Since first meeting him and now having worked with him the last month, he’s never been anything other than calm, kind, and unruffled with a cool composure – both in and out of the operating room.
But something about our exchange today flustered him. It was evident the he was rattled by my request for feedback and I kind of liked the way his exterior façade collapsed ever-so-slightly. A little earthquake that shook the foundation of his carefully crafted persona.
When I clasped him on the shoulder, though – that connection we had felt more like a seismic shift in the ground beneath my feet. It made me wonder if he felt it, too, and that’s what got him so rattled.
I’ll admit, it was easy to push his buttons and it turned me on. Obviously, McHottie Doc isn’t used to being pressed like that, especially from someone on his nursing staff. When I did push, he seemed to get tongue-tied. A cute blush even rose up on his neck and his ears turned bright red. It was adorable and oh-so amusing to shake his steely composure. To make him stammer a bit with his words.
He looked incredibly handsome with his feathers ruffled. And damn if I didn’t want to ruffle them up using other means and tactics – maybe my mouth, hands and cock.
It made me wonder how far I could push things. If I could make him lose control in other ways. If there’s two things I know for sure at this point, it’s that Dr. Mark Olsen is one hell of a fine doctor, and likely a very closeted one, at that.
How do I know, you ask?
Well, I’ll tell you. The secret to knowing if another man is gay is the way he looks at you. The furtive glances that Mark has been giving me in the operating room over the last few procedures, as well as the way he kept his eyes glued to my ass as I walked away from him earlier is a sure sign he’s gay as fuck.
Or at least has gay tendencies.
Only men attracted to other men would look at my ass inthatway.
The mere thought of his eyes, or any other parts of his body, being stuck to my ass has my soapy hands moving down my wet torso to stroke my hardening length. I lather up under my sac, lingering over my semi-hard cock, that twitches just thinking about meeting with Dr. Mark Olsen on Monday alone in his office. Where he could bend me over his desk and play doctor with me.
I stroke my cock as I imagine biting the blush on his neck. Nipping at his ears. Kissing down his chest. Listening to him growl out my name as he feeds me his cock and he comes in my mouth with a beastly howl.
My orgasm comes out of nowhere, shooting across the wet tile of shower floor. My vision is momentarily impaired with the high of my climax, blinding white lights flashing behind my eyelids.
When I finally suck in air that’s steady enough to regulate my panting gasps, I push those thoughts aside, because my naughty daydreams are just that...dreams that will never happen in real life with the good doctor.
Even if he thought about me in the same way, I know on instinct that he’s not the man who’ll shout my name from the rooftops.
Something inside him might be attracted to me, but there’s no way he’ll be flying any gay pride banner any time soon.
