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It had been some time since Dennis last found himself in one of these places– and more so specifically this club. Dull open rooms where many men like himself lingered. The dark floor is sticky with spilled drinks, and wall space taken up by kissing couples. There's dim lighting overhead, Dennis glances up at the mix of yellows and pinks that cast a haze between people. The room smells of sweat mostly, but sometimes when a stranger walks past a strong harsh scent of fragrant orange or musk slips by. The music isn’t overpowering, it’s surprisingly soft but catchy beats as it plays over the murmur of conversation around him.
Dennis stands watching with eyes that sit behind a cheap rubber pup mask. An item someone long ago had given to him.
He’d been new to the city, and one quiet night he had felt brave enough to go out and indulge a side of him he’d kept more repressed than being gay or trans.
His clothes had been out of place back then, straight legged denim jeans and a wrinkled cream top compared to the leather and lack of clothing he’d been standing around. Someone had taken pity on him, an older man– a much older man. Whose eyes were crinkled with a polite if amused smile, he’d beckoned Dennis over where he sat in a booth. Easing the shivering kid down against him, his voice had been low, soothing against his ear as the man had asked if he was okay, if he was meant to be here, in this hidden place. When Dennis had looked up with wide eyes and nodded, the man– dressed in little other than a harness and latex boxers had smoothed a hand down Dennis’ cheek before cupping his chin and pulling him up a little.
That had started a shaky… not relationship but something closer than just strangers hooking up.
For a few months he’d eased Dennis into the scene, gifted him some pup gear, he still had to this day and gently taught him what to do. They never actually had sex, they’d gotten close once in a cheap hotel room, thick fingers were spreading Dennis; cunt open, loosening him up and the latter had almost drifted off into a hazy whiny space.
But something had snapped himself out of it and he withdrew, he’d cried in embarrassment, rubbed his hot cheeks and sniffled feeling pathetic but that older man had just waited it out before holding him close and saying they’d try again at some point.
But that ‘some point’ never happened, Dennis never saw him at the club after that.
He’d look around the dim room, sit in their usual booth, check his phone at the few unreplied messages. Before leaving after an hour. One night though, one of the patrons took pity on him, after having seen this display a few nights in a row now.
“You’re Sammy's boy aren’t you?” He had said as he perched opposite Dennis, who’d stiffen in anxiety before nodding hesitantly. That was the name he had saved in his phone but he knew it wasn’t the older man's real name.
The other man, younger and dressed as a pup as well, sighed. He scratched the rubber over his cheek before his shoulders slumped. “I don't know how to tell you this kid but he… died. Car accident a few days back.” Dennis' ears began to ring after that, he didn’t hear anything more the pup had to say. The soft apologies he was giving, the soothing words he was trying to offer to a stranger in the club.
Dennis went… not home, but somewhere at least a little safe that night. He’d been in the motel for a few nights now, his situation was precarious but he was keeping himself afloat for the time being. He didn’t think he had a right to cry, he hadn’t known Sammy that long. A few months at best and they had only ever met under fake names and pretend play, never for coffee or a movie. But still as he laid down in the scratchy blankets that night he still let himself spill some tears over him, the kind older man that had taken him under his wing. As brief as it was.
But Dennis hadn’t returned in perhaps over a year now. He’d been busy with schoolwork but more so the thought of coming back here and not for Sammy had been hard, he’d grown so used to the old kind hands upon him and found he didn’t want any others. But it wasn’t like this side of him disappeared, after stressful days and long nights studying that hazy feeling would wrap around his head, the need to cocoon into his puphood was always nagging there. It just wasn’t till now he thought he could bring himself to come back here.
He was in a better situation compared to back then, now in Trinity’s spare room he felt safe, and their friendship was growing. He hadn’t told her about this, probably would never unless she spun it out of him on a drunken sofa and movie night, so he had slipped out after he heard her go to bed.
The stress of the Emergency Department rotation was taking its toll though, the chaotic days he spent unintentionally looking for his attending’s praise and then studying as soon as he was back home with Trinity, it was making him feel like he had vertigo. Vision swimming more than it was still, and chest aching with continued stress, he knew he needed some downtime away from the people he knew. Away from the panic of being caught.
