I brushed my teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and popped a couple of breath mints into my mouth. As I strode out to the waiting room to usher him into one of the examining rooms, Mr. Forsythe glanced up at me. "Mr. Forsythe," I smiled back and shook his hand. "Shall we go back into the examining room?"
"No. I'm fine right here. Now, you sit right down here," he said, patting the seat of a plastic chair next to him. "I got something to say to you boys. Now, listen closely."
Chapter 5
Eric and I glanced at each other wondering what Mr. Forsythe had to say to us. My heart was pounding and my hands were clammy. I imagined and feared the worst.
"Now, Dr. Carson, I know you're gay. You've made no secret of that. And young Mr. Sorensen here must be also," the old man began. "I see it in your eyes, the way you look at each other. I know love when I see it. Effie and I had it, so I know what it looks like. Now, I've visited my grandson several times in Sacramento. We've gone out to dinner and shopping there; and each time we've gone out; he's helped me hone what you fellers call `gaydar'. I may not be accomplished as a natural would be, but I'm awfully good at it according to my grandson, Chet.
"As I see it, you got a problem now that the casts have come off. Everyone's going to assume you're a couple of gay men living together doing Lord knows what in this backwards place I've called home for nearly 93 years. I don't care what you do as long as you don't do it in the middle of the street at high noon. But, I'm not sure about the rest of the town. So, I have a proposition for you."
We glanced at each other again, seeing a spark of light in an otherwise catastrophic situation. I nodded, giving the old guy the go-ahead to make his proposal.
"I'm gonna be 93 soon, like I said," he resumed. "My health isn't what it used to be. In fact," he winked, "I need someone checking on me regularly to be sure I've not fallen or failed to take my medication."
"Are you having fainting spells or episodes of nausea or dizziness," I broke in very concerned.
"Hush!" he commanded and winked again. "I should probably be in an assisted living situation, but I don't wanna leave my house. So, I'm gonna suggest that you, Dr. Carson, move into my big house and live with me so you can monitor my health status. And because you'll be at the clinic for eight hours or more a day, I'll need coverage for those hours. That's where Mr. Sorensen comes in. Now during construction season I'll be spending my time at the Senior Center because the weather will be better and more of us old duffers will want to venture out and socialize. So, Eric will be covered while you're working Dr. Carson. Besides, living alone has threatened my health because I'm not eating right," he winked again.
I looked over at Eric. He was smiling broadly.
"You old fox!" Eric exclaimed. "How long have you known?"
"Oh, quite a while now, I guess," he smirked.
"Has anyone else mentioned anything to you about Eric and me?" I inquired.
"No one's said anything to me," Mr. Forsythe replied. "And very little town gossip gets by me."
"So, what's the charge?" I pressed.
"Nothing. In fact, I should be paying you for your medical skills on my behalf," he said. "Will you do it?"
"YES!" Eric exploded, answering for both of us. "Of course, we will. This is so generous of you, Mr. Forsythe."
"Call me John," he smiled. "When can you move? I've had two spells already today," he winked.
"You old fraud!" I laughed. "You really think we can pull this off?"
"Sure, why not?" he laughed with me.
"I'd have to fix your medical records to reflect your new condition," I mused. "That nurse has access to all the records and charts. I know she'll smell a rat if there was no mention of your status change. Once she figured out what was going on, the whole town would know. That kinda gossip is too good to keep. But, I can't falsify a record."
"Keep two records then," Eric suggested.
"It wouldn't stand up to any real investigation," I countered.
"What investigation?" John said. "Who cares enough to look?"
I shrugged. I couldn't think of a situation where it would matter, but I'd need to be very cautious. "When can we come over and check out the living situation?" I wondered.
"Tomorrow morning?" the old guy proposed.
"We'll call you," Eric confirmed.
Eric walked him home and waited for my shift to end. When I got back to my apartment, I had a list of questions to ask Eric about John Forsythe's house, how it was laid out, where we'd sleep, privacy concerns, etc. He answered all of them, but not as completely as I needed to assuage all of my worries. I'd just have to wait until tomorrow to get a more definitive look at our new home. After that, I'd give Mrs. Duncan her notice. Eric would have to do the same for his place.
"Young Mr. Sorensen," I smiled in the dark as I cuddled up next to Eric, "would you be kind enough to fuck the hell out of me right now?"
"Why, Dr. Carson!" he whispered back, "what a disgusting, thoroughly delicious idea!" he giggled. I should have known when he said "delicious" that my ass was going to get rimmed to within an inch of its black life. He ate my hole so good that when he finally mounted me, his curved 9" ass stretcher slid in without additional lube. We kissed and fucked for a good 15 minutes before I coaxed a hot load of jizz from his pounding dick. I made him leave it in me until it fell out flaccid and drained.
