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“Welcome, Mr. Robinivitch, good to see you.” Dennis says with a smile as Robby enters his own bedroom, greeted by the young doctor who was in scrubs as he had requested. “Please have a seat.” Dennis gestures to the bed. Robby shifts nervously, closing the door behind him, and doing as ordered. “What brings you in today?” He continues, holding a clipboard with a notebook in one hand, and a pen in the other, clinical and with the slightest bit of warmth.
“Ah, well I’ve been having trouble in the bedroom.” Robby began, hands in his lap, gripping them together anxiously. He’s not sure if he’s playing it up for the scene, or if the scene just makes him feel like this. Either way, he can tell it makes Dennis excited. Dennis cocks an eyebrow and gestures for him to continue. “I…can’t maintain an erection.”
Dennis hums and writes something down before putting the pad and pen on the dresser behind him. “I see. Well that’s common for men your age. Is it also difficult to achieve an erection? Or just to maintain one?” The younger man came closer, getting into Robby’s space. “I may have to examine you to get a proper assessment.” Robinivitch swallows thickly, small beads of sweat emerging on his forehead.
“I can’t really get hard, either. Not without medical aid.” He admits, a flush appearing on his cheeks, gaze averting.
“Ah you mean something like Viagra helps? Are you able to achieve orgasm without the use of an aid?” Dennis plies, putting a hand on the back of Robby’s neck. Robby stiffens his posture at the contact, turning his face away from the close proximity of the younger doctor. In response, Dennis grips his nape tightly and uses his thumb to turn Robby’s chin back to face him. Robby expects him to say something but is instead met with burning scrutiny.
“What?” Robby manages, staring dumbly into Dennis’s watery blue eyes as they crinkle prettily at his question, a mean glint surfacing in his gaze.
“What I’m asking, old man, is can you cum?” Whitaker grins mockingly, all pretense of professionalism gone, and Robby groans in response, feeling his face and neck get hotter.
“Yes, doctor.” He replies breathily. The mirth in Dennis’s eyes spreads to his lips as he cracks a lopsided smile.
“I’d like to see that, if you don’t mind. Be a good patient and get undressed for me while I step out to give you privacy.” Dennis gives a slap to Robby’s shoulder and turns, leaving the room and closing the door behind him, no chance for rebuttal.
Robby perches on the edge of his bed for a moment, gears turning, before standing up shakily and shedding his clothes. He is forced to sit with his thoughts roiling and his limp cock beginning to dribble in excitement before two light taps on the door indicate Dennis’s return.
“Ah, smaller than I imagined.” Dennis remarks, not unkindly, just a statement of fact that causes Robby to cover his dick with his hands, shifting uncomfortably. “No, I want to see.” Whitaker smiles and motions for Robby to move his hands. “It’s quite cute, I imagine that it once was quite proud back when you were able to get it up.” Dennis scoffs and turns his back on his patient to dig in the box of black nitrile gloves on their dresser, snapping a pair on.
Reluctantly Robby puts his hands to his sides, his crease of his left thigh covered in slick pre, the head of his dick flushed uselessly. “How long is this exam going to take, Doctor Whitaker?”
Dennis turns back toward him nonchalantly and muses for a moment. “Depends, I just want to test a few things. Now, just relax, Michael.” Dennis reaches between Robby’s legs and cups his balls, rubbing his thumb across the soft wrinkled skin before moving to hold the shaft in his closed hand, stroking him gently. Robby gasps softly, head hanging forward, watching intently. ”So you can feel sensations, but you can’t get hard? Interesting. How pathetic.”
A beat, then, “I think the effect would be greater if you had more stimulation. Go ahead and lay back for me,” Dennis instructs, bringing a pillow from the head of the bed and angling it underneath Robby’s hips, “Good job.” Whitaker lets Robby’s dick fall limp against his stomach, moving to get the lube from the nightstand and using his clean hand to fish it out from the drawer. He uncaps it effortlessly and pours some on his precum covered fingers.
“Okay, I’m going to insert two fingers into your rectum now,” Dennis informs him, and Robby is barely able to protest before one of Whitaker’s fingers begins pushing past the tight ring of muscle.
“Fuck, Whitaker.” Robby manages, Dennis’s digit working its way in and flexing inside him.
“Doctor Whitaker. Don’t be so disrespectful, old man.” He grins wolfishly as he retreats, only to add another finger and push them both back inside, bringing his other hand back to Robby’s neglected, leaking cock. Robby grips the bedding and squirms, out of breath and unfocused, struggling to keep his hips still.