Not that he was doing anything wrong, but as he stood swaying slightly to the soft music he felt that all too familiar sting of embarrassment Sammy had worked long to smooth away.
He stood away from the main crowd in the middle of the room, just letting himself relax back into this once cherished space. Dennis had his puphood on, covering his face in blissful anonymity, the wired ears folded down into a flop. Around his neck was one of those thick strong working dog collars, velcroed and then buckled with a heavy metal clasp, it was thick over his neck and offered a strong handle for any person he might sit with tonight. He was semi topless, nude tape pulling his chest flat, and slung over his shoulder was a small black bag he carried some extras in, stuff he didn’t want to wear while drinking. He was still in jeans though, as sweaty as the room was in, his lack of fondling kept a slight chill over his shoulders and belly, that muffined a little bit over his waistband.
The pup let his gaze sweep over the familiar space for a bit, looking at those dancing or lounging around him, he felt comfortable here. Welcomed despite his loneliness.
Dennis dared to look over to where he and Sammy used to sit, thinking he’d see other men just sitting lounging, rubbing at each other. But his breath caught when his eyes settled upon someone sitting there, idly palming themselves as they looked straight at him.
Dark eyes look upon Dennis, a latex gloved hand palming an obvious tent in his dark pants. He’s dressed as a doctor, blue button shirt with a matching grey tie, his arms are covered in a classic white lab coat and looking down he’s wearing a smart pair of shoes as well. Most of his face is hidden, a protective medical mask hiding his nose down to his chin and glasses a little steamed up from his breathing. The sight was… truthfully comical, but then everyone had their fantasies.
He looks familiar but in the dim light of the club Dennis can’t place those obscured eyes.
Dennis has a bad habit of avoiding eye contact where he can, so he never remembers anyone's features from the nose up anyway. But he wonders idly if it's a bad idea to follow the beckoning hand, out stretched towards him in invitation, if he has this nagging sense he might know the man then it would be best to turn and look for another.
But he doesn’t listen. Repeating the same actions that had led him to Sammy a year ago.
He climbs onto the leather seat beside the pretend doctor, eyes flitting up very briefly before he looks anywhere but at the older man's face. Closer the only thing he is able to take in before he averts his gaze, is the greying hair and wrinkles around his eyes. Dennis definitely has a type.
Now next to and leaning onto the man, he spots he’s no longer palming himself. A warmth on his back signalling to where the hand disappeared to.
Dennis sits, he’s not shivering like he did before, but his stiffness gives way to clear anxiety. “Easy pup, you can just cuddle with me for a bit.” A muffled low voice says close to his covered ear. He speaks loud enough to be heard over the music, The Doctor's mask and his own puphood, but like those eyes he can’t place the familiar tone.
“I don’t think you speak… but if you need to, just call me Doctor okay?” The older man– now Doctor, prompts. And it’s the last time Dennis purposefully flits his eyes to look into the others to nod in agreement. He was right, The Doctor, he rarely speaks when he’s all geared up but the reminder he can if he needs soothes his wariness and he sinks closer to the older man.
Dennis tucks his knees under him, sitting like a proper puppy as he puts a lot of his weight against The Doctor. The latex glove against his back catches sometimes where it strokes but he doesn’t grumble. Just lets the warmth run over and down his side before it returns to the nape of his neck, just scratching under the collar. The Doctor's free hand holds a glass of spirits, a deep amber alcohol Dennis would guess is whiskey. His nose wrinkles under his puphood as The Doctor sees his eyes upon it and nudges the glass close to the rubber muzzle.
“Want a sip pup?” He asks, gentle enough that after Dennis' initial retreat he lifts his head a little and accepts a splash onto his tongue. Though it’s immediately regretted with a sputter and a quick shake of his head as he pulls away from The Doctor whose laughter floods over him like mist down a mountain.
The warm hand hidden in latex rubs the back of his head while the other drops the drink to the table to haul Dennis forward atop his lap proper. The pair of hands now soothing over his cheek, down his sides upon his back. “Oh you’re a youngun aren’t you.” He coos.
