the situation. I, however, didn't want to let that opportunity slip away. There was something in his answer that had completely shifted the tone of the conversation, and I decided to keep flirting, trying to find out how far that apparent professional composure could be pushed.

I looked at him with a mischievous smile and asked:

"With all your experience in the field, you must know exactly how to do it without hurting, right?"

He answered with an almost unsettling naturalness, immediately trying to pull the conversation back to professional ground:

"Yes. I've seen a lot of hurt asses around here. You have to know exactly how to examine them so as not to cause pain or discomfort to the patients."

The answer came with that firm, confident tone he used during consultations. It was obvious he was trying to put some distance between us again, as if to remind himself—and maybe me—that he was still the doctor sitting in front of the patient.

And thinking about it, it was completely understandable.

With so many years of experience in his profession and over two decades practicing in that same spot, he hadn't built his reputation by crossing boundaries with patients. On the contrary: all the respect I had for him came precisely from that secure, serious, and extremely professional demeanor.

But I still held out hope of finding a crack in that wall.

Instead of backing down, I decided to be even more direct. I took a deep breath and asked, without any shame:

"But doctor... have you ever eaten an ass before?"

This time, I finally caught him off guard.

I noticed the exact moment he swallowed hard. His eyes stayed on me for a few seconds, as if he were carefully deciding how to answer. Then, he looked away and answered as simply as possible:

"Yes. A few times."

The answer hung between us, leaving the room submerged in a strange silence.

He suddenly seemed interested in anything on his desk. He messed with the computer, checked something on the screen, and adjusted a few objects for no apparent reason. I recognized that behavior: it was like he was looking for a way to discreetly wrap up the topic before the conversation went any further.

But I had already come too far to simply change the subject.

I needed to act before that moment vanished.

I looked at him again and, with the most innocent face I could pull off, tossed out another question:

"And is your dick really big?"

This time, his reaction was even more obvious.

His eyes widened, and he stared at me for a moment, clearly surprised by my lack of hesitation. A faint blush appeared on his face before he regained his composure.

Then he answered with an almost funny modesty:

"Not at all... it's pretty average."

That answer only fueled my curiosity.

He had answered. He hadn't gotten angry, hadn't ended the appointment, hadn't told me to stop. He was still there, trying to maintain neutrality while I pushed further and further.

I smiled discreetly.

Then, after a few seconds that felt much longer than they actually were, I decided to gamble everything on one last question.

I leaned forward a bit, keeping my eyes locked on his, and asked:

"Can I see it?"

For a few seconds, he just stared at me.

The question seemed to have finally shattered the last layer of security he had been trying to hold onto since the start of the conversation. His eyes remained locked on mine while a look of surprise slowly washed over his face.

He opened his mouth as if to answer immediately, but gave up. He took a deep breath, looked away for a second, and ran his hand over his chin, visibly trying to decide how to react to such boldness.

The silence that followed felt much bigger than it really was.

Then he let out a short laugh, more nervous than amused, and looked back at me.

"You really have no shame at all, do you?"

I smiled, without backing down.

"You're the one who said it was average. I got curious."

He shook his head, still with that subtle smile on his face. For a moment, he seemed torn between calling out my boldness and simply playing along.

"Did you come here for a consultation or to interview me?"

"I think I started out coming because of my ass," I replied, keeping the smile. "The rest just happened naturally."

This time, he laughed for real.

The tension didn't vanish, but there was something different in the look he gave me after that laugh—a slightly longer pause, a hesitation that wasn't there at the beginning of the visit.

And it was that tiny hesitation that made me realize that, for the first time, I might have actually caught him off guard for real.

I reinforced my request, determined to break through that final wall once and for all while taking advantage of the doubt that had clearly surfaced in him about showing it or not.

He then leaned back in his chair, resting one arm on the desk. He spent a few seconds staring fixedly at the wooden surface, thoughtful, as if carefully weighing what to do next. I remained silent, watching his every subtle movement, trying not to show how anxious that wait was making me.