Near the end of our lovemaking, Eric had sucked me off. To be so flexible and well hung, yet manage to suck off the guy you were fucking made me jealous as hell. I'd always wondered what it would be like to be one's own "best friend".
When we got up the next morning, I fucked him in the shower and drained his hard dick of its dick gravy into my mouth. While I prepared breakfast, Eric called Mr. Forsythe to arrange a convenient time for us to come over. We agreed on 10 a.m.
The house was as big as it looked from the street. The décor was at least 40 if not 50 years old. Some of the furniture was newer, but the curtains and collectibles (dust catchers) were ancient. On the main floor in the front were a living room and parlor. On the left side was the dining room and behind that was a den that he'd converted into a bedroom, so he wouldn't have to climb stairs all the time. On the right behind the living room were a big bathroom and a large, country kitchen. Upstairs were four bedrooms and another large bathroom. The upstairs was sparsely furnished, but very livable. Eric and I could convert at least one of the bedrooms into a living room for us and not encroach on Mr. Forsythe's space downstairs. The only real shared space would be the kitchen and passage to the upstairs.
John Forsythe hardly ever used the parlor downstairs, so we decided that the bedroom above that would be ours. We weren't very quiet when we fucked, so that would help us to be slightly removed from anyone's hearing below.
"We love it," I pronounced after we'd had the grand tour and Eric and I had discussed it. "We'll take it, and help you with your, uh, medical condition, Mr. Forsythe. Eric is a great cook, so I'm sure he'll do a wonderful job with your, uh, special diet I need to put you on. But, I'll leave it to the two of you to decide what is best for timing and content, with some input from your doctor."
John cackled and rubbed his hands together. "This is gonna be fun," he laughed heartily. "And I could use the company, too."
We moved everything out of our apartments on Saturday. Eric and I gave notice to our respective landlords. Of course, both wanted to know what was going on. I told them with the most serious doctor face I could put on that John Forsythe wasn't as well as he should be. We'd agreed to live in his big house to help him out. So that there would be around-the-clock coverage, both of us were drafted. Other details they'd have to get from Mr. Forsythe. I needed to protect the confidentiality of his medical situation. But, if he wanted to blab it, that was up to him.
Of course, that news was all over town before we'd settled into our new home. The telephone was ringing off the hook. Two ladies stopped by to bring hot dishes. The minister and his wife prayed with him in the parlor while Eric and I moved in some of our last boxes. Whatever made them all happy was fine with me. John didn't tell them all of his medical problems, but he laid it on pretty thick about his diet issues, his spotty forgetfulness concerning his medications, and occasional dizziness that could land him in a heap without assistance.
Once more, we were praised for our kindness toward the old man. It was all we could do to keep from breaking up as they spouted their hot air. However, considering they didn't know any better, I should have had kinder thoughts about them. But, the new minister and his wife were very warm toward us, inviting us to church the next day. If they knew both of us were gay, they didn't seem to care. They certainly must have known I was gay. That tidbit had to have been shared by the gossip consortium of the town when they'd first arrived.
There wasn't much to move from the apartments to John's house, so we were finished by mid-afternoon. The wind had picked up with the threat of snow in the air. I'd already spent one winter in Nebraska, so I knew the obvious signs. We were in for a bad one. Snow began falling at twilight and continued through the night. Snow continued to blow through town when we got up the next morning. Finally about noon, the steady snow turned into flurries and cleared by evening. The thermometer plummeted. It was well below zero by Monday morning.
No one in John's household had made it to church. The weather was plain foul!
Eric did us proud. His meals were excellent, hearty and filling, but not scandalously high in fat or salt. The latter was something John didn't need anyway.
The county had plowed the main street on Monday morning, so we had no trouble going to the gym. John came along with us to set up the Senior Center for a community meeting that was to be held that evening. As I'd be working, I didn't attend. Eric and John did, though. It was more of a neighborhood meeting where people talked about crime in the streets (there wasn't any, but they'd seem some strangers in town), a suggested petition to the county commissioners to lower the speed limit in town from 35 to 30, and other mundane topics.
The nurse had left me a note that the Regional Medical Society had called (there were four of us, so it's hard to consider that a society). Dr. Henry (the old drunk) was retiring at the end of the year. Would I kindly call the University and request another new doctor to replace him? They'd be more than pleased to take in another one like me. I took that as a vote of confidence and left a note for the nurse that told her that I'd called and left a message with the administrator of the same grant program I was on. However, I doubted very much that they'd send another doctor. There were other, needier parts of Nebraska than our little corner. They'd have a coronary if they knew of my plans to leave, too.