Dennis drools, a mix of the strong intoxication the hands over him are bringing out and to remove the harsh taste of straight whiskey from his mouth. He’s always been more of a cocktail fan himself.
But with the initial ice broken Dennis lets out a content groan as he lays down across The Doctor's lap, letting his head hang off the edge of a strong thigh while he’s petted by the man.
He lays contently, just feeling as warm hands rub down his back over and over, pads of latex dipping in and out of the curves of his body. Sometimes they snake over his trousers, press to the gap between his legs, sometimes he’d whine for The Doctor when he did that. Feeling the pleasant bloom of pressure spread into his gut and down his thighs, the older man was doing a good job at getting him wet, his boxers already close to soaking. Dennis slips easily into a hazy subspace, barely thinking anymore as he lays gently over a warm lap.
His haze is slowly lifted for a few seconds as he feels a straw poke at his lips under his puphood, tired eyes blink and for a few short seconds he contemplates turning away, but eventually he opens his lips and sucks that straw in.
It’s not a cocktail he welcomes onto his tongue, but it isn’t a straight spirit. It’s overly sweet, most likely a fruity energy drink vodka mix, either way it’s easy to swallow down. Though, despite the fog that covers his mind he can feel knuckles brush against the rubber of his puphood and muffled soft praises of, “Good puppy…” From the man above him.
Only two drinks are given to him, most likely single shots from how sweet they were too. But it’s enough for a soft buzz to numb his pup addled mind a little more.
As he finished the second drink that warm hand returns to between his legs. Rubbing and pressing against his covered cunt, two fingers now dragging up and down the seam there. He lets himself lean back into it, increasing the pleasant pressure on him. He’s aware they’re still in an open space, others in the room can see but he doesn’t care, the easy touching and safe atmosphere continues to lull him.
“You feel like doing more tonight pup? Need a verbal answer for this.” A soft warm voice says above him, and a hand under his jaw lifting his head wakes him just a bit. Enough for him to tumble confirmation out of his wet lips.
“Y-yes… yes please.” He pants out, the hand holding him twitching, in surprise or something else Dennis doesn’t know, but it’s just for a second before it returns to a gentle guiding touch.
He’s sat up by The Doctor, a hand on his belly steadying him as he shakes his head and fully wakes up from that foggy headspace he’d been in. “Too old to carry you, you’re gonna have to walk I’m afraid.” That muffled voice speaks again before easing Dennis onto his feet.
They walk together, The Doctors hands all over him, guiding him strongly to the door that leads to the cheap hotel attached to the club. It wasn’t the cleanest place, but it beat having to change all your clothes to go find another just as cheap and dirty hotel down the road. But despite being more awake now, the trip there is still a blur. Idly, Dennis sees The Doctor exchange his card for a roomkey, feels those same heavy hands upon him so familiarly, and smells hard cleaning products as they reach a very average looking room.
A double bed, small sofa and table with a basic ensuite. It was enough for a quick hookup at least.
“I’m going to pee quickly, but go get comfortable on the bed pup.” That voice calls, now less muffled outside the music of the club, it's so familiar to Dennis ears, but so deep into this hookup he refuses to let himself think too much.
He just does as asked, pulling his trousers and shoes off he climbs into the bed, not able to resist rubbing his head along the sheets while he hears The Doctor pee in the room next to him. The action forces a soft comfortable groan from between his lips, it helps him to decompress, letting his puppy brain take over for a bit. Even the soft chuckle from behind him doesn’t pause his de-stressing motions, nor the light hand on his back where the other helps remove his little black bag.
“Can I see what you have in here pup?” The doctor asks, and Dennis finally stops his rubbing against the sheets to look over to the man. Eyes only staying on his lab coat as he nods against the sheets. It was only his extras after all, well and his spare keys.
The doctor perches by Dennis' legs, the latter moving to lay closer to the lap as he watches the older man take out some of his things. A gag in the shape of a bone, it’s laid next to him and without the other having to ask Dennis picks it up between his teeth. In return a heavy hand pats his covered head and shakes it a little. “Okay, I’ll latch that on in a bit.”