After a few moments, he finally raised his eyes and looked back at me. A subtle smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head slowly, like someone who still couldn't believe the situation he had gotten himself into, stood up from his chair, and walked toward the door.

At that moment, my stomach dropped.

I thought I had gone too far. Maybe he had decided to end the consultation, ask me to leave, and put a full stop to that conversation before it crossed any line. For a few seconds, I was sure I had blown my chance.

But the surprise came right after.

When he reached the door, he reached for the lock and turned the key, locking it from the inside. Then he quietly checked if it was securely locked and stood there for a moment before turning back to me.

I kept watching him, not knowing exactly what to think.

It was just the two of us in that empty building, and yet he had just guaranteed a level of privacy that, until a few seconds prior, didn't even seem necessary.

He then walked slowly in my direction without saying a single word.

In that instant, I was certain he had finally understood my intentions. It was no longer about simple curiosity, and we both knew it. After so many looks, teases, and increasingly bold questions, he seemed to have decided to embrace that moment I had imagined so many times.

I remained seated in the armchair, tracking his every step.

When he got right up close to me, Dr. Oswaldo unbuttoned his lab coat and pulled it back. My head, which had been tilted back while holding his gaze, slowly lowered, following his movements.

The first thing that caught my attention was that huge, soft belly, which seemed to take up even more space as he stepped closer. His dress shirt was stretched over it, almost defying the buttons, and between some of the gaps, you could see small gray hairs escaping the fabric, revealing the thick body hair of that man.

Then he unbuckled his leather belt.

The sound of the buckle felt so much louder in that silence.

Next, he unbuttoned his black dress pants and unzipped them. I watched everything without being able to look away, trying to store every detail of that moment in my memory.

When he unfastened his pants, they slid slowly down his thick, hairy thighs, revealing white boxer briefs. His shirt still hid a good portion of his body, but shortly after, he pulled it up, exposing that big, hairy, graying belly I had imagined so many times.

The modest bulge inside his boxers confirmed his modesty, showing it really wasn't that big. However, his balls—now *they* made a impressive bulge under the white fabric, with his testicles clustered to one side of the boxers.

He then began pulling his underwear down, and my heart felt like it was going to leap out of my mouth. The urge was to pounce all at once, but I contained my excitement and waited for him to guide the moment his own way.

Gradually, the tuft of white pubic hair revealed itself before my eyes. It wasn't trimmed; it was naturally long, exactly as I imagined the coat of a bear of that magnitude should be.

Then, the flaccid shaft of his dick revealed itself, finally fully exposed. The head remained completely covered by the foreskin. The girth matched what he had mentioned—medium-sized. It was completely limp, a total "shower," a nice member hanging down, while his balls still remained partially protected by the white fabric.

I admired the scene for a few moments out of respect for Dr. Oswaldo, without touching his sleeping dick. Then I raised my head, noticed him staring intently at me, and asked:

"Can I touch it?"

He simply nodded. I returned my gaze to his dick and wrapped my right hand around it. It was very warm, soft, and felt amazing to hold; despite still being limp, it had a good size and filled my palm. With my left hand, I decided to be bold and pulled his underwear all the way down, finally revealing the size of his scrotum: his testicles were large—or rather, huge—hanging low, hairy, and graying. I started massaging them tenderly, noticing they barely fit in my hand.

In no time, I felt his cock grow and gain volume under my touch. I pulled the foreskin back, revealing a purplish head that contrasted perfectly with his light skin shaft. I looked back at the doctor and asked if I could kiss it. He just laughed, consenting. I brought my nose close to the tip to smell his masculinity: it had a natural, exciting scent, a true invitation to taste. I started with a light kiss on the tip and began taking him into my mouth slowly and gently. That start was enough to pull a deep sigh from the good doctor.

His dick kept growing. In a few moments, it was rock hard, swollen with pleasure, and to my surprise, it had practically doubled in size. It was definitely not as modest as Dr. Oswaldo had claimed.