Upon reflection, the good doctor's retirement would probably increase my patient load. That would mean more work for Eric as well. But, it would be difficult to gauge the movement of patients. Some of those rednecks would never go see a "queer nigger" doctor. But, others saw the County Health Department as "welfare", so they'd not go see my relief doctor at the clinic. That left only the third doctor who lived more than 100 miles away and was a first-class asshole. For the sake of convenience, he'd probably see few of the retiring doctor's patients. The old drunk was in the next town down the road (about 10 miles). I guess I'd just have to wait and see what happened.
The weather began warming by Wednesday, allowing most of the snow to melt from the roads. But, the roads were still icy at night and in the shaded patches.
Friday evening, my 6 p.m. appointment was not a young man I knew, nor did I recognize his family name. My earlier appointment was a short one, so I greeted him at the door when he walked in. I shook his hand, took some medical and personal information and led him into an examining room. He said he was there for a basketball physical. He was a tall, rangy kid, all arms and legs.
"What else can I do for you, Todd?" I asked after my cursory physical was done. He'd been nervous throughout the physical, more so than I'd expect from a teenager who played sports. It wasn't like he'd never disrobed in front of strangers.
"I need an HIV test, too," he blurted out with a blush.
Instantly my radar went up. This could be Sam's "boyfriend" I surmised. "Sure," I smiled warmly. "The results will be available within 20 minutes after I take some blood, and my next appointment isn't until 7. Would you like to stay and get the results or should I mail them to you?"
Panic registered instantly in his face. "Uh, no, I can wait," he stammered.
I drew some blood and set up the test while I asked more questions. His current family physician was the retiring drunk, so he said he thought he'd come over here and see what kind of doctor I was. For a 17 year old, he seemed pretty mature to think of that. However, he'd had a week to think about getting the test so he'd probably practiced his story.
"Any particular reason you think you should be getting the test?" I asked. He hadn't thought I'd ask that. He stammered, but couldn't come up with more than a deep crimson blush. "I'm asking for a reason, Todd," I continued. "Someone your age needs to know the facts about HIV, not what a well-intentioned teacher or your friends may have told you. If you don't get the facts without societal pressures, you'll never make good, sexual choices."
"Sam said you'd understand," he whined, then realized that he'd spilled the beans.
"Ah, yes I do, Todd," I assured him patting him on the shoulder. "As I told him, anything said in here is strictly confidential. In fact, I can't even admit that you had an HIV test in court, unless you agree to let me. And any conversation between doctor and patient is sacred. I'd never divulge any confidences you told me. Never."
He sighed. "You know then that Sam and I are, uh, intimate." I nodded. "We enjoy the sex a lot, although I'd like to go farther than we have." I smiled and nodded again, hoping he'd continue. He finally looked up at me. "Sam told me all the stuff you said to him about us and what we're doing in a straightforward way."
"We did," I confirmed. "Look, Todd, we're dancing around the point. I'll tell you anything you want to know, but let's stop this clinical terminology crap and get into it."
A smile skipped across his face. "He said you were real direct."
"That's how people understand each other," I smiled back at him. "Now, without breaking any confidences that Sam told me, I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions. I don't want you to feel embarrassed or intimidated by them. Just be truthful. It'll help me understand what's going on and I can guide you better into a safe future." He smiled and looked eager to jump in. "So, you have sex with another male, right?" He nodded. "Rather than ask 20 questions, why don't you tell me about it?" He blushed again.
"Uh, what do you want to know?"
"Just put it into your own words. Do you suck dick, swallow cum, rim, finger fuck, and ass fuck? Do you do the same thing all the time or do you switch off?" I asked.
"We, uh, do the same for each other, but not all the stuff you said," he blushed again.
"What don't you do, then?"
"We don't fuck ass," he grimaced. "It hurt too much when we tried it."
"You aren't just the top or just the bottom, then?"
"No, I'm on top sometimes and he's on top other times."
I smiled. "I'm using terminology you're not familiar with," I said softly. I gave him definitions for top and bottom as well as versatile in the gay sense.
"Oh, I guess that makes both of us versatile."
"Exclusive to each other, no one else you've ever been with?"
"Well, I have a girl friend, but she never puts out," he nearly snarled.
"I'm not trying to be judgmental here, Todd, but is she cover for what you really like sexually?"
He thought about it through another blush and nodded slowly. "Yeah, probably. But, I still get hard when I'm with her."
"At your age, you get hard because the wind changes direction," I laughed. He smiled and nodded knowingly.
"No other men or boys?"
He looked at his feet, not looking at me. I raised his chin and looked into his eyes. "Okay, tell me, Todd. It'll never go anywhere else."
"I've jacked with other guys on the team and my brothers," he finally admitted.
"Nothing more than jacking with each other, no dick to mouth action, cum swapping, etc.?"
"Gawd, NO!" he blustered on the verge of tears. "They'd never understand that. They'd know I was a fag!"
"Okay," I said soothingly. "No big deal. I'm only trying to assess your risk."