A pair of rubber gloves are taken out too, they’re paw shaped and remove Dennis' ability to use his hands, and at the sight of them he sits up excitedly. Wagging his hips to get across to The Doctor how much he wants this tonight, how much he doesn’t want to be in control. Lastly though, his lead is taken out, and is quickly clipped to his heavy collar. The older man giving it a small tug just to test the pup, smiling behind his mask at the sound of a quiet huff over the gag he’s still holding.
“Okay then, let me get this on you properly huh…” The Doctor murmurs as he reaches around and finds the thick leather straps that hang off the gag.
Dennis lets out a low whine as he’s gagged happily, still wiggling his hips on the bed. The Doctor lifts his head looking at that wagging bum and hums. “You don’t have a tail pup?” He asks lifting a hand to heavily hold and rub Dennis’ cheek, trying to encourage eye contact.
The pup in return shakes his head, and glances away.
None of this gear he’d brought for himself, and he didn’t have anything lying around spare to spend on sex toys.
“If you’re a good buy I’ll get you one, hm?” The Doctor says as he pulls away for just a moment to pick up the shortly forgotten rubber paws.
Dennis tries to yap behind his gag, but it's heavily muffled.
It makes The Doctor laugh anyway, a deep honey sound that makes the pups chest vibrate. He takes Dennis’ hands in his, holding them gently as he pulls the paws onto him, it’s a slow careful process but once it’s done Dennis flops down onto his side finally feeling like a real puppy under his doctors care, and wiggles further onto the bed by himself. Despite the soft gentle sexual tension that’s been lingering since they saw each other, right now the two let themselves be silly just for a short moment. The older man is still chuckling lightly as he follows Dennis further onto the bed and takes his sides in his warm palms. “Ah, ah, aah puppy. Where are you going?”
Dennis almost short circuits. His body stills and the doctor takes it for something different. He leans over Dennis and nuzzles just under the puphood, above the heavy collar.
Suddenly Dennis thinks he knows who this is, but it seriously can’t be. He’s about to panic, turn around and shove the man, for his voice is trapped behind the gag but before he can a warm hand cups him over his boxers and it's delicious. It makes him melt into the now once again comforting touch of The Doctor. And the pup realises he’s just finding excuses after excuses to keep putting off sex, first it wasn’t being in subspace and now he’s imagining men who are at home asleep– not in gay clubs looking for much… much younger men to fuck.
So he groans into the pleasure between his legs and rocks into that hand. Rubbing his clit against the fabric, against the older man's fingers.
“Never seen a little thing as eager as you.” Is breathed against his hood and Dennis holds back on orgasming right then. He keens loudly though, behind the bone in his mouth.
There's one of those soft chuckles again as The Doctor talks further. “Oh, you like that? Are you a little pup?” He asks, uncovering something deep inside Dennis.
Dennis nods desperately, over and over till the older man is shushing him and pushing his head down towards the bed. “Okay, you’re my little puppy for the night then.” He confirms gently, tugging on the handle on Dennis' collar to make him whine.
“Nod if it’s okay.” The deep voice speaks next. “I’d like to blindfold you with my tie, is that okay?” And it is more than okay, Dennis nods, once and sharply to not be mistaken.
He’s looking elsewhere in the dim light of the room, just breathing now, till he feels a cheap rough tie fall over his eyes. His vision going dark as it’s tied. Dennis whines, not having experienced this before, a little wary now but that warm hand is on his lower back, calms him. Applying soothing pressure as he’s shushed and gently cooed at. It brings him a little peace of mind, and he sinks further and further into his own head till the sounds and even feelings around him are all hazy and soft against his skin.
Hands smooth under his body and run over his chest idly, fingers pressing down the fraying edges of his binding tape. “You okay to have sex wearing this? Won’t hurt you will it?” The Doctor asks, ever careful.
The pup responds by shaking his head, and the fingers draw away.
They run down past his belly then round to his hips to grab and push and pull. The Doctor getting him in the position he wants. There's been a hard bulge against his thigh for some time now, but it’s moved to his boxers and a whine tumbles out his mouth.
The whine tapers off to a yelp as that bulge is pressed hard, it doesn’t hurt but the pressure is strong and it feels like it should.
All Dennis can do is lay and take it and it’s making him feel drunk.