“It’s useless, I won’t…” The older man gasps, screwing his eyes shut. His hole twitches around Dennis’ fingers as he falls apart around him.
“It’s just a little experiment, Michael, don’t you want to see what your body is capable of?” He teases, flexing and rocking his fingers inside of Robby. He slides them out of the cavity with a wet sound and brings his gloved hand to his scrub pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. “Now for the real test. Keep your legs spread for me.” Dennis, unlike his patient, is hard and straining as he pulls his cock out of his scrubs, stroking himself lazily using Robby’s slick and groaning in pleasure at the feeling.
“Doctor Whitaker…This is highly unprofessional,” Robby says, beginning to move, but Whitaker’s hands fly to his knees and haul him back in place, lining his hips up to his own. His proud cock jut up between Robinivitch’s spread legs, rubbing against his limp wet dick.
“Be good, Mr. Robinivitch, or I won’t let you finish,” Whitaker threatens, keeping his patient still with one hand, the other using the lube to make the black nitrile shine, coating his erection in the substance before moving himself to poke at Robby’s fluttering entrance. “Okay, deep breath in…” He guides patiently, Robby obeying. Dennis pushes in as Robby releases his breath, turning it into a low moan.
“You’re dick might not work, but your ass feels great Mr. Robinivitch.” Dennis sat full hilt, for a moment, before beginning to grind deep into him. “Fuck, Robby…” He rocks his hips against the larger man, who gaspes at each thrust. Robby’s cock bounces and slaps against him as Whitaker rails into him, one of his hands gripping Robby’s hip, the other bearing down on the older man’s shoulder.
“Den, I can’t-” Robby is cut off with a curt slap to the face, forcing his gaze to the side before the older man looks back, shocked.
“It’s Doctor Whitaker, Mr. Robinivitch, or did you forget? Are you losing your focus?” Dennis teases, leaning down to whisper in Robby’s ear andcontinuing to set a brutal pace.
“Doctor..” Robby amends, eyes pleading and shining with tears. “You feel so good, but I can’t…”
“I know you can do it, Michael, you’re made for taking my cock.” Whitaker smiles down at him, his breath coming out in low grunts with each snap of his hips. He leans back, pulling almost all the way out before shoving himself back in cruelly. “Look at it bounce around. Do you feel it leaking all over your thighs and stomach, Mr. Robinivitch? So cute. So pathetic.” Dennis punctuates each degradation with a deep and thorough fucking, watching Robby with profound admiration, the other man squirming with discomfort and pleasure as he was rocked.
“I’m close,” Dennis continues, panting. “Should I cum all over you?”
“Inside, Doctor Whitaker.” Robby gasps, his head thrown back; his face wet with tears and sweat. “Please, I can’t… I want…” Robinivitch babbles and whines. Whitaker, taking his cue, doubles over, bouncing the older man on his cock as the pleasure rises in his gut, Robby latches his legs around Whitaker’s waist, the limbs quaking with effort.
“You take it so well, fuck I’m close. I’m gonna fill you up. How does that make you feel, Michael? Your doctor fucking you at an examination. You’re so easy...” Dennis pants and groans low in his throat, losing rhythm as he speeds up.
“God… Dr. Whitaker… Dr. Whitaker.” Robinivitch is red all the way down to his chest, cock jumping, dancing between his hiked-up thighs, punctuating each messy thrust with a gasp of Dennis’ title.
“Fuck!” Dennis is sweating with effort, pistoning into Robby, and he leans down to mark the junction of Robby’s neck and shoulder as he comes inside, filling his patient up with his spend. He continues thrusting as he finishes, Robby shuddering, gasping and hiccuping as he comes untouched, filled and fucked full. Dennis rides out his orgasm, weakly thrusting over and over into Robby’s abused, loose rim, white spilling onto the bedding.
Whitaker slowly pulls out, watching Robby carefully as they both come down from the scene before flopping down beside the wrecked man. They lay there catching their breath, Dennis taking off the gloves and tossing them to the floor as he props himself up on his elbow, turning to face Robby.
“So…” He leads, using his free hand to trace lazy patterns on Robby’s chest. He waggles his eyebrows encouragingly at his mentor.
“Very good, Den. That was…so good.” Robby covers his eyes with a forearm, his body limp and legs hanging off the bed. “I need a shower now. Want to join me?” However, Robby makes no motion to move, so Dennis sits up and pulls at Robby’s arm to get the older man up and sitting.
“Yeah, let’s go do that.”