I let him cool off for a few seconds before I asked him how he felt about sex with Sam. His face lit up. "Yeah, that's good. He makes me feel desired, not just sexually, or as a friend, but much more. He told you that we've watched gay vids?" I nodded. "It looks so hot when they were fucking, they were so into it. We tried again with the condoms you gave Sam, but it still hurt."
"Well, something those vids don't show is how much preparation it takes. Nor do they tell you that these guys have been doing it a lot, so they're used to taking a big dick up the ass," I explained. Todd's dick was hard as steel now under his flimsy hospital garb. His manhood was a big one, too. No small wonder that they were having a hard time taking each other. Both were well hung. Well, not as big as Eric and I were, but bigger than usual. That was probably the problem they were having, considering their virgin status. "Additionally, they don't show you how much lube they use," I added for clarification.
"What do you use?" he asked innocently.
I smiled at how forward he was. "When I have a willing partner," I began, not admitting that I was fucking anyone right now, "I use some special lube for gay sex. Or you can use KY jelly like I did for your prostate exam. Yours is very flat and small, by the way. That's very good."
"Could I buy some from you?"
"Why not take this one?" I suggested, tossing him the tube I'd used. "There's about half of it left; and it's probably beyond its shelf life for me to use here, anyway. Don't breathe a word, though, as to where you got it. I'm effectively encouraging sex between minors by giving you this." I paused for emphasis. "Something else you'd better be wary of. You'll be 18 soon. That makes you an adult. Sam is a year younger and will still be a minor. Sex between the two of you then would be considered rape of a minor by an adult."
He gulped loudly, his eyes like saucers. "We can't be with each other anymore?"
"You could get caught at it. There can't be a hint of it going on, either. Someone could turn your young ass in and you'd be in jail. You sure as hell don't wanna be THERE!"
"But, I don't wanna stop being with him," he wailed.
"Then, be very discrete. There's no problem being seen together. You're friends from the basketball team and you go to the same school. You simply need to be careful where and when you do have sex," I continued with an additional, reinforcing warning. "Now, as your doctor, I'm telling you to use condoms, every time you do it." The chime rang, signaling the test results were ready. "But, I know what happens in the real world. You can't go bareback, unless you ONLY fuck around with each other. NO one else!" I had to explain what "bareback" was.
"I love barebacking," he sighed as I got up to retrieve the results.
I shook my head, wondering if anything I'd said was penetrating his sexually hungry brain. With the test results in hand, I sat next to him on the examining table. "Negative, Todd."
"YES!" he stage whispered. "Sam will be so happy!"
"We're done for the evening, Todd," I said. "Put your clothes back on and take the KY home with you. But, be careful. Use those damned condoms!" I said again, knowing it was probably pointless. He jumped off the examining table. The hospital gown swung open, exposing his dick. Yeah, it was a big one, alright. Long and curved like Eric's. Sam was gonna be a very lucky guy if he ever got that hot dick up his ass.
Before he left, I told him that the test results would be sent to the State as required, but he'd be assigned a number, rather than use his name. His family's health insurance would pay for the exam. The State would be paying for the HIV test. There was no way I could bill his insurance company without the chance the test would be listed as a procedure on the claim the insurance company sent to the family. That was a confidence I'd not break.
The rest of the evening was routine. When I got home, Eric was in bed, but the lamp was on. He watched me undress and pulled the sheet back for me to climb in next to him. I made love to him slowly, just the way he liked it. But, by the time I hit my climax, his poor ass was getting the powerfucking of its tender life. I was slamming and jamming that young man like a stallion breeding a mare in season.
When my climax was finished, he rolled over on to his stomach and had me push my still hard dick back up his ass. I stayed that way until my substantial, but flaccid dick fell out. I rolled off of him and lay beside him.
He loved me so totally. How did I get so lucky? I was even more surprised at myself, taking on a white boy like him as my lover. That was something I'd never thought of as possible when I fantasized about it. My fantasy lovers were always black like me. Eric had showed me that love has no color. He'd taught me a lot already about how black men and white men should relate to each other. And I did love him.
And he loved me, in the middle of the night, on my side, his big dick spraying his legendary monster load deep inside me. Yeah, this was pretty damned good! Maybe, this wasn't such a bad place to live. The place was growing on me. We'd have to talk about that, but not now. I was still enjoying the full feeling of his big dick slowly retreating from my cum-filled butt. Yeah, tomorrow was good.
I hope you've enjoyed the story. I enjoyed writing it. And many thanks for all the kind e-mails I've received about this story. Obviously, I hit a home run with many of you.
Flames ignored; constructive comments welcomed at blackhunk33@yahoo.com
No part of this story may be reproduced without the author's consent. All disclaimers apply. This story is semi-fictional. Your life isn't. Be safe.