He paws at the sheets as he feels his boxers be slowly pulled down his thighs. There's a bit of a struggle as The Doctor gets them past the knees that are planted firmly to the sheets, but finally they’re gone and it leaves his cunt exposed to the chill of the air, slick actually dripping to the sheets. His little t-dick is perked and even jerking with excitement.
“Aaaah, so cute. You’re truly such a little puppy.” The Doctor coos as he runs his fingers over the wet folds, making Dennis jump with a whine. “So so needy down here.” He murmurs as he lets two fingers rub and circled over the fat puffy head of his clit.
Dennis whines, it’s all he can do apart from drool over the bone in his mouth. He tries to wiggle his hips, get more of that delicious friction against himself but a steady hand against his hips stops that.
“Easy now.” The Doctor murmurs.
Fingers rub his clit with harsh pressure, it’s an overwhelming feeling. His gut thrums with warmth, and when the older man pushes his clit-hood back and rubs that one little spot, Dennis moans as loud as he can around the wet gag in his mouth. His cunt burns, and specifically he feels like he’s going to pee. He whines and wiggles his hips in warning, it feels so so so good, mind numbingly so. But that burning he’s going to pee persists, oh god. It feels like he’s going to wet himself as The Doctor keeps rubbing that one little spot under his clit-hood.
He makes as much noise as he can behind his gag, trying to tell the man behind him he’s going to pee.
But then, maybe that's what The Doctor was trying to achieve as with a deep chuckle and holding steadfast, a spurt of warm liquid slips free from his bladder and it drops annoyingly delicately to the sheets before suddenly the rest of his piss joins it. He yelps before groaning with low noises that taper off into repeated familiar whines as he pees himself. Hot liquid gushes from between his legs, those two drinks had filled him up more than he realised. It coats his cunt and his thighs, rivets of piss trailing over milky legs, and tinkling off pubic hair. Behind his puphood Dennis face is beat red, embarrassment hot beneath his chest. It feels overwhelmingly good. Releasing his piss all over himself like an untrained pup, it’s so dirty but it’s blissful as his hot piss flows out of his little hole.
But before he can turn and try to complain two gloved fingers are pushing into his cunt, trickling his pee off to a stop. And a teasing chuckle is breathed over his back. “Oh… poor pup, did you need to go potty?”
The gentle teasing… Dennis finds it soothes him and he can’t bring himself to feel so embarrassed now, especially as those two fingers are rocking into him. Gently rubbing up against his walls and with some shallow jabs, that make him cough a little, just grazing against his cervix. So, he gives in. Dennis goes loose and limp in The Doctor's hold and decides he can take care of him in any way he wants.
“Good boy…” Is breathed over his skin before chapped lips are pressed to his shoulder. A rough short beard scratching him there too. The older man must have removed his surgical mask at some point…
He’s fingered slowly, at first. The movements lazy as they draw out and then ease back in. Mostly working to loosen him up then anything else, ease his fluttering muscles open and relaxed. They continue for what feels like ages, and when they’re removed left over piss dribbles between his legs. Dennis just breathes for a bit, shallow breaths sucked over the bone gag and then wetly expelled. His stomach rising and falling with the deep motion of his diaphragm.
The hand on his hip goes to his belly, holding his slight chub there gently. It’s deceiving.
The Doctor's fingers press back inside him and without a moment wasted he’s getting finger blasted. It brings low grunts over the gag from Dennis’ lips. He stays still, letting those fingers ram into him over and over, scratch and graze at his cervix sometimes even jabbing it to the point Dennis is mewling over that gag. If he hadn’t already lost his bladder the pressure deep inside him would have released it over himself now.
Above him, The Doctor continues to praise him with soft, ‘Good puppy’s and ‘Well done’s that keep that red blush permanently stained against his hidden cheeks.
Again, the finger fucking feels almost never ending, his pleasure growing deep in his guts it almost hurts his ovaries.
Dennis grunts with a lurch back as those fingers are removed finally. Leaving his cunt twitching and if it were possible, whimpering. The Doctor sits back just staring down at that now relaxed open entrance, one finger trailing over it as he lets the pup have a few moments to catch his ragged breath.