I held his balls with my left hand and squeezed gently, just until the pressure pulled an uninhibited groan from him. I swallowed his cock eagerly, sucking vigorously, and the salty taste of his pre-cum spread over my tongue. My right hand made its way up his belly, feeling the density of his silver hair, and climbed until it reached his thick nipple, already hard with arousal. His chest was warm, rough under my palm, and every pinch made his belly contract. I caressed his hairy armpits, damp with sweat, perhaps from the nervousness of the situation.

The lab coat finally fell. The shirt came next, button by button, until it landed on the floor. I stopped for a second, my mouth drooling with man-honey, just to look at that bear, practically naked in front of me, smiling down at me, his chest bare, his breathing short. Then I went back to it. His dick throbbed against my tongue, and the pre-cum flowed thicker, mixing with my saliva; he was close to cumming. He then grabbed my head with both hands, pulling me back, freeing his cock from my mouth, and his voice came low:

"Didn't you want me to eat your ass?"

His question was an invitation. I stood up immediately and started taking off my clothes. Dr. Oswaldo told me to lie on the table in the same position as the exam earlier. He finished stripping off his underwear and pants—the last pieces—and approached my open, vulnerable, surrendered butt. This time, without gloves, he spread plenty of lube over my hole. His fingers made slow circles while he explained in a low voice how he would enter carefully so as not to hurt me.

I felt his finger again, just like in the exam, but this time, without any rush. It went all the way in and massaged the back, right on the spot he already knew drove me crazy with lust. It didn't take long: a second finger forced its way in, with a brief, bearable sting. The third slid in easier, yet still wrung a loud groan out of me. My dick hurt from how hard it was—it felt like stone, dripping pre-cum and soaking the paper on the table. He stopped. He waited. Only when my breathing slowed down did he pull his fingers out, one by one.

What came next was hotter and thicker. Dr. Oswaldo rubbed the big head of his dick in the lube, smearing it slowly over my folds, and repeated that this time was for my body to yield. I felt my ass try to clench around that pole. I moved my hips, pushing my butt back against him, no longer ashamed to beg for it. He knew. He waited until my groans turned into pleas.

His hands rested on my butt. In a firm, continuous movement, he started entering. It wasn't just the head: he sank his entire cock in, inch by inch, slowly, but without stopping. Pain and pleasure mixed; I groaned softly, and he told me I could groan as loud as I wanted—nobody would hear us. I let go and trusted his rhythm. It didn't take long for the warmth of his hairy belly to press against my butt. He was all the way in.

He stayed still. His dick throbbed deep inside, stretching my folds, and I squeezed back, biting his cock with my ass, pulling a hoarse groan from him.

Dr. Oswaldo knew what he was doing. He waited, motionless, until my hole yielded around his cock and the sting turned to warmth. Without warning, he began pulling out. He pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the head inside, and slammed back in all at once, deeper, harder. His body slapped against mine. I howled. I finally felt the weight of that man, his warm belly slapping my ass, his dick plowing through without asking permission. He repeated it. He pounded again. And again. And again. Now he was fucking me for real, at whatever pace he wanted. The sound of spanking filled the room, mixed with my groans and his deep, uninhibited roars. Dr. Oswaldo wasn't holding back. He yelled with lust every time he drove it all the way home.

It felt like he was going to cum. But with his entire dick buried in my ass, he stopped. In a abrupt motion, he grabbed my legs and pulled them up, almost pulling me off the table. My butt was right at the edge. He threw my legs over his shoulders, settled in, looked into my eyes, and flashed a dirty smile. He pulled back just enough to slip his hard, slimy cock out. He looked at my open, throbbing hole and said:

"It's definitely fully recovered."

Barely finishing the sentence, he aimed his cock at the entrance and slammed it in. I felt the head hit the deep end and his body come right behind it, harder, deeper. Now it was my screams filling the room, along with the sound of his balls slapping against my butt. Dr. Oswaldo was fucking my ass mercilessly, holding my legs tight, eyes closed, mouth open, enjoying every single inch of that stretched hole, and he stayed like that for several minutes. Long, intense minutes.