The pup's breathing finally calms down, and as soon as it does he feels The Doctor's heavy body lean over him. That beard scratching his skin, tickling where it lays. One arm was wrapped around him tightly, holding him comfortingly close while the other was fiddling with something behind him.
That something being The Doctor's large cock that was now pressing against his sopping wet entrance. It was covered, Dennis– despite the haze in his brain could feel the smooth latex condom that covered the swollen head poking at his fluttering cunt. He groaned around the gag, somehow sagging even further into the older man who just murmured softly into his puphood. Words unheard as they floated over the rubber covering his head, Dennis was only focused on that hot feeling at his entrance, making soft wet sounds of excitement as he waited for that push in. And when The Doctor did, they both groaned, low in their throats. Dennis hadn’t felt this full before, not with his fingers, not with any item he’d had thought to stuff inside himself before now. It was an overwhelming feeling of completeness to him, like he was made to take a breeding from the older man.
He wouldn’t have thought himself a crier during sex, but even with closed eyes he can feel tears bud under his lashes.
The Doctor can’t see his tears thanks to the blindfold, but he does pause buried inside him. Lets his hands pet over Dennis’ sides before one gently turns his head against the sheets, so he can check-in. “Hey… hey now, why you crying pup? You okay, you just overwhelmed?” He asks gently, mouth just by Dennis’ shoulder, idly kissing it between questions. He can see the way the pups chest his shaking, the soft sniffles, and it brings him to a complete stop as he makes sure this sweet little thing under him is okay.
Dennis nods, quickly. God he’s more than okay.
“Okay… okay. Gonna move then yea pup?” The Doctor is just making sure, as one hand gently takes the pup's lead. Holding it gently but far enough away it makes the young man lift his head off the sheets.
Despite the pull Dennis is able to nod again, breathing softer now over his gag.
The Doctor leans back up, removing the heavy pressure of his body from the pup, giving him some space as he places his free hand on his hip. Himself, takes a heavy breath before Dennis feels him pull out, he whines at the loss shaking his lifted head before there's a rough slam back in that makes stars alight behind his eyelids. The pair pause, and then The Doctor repeats that motion, listening to the pretty little whines that escape the pup's gagged mouth.
“Oh puppy… you like it rough huh?” The older man murmurs as he drops the lead, watching as the pup's head follows with it.
Dennis doesn’t have to answer, that heavy hand grabs the handle on his collar and after a slow pull out The Doctor above him grabs a hip. There's only a moment of stillness before the older man begins ramming the pup below him. Dennis is whining with each hard quick thrust, his body jerking each time the head of that thick cock punches his cervix, oh god it hurts but it feels so good to Dennis. It causes his belly to flutter and his bladder to kick with each rough push in, his hips ache from holding his rear up for so long but it’s a hard pleasure that slinks down his thighs, and runs up his back.
He feels used.
And by god does that make him feel loved.
The hand on his hip is hard, it digs into his bone, even now the skin blushes in preparation for a bruise tomorrow. His head lolls with each forward snap of The Doctor’s hips, tongue pushing against the bone gag as drool bubbles around it. The cock in him paves its way, splitting and spreading him open like a spear that’s travelled through his heart. Idly he thinks of Sammy, but he does his best to push that thought aside before it can linger.
The Doctor above him feels so good, so big, so rough that when the older man leans back over him and wraps arms around his stomach to just rut Dennis is seeing a galaxy explode behind his lids. He paws at the sheets, useless hands pushing and pulling at the rumbled fabric. He thinks the older man is talking to him as he fucks him, can just hear praise over the thrum of blood in his ears. His pulse too fast in his neck, in his head.
He tries to move a rubber paw to his cunt, grind his clit down on it but it doesn’t feel as good as when The Doctor had done it earlier.
He thinks the older man senses this, or likes to be in control, as he gently pulls that useless paw away so he himself can rub at his aching little t-dick. Dennis mewls, pushing back onto the rutting dick inside him. He’s close, god he’s close. Just a little more of that rubbing, circling, teasing on his t-dick and, god… oh god, he’s…
Dennis mewls, he whines and he squirms on that rutting dick and teasing gloved hand. He’s whimpering wetly over the gag and his cunt is spasming around a stilling cock. Pleasure washes up from his belly and into his chest, making his foggy head all but collapse past the sheets into the mattress of the bed and out the other side of the floor.
He must be drenching The Doctor's trousers, swears he has to be squirting with the level of euphoria that is thrumming and plucking through his body, feeling like when Trinity plays her guitar in the evening. How he listens to it from his room while studying.
Slowly he comes down, his breathing calming from the uneven panting to deep ragged hot and muggy breaths. The gag comes off him, The Doctor undoing it to let him breathe properly as he recovers.
“Just gonna grind into you pup if that's okay?” He asks warmly into his shoulder.
Dennis swallows, nods numbly in response before he’s groaning at the numb oversensitive feeling of slow movement inside him. The Doctor is only grinding, slow long lengths inside the pup now. But Dennis can’t help but let quiet warbles slip out of his now freed lips. The man above him is panting, not as fast as he was, but they’re deep quick noises, wet against his skin as he chases his own slow pleasure.
“You got the energy to squeeze me kid?” Is panted into his skin.
The pup whines but nods, raising his hips and ducking his head into the sheets as he squeezes his sore insides around The Doctor's cock, who responds in a low pleased groan. Dennis keeps doing that action, squeezing the thick cock inside him till he feels The Doctor push inside as deep as he can with a groan and tense shudder. He jerks his hips, filling his condom with his cum, just holding Dennis tightly to his clothed chest as he does.
There's a moment of calm, both men just panting softly as they lay together. It’s only broken when The Doctor leans away with a huff and quiet moan. Dennis hears the sound of latex being pulled off, and moments later he feels cracked but warm and comforting hands rubbing his lower back. “Shit pup… you’re over-heating.” The Doctor's voice isn’t as gentle, he’s even a little alarmed by the inclination in his tone, but he’s caring.
He pulls out, and Dennis can feel the distinct feeling of that fat cock head leaving his cunt and then the heavy drop of a full condom slip out of him. It makes him shiver despite the sweat coating his heated skin.
Empty, Dennis flops forward, giving his sore hip joints a break as he sucks in calming and hopefully cooling breaths.
Kind hands are gently patting him, feeling his over exerted skin. They dip over his hips, press against his belly before they flit away. “Gonna take your hood off pup okay? Gonna cool you down…”
Dennis just nods slowly, his head feels slow with the warmth on his body.
Hands slip the tie off around his eyes, but he doesn’t open them, too busy panting again. His collar is unclasped and it falls to the bed with a jangle. The hood isn’t removed however, at least not yet. The Doctor leaves the bed, Dennis can feel the way the mattress shifts, but he’s only gone for a second or two as it dips again with the older man's weight and a large towel is placed under him, making a temporary barrier between Dennis and the sticky puddle of piss he’d expelled earlier. He groans out his thanks, still hazy with heat under his skin. Though a slight shiver runs through him as a cold flannel is placed on his neck.
“Come on, time to get this hood off.” The Doctor murmurs gently, and large fingers slip under the rubber slowly pulling it off. Dennis lets out a shaky breath, eyes still closed as he lays with his head turned with a cheek against the sheets.
There's deathly silence above him, breaths that stop altogether before returning shaky and unsure. A hand that moves from his thigh to his lower back, and despite his foggy head, he can hear as rough fingers drag over a rough beard. Dennis groans, daring to open his eyes to see what's wrong.
He turns squinting at first, feeling the wet towel slip off his neck as he shuffles from his front to his side to look at the man above him. The older man who’d taken care of him so well tonight, who he had been hoping might give him his number.
But then Dennis' own breathing also stutters to a stop, just as he rolls onto his back.
Above him is no stranger. Familiar deep dark brown eyes stare into his own pale blues, handsome wrinkles pinched in a frown that now look down upon him. Without the surgical mask Dennis can now clearly see that familiar long nose, a shape that he has long had the urge to run his thumb down. He squashes it with a slow blink of his eyes.
The younger laid out on the sheets swallows, as he stares above him to his boss. To his attending.
To Dr. Robby.