My legs were going numb, and my ass was starting to burn. I tried to pull my legs off his shoulders. Dr. Oswaldo grabbed both, lowered them, and his cock slipped out all at once. The relief lasted a second. He didn't give me time to recover. He pulled me off the table, turned me around, my chest pressed against the padding, my butt arched high for him. He pulled my arms back, folded them over my spine, and pinned me down. He slotted his thick log back into my already open, swollen, foldless ass. The care from before was gone. He only wanted his own pleasure now. He went back to pounding. My dick and balls slapped against the edge of the table with every stroke from the bear. My ass was so drenched in lube and slick that the wet sound filled the room louder than any groan. Neither he nor I were groaning anymore. We were waiting for the finish. And I knew it would only end when Dr. Oswaldo flooded my ass with the milk he'd been saving up for days.

The sound of his hard thrusting began to compete with Dr. Oswaldo's groans. Quiet at first, they grew louder. I felt his cock swell thicker and my ass give way a bit more around it. The strokes got firmer, and the burning sensation returned. He let go of my arms to grab my ass. His fingers dug into my flesh. With every slam, a deep, hoarse roar escaped him. The intensity peaked, and the burning in my ass came right with it. I started groaning along with him. It was another 10 minutes of raw penetration; I had no idea where a man of his size and age got that kind of stamina. Then he exploded. A deafening roar. He came deep, and every spurt came with a vigorous thrust, as if he wanted to split me in half. He shot his milk as deep as he could, looking like he wanted to breed me, filling my ass until there wasn't room for a single drop to escape. His dick throbbed inside me. I counted at least six thick jets. That man, married for a long time, hadn't experienced an ass like that in ages—maybe not even a pussy. His satisfaction was mine too. There's no greater pleasure than giving pleasure to another man.

We stayed joined together for a while. I squeezed his cock lightly with my ass, and he chuckled softly. We were relaxed. The yells from moments before had given way to both of us catching our breath. Dr. Oswaldo rested his heavy, sedentary body against mine, in no rush to pull out. Gradually, I felt his cock soften until it slipped out on its own. He stepped back. I turned around to admire him. I spent a considerable amount of time taking in that perfect view. The bear was satisfied, exhausted, dripping with sweat, his dick still half-hard, messy, and dripping cum. It was my duty to clean that cock. I approached slowly, knelt before that god, and took his dick into my mouth. I sucked out the last few drops, tasting the sweet flavor of that man, while I received his reward: his large, heavy hands gently stroking my head. I squeezed his soft dick and pulled out one last drop. He laughed:

"You really enjoyed that, didn't you?"

He then reached for a box of wet wipes and offered them to me so I could clean myself up. He went to the bathroom in the back, and I followed him. He rested his dick and balls over a sink and started washing his penis. I watched with admiration. A beautiful sight. He noticed me watching and didn't say anything, just smiled. We finished cleaning up and went to get dressed.

He sat at his desk, grabbed a water from the mini-fridge, and offered me one. We chatted for a bit. He said it had been a long time since he felt an ass and, to my surprise, revealed he had never been with a man before. I feigned wonder. I couldn't believe that performance was from a first-timer. He seemed to notice. He explained that the way I led the conversation, the trust built over years as his patient, the fact that I was also married, and his long drought without sex had made him give in. He made it clear, however, that he wouldn't repeat it. It hadn't been ethical. I agreed. I apologized for hitting on him like that. He told me not to worry: despite everything, it had been great. I thanked him for the consultation and the fuck, and we said our goodbyes. I tried to give him a quick peck on the lips. He refused. I understood and didn't get upset.

I left the clinic with my body still marked: my ass burning, his taste still in my mouth. Outside his room, the air conditioning chilled the sweat on the back of my neck. Dr. Oswaldo didn't come to the door. Behind me, the lock turned, and the dry click made clear what the refused kiss had already signaled. It ended right there. Walking out of the clinic, I felt his warm milk slowly leaking down under my underwear. I smiled to myself. We wouldn't do it again. But I wasn't going to forget it either.