Sit Back and Relax
Get the ebook and read more pulp at [url=http://www.drivingcat.org]DrivingCat.org[/url]!
Ok, ok, listen. This story starts out kind of slow but if you'll listen it gets good eventually, alright? Ok, so I'm all alone in like this really bright waiting room at the dentist's office reading Highlights for Children and Readers Digest or whatever because all I'm trying to do is keep my mind off drills and needles. Yeah I know I don't look like the kind of guy afraid of a dentist, what with the eyebrow piercings and the bright pink Mohawk and what all about me but cut me a break. Some things just stick with you from childhood, you know? I can't even stop chewing my lip ring because I'm the only guy in this waiting room, that's bright bright white and I swear to God the paint was still wet because apparently I'm like the guy's first patient ever or something. It's early in the morning, I'm a little hung over, I'm reading goddamn Goofus and Gallant and my stomach just won't stop turning. And that's a lot of turning to do, as you can see.
Maybe I exaggerated that I was his first patient ever but you could tell he hadn't been there long. The secretary's nameplate was all shiny still, and she was young so it wasn't possible for it to be one of those offices where like the same secretary is there for fifty years until she dies. The place wasn't even in the phone book yet when I was trying to find a dentist to fix my goddamn toothache, I called a million places until one of the guys told me about the fellow I went to see, some panda who'd been an assistant for only a few years and was just getting ready to open his own place. So I set up an appointment, only realizing just after I hung up the phone that I was gonna be getting my teeth drilled by some guy who probably hadn't even seen two sets of teeth before and then I really got a lump in my stomach that hadn't gone away even a week later when I was finally there.
When I was a kid my dentist was this old bony fucker who always jabbed my gums and told me to floss every single time I went there. He'd always say "Boars have such nice tusks, you need to keep them that way young man," and just the way he said it was so creepy. I couldn't like him. He had been a dentist for decades or centuries or something, and I'd been nervous even with him, so imagine how my heart started to race when the dentist himself shows up in the waiting room to come get me. He was young for a professional, probably early thirties, and you could tell he was eager to be operating, his smile was almost as wide as he was. His eyes were like dinner plates, almost sparkling inside the jet-black splotches of fur around them. He had to open the door wide to greet me, and his thick body seemed friendly.
I'd never had a chubby dentist, doctor, optometrist, hell the guys that did my piercings were thin as rails too. It was actually a small relief to see the baggy green scrubs hanging loose over his bulging belly, his meaty arms moving with a surprising grace and energy as he waved me through the door, adjusting the frameless glasses on his stubby nose as he did. I made sure to shake his hand with a firm grip and direct eye contact, but the bulky paw and stubby fingers made me tingle. He seemed robust for someone his size, though he wasn't obese; he wore his extra weight more like it was a sign of an easy life than a sign of sloth. Kind of like me, really. We both were just generously chubby, with him being slightly more so accounting to his extra height.
I made sure to get a good peek when he reached up to a high shelf to grab one of those sterile masks, his sleeves falling down and giving me a better peak at his powerful arms. His scrubs became untucked as he reached higher and I could see his stomach. It didn't hang over lazily like a dead mass, it floated as if the belly had no real weight at all. His fur was short and immaculate, pure white like I imagine all medical-type guys to be. I don't know if he caught me staring, but I shook myself out of it when he finally put his mask on and led me to the chair.
I can't say I wasn't still nervous. I'm sorry but when I'm about to have a needle shoved into tender parts of my body, I get butterflies in my stomach, you know? Even if the guy doing the shoving is cute and soft and all that other stuff that makes my hair stand on end. I don't know if he knew immediately what I was feeling, but he tried to comfort me a little. He was all 'Is this your first time getting drilled?' and I said I'd had a few done before and it never went well for me, and he chuckled and assured me that he was 'very gentle and would be certain not to harm me' while he snapped some gloves onto his paws to check my teeth. He admired my tusks, kind of stroking them with the tips of his fingers, sort of distracted by them really, and I would have been annoyed if I wasn't just thrilled to have the guy's fingers on me. Really, it sounds weird, but I've always had an oral fixation. I'm not saying any of you guys need to come over and shove your hands in my mouth, but it always gives me this kind of tingly sensation on the back of my neck. Plus it gave me the chance to look at his eyes, and our looks would meet when he'd ask me if I'd been brushing and all that stuff, and I kind of shyly nodded even when I was lying. He poked around my gums a little, not using any instruments just yet and I don't know why. He went back to my tusks, too, drawing his fingers over them like they were knife blades or something. I think he whistled. He really liked my tusks.
He still had his fingers in my mouth, though, and it was kinda hot and all, but the problem was, after you grow up and start going to shows and clubs and have a few one night stands you, uh, begin to associate new things with the taste of latex. The thoughts immediately flooded my brain when before they'd only seep in through the crippling fear, his stubby finger probing me as I kept my eyes closed... I kind of lost track, and I wrapped my lips around it. I opened my eyes quickly and caught his, intriguingly lacking any kind of disgust, just looking as shocked as I was. The rest of the pre-checkup went along awkwardly, especially after he switched to the tools and the scraping immediately destroyed any kind of tender feeling I'd gotten, and again I was a little bit of a nervous wreck. Dr. Panda was suddenly quieter, too, and I kinda worried I wasn't gonna be getting a lollipop later on.
Goddamn, though, I must've been blushing. I might not have blushed cause of what I did, but the way his cheeks started to glow just as soon as he went back to checking up on me, through to when he snapped off his gloves and washed his paws again, that probably would have done it. I can't stand to see a guy a blush, it makes me want to fall in love or something. You hardly ever see guys blush; I've seen way more dicks in my life than rosy cheeks, and that's not even a significant amount of dicks. I almost had to melt into the chair. Especially the way he started to stutter and slur his words. He said a few more things, trying to relax me or him or somebody, but suddenly now there wasn't anybody in the room who was as cool and calm and collected as that kind of procedure demands, so I got really goddamn worried when he reached for the needle. It was all instinct, and I say that wishing I could claim this as the suavest thing anyone has ever done, but I just reached out and stopped him from coming any closer. When I did, I put my paws on his stomach and squeezed, and he stopped, but it wasn't like I was holding him back, he just stopped, like froze, and his eyes turned into big circles again. His stomach was just as soft as it looked, but it didn't feel mushy like a sack of mashed potatoes or whatever, it felt like a foam pillow that was all warm after you woke up in the morning. Yeah, I got fancy pillows at home, fucking sue me alright?
Anyway, so suddenly now I'm like the guy running the show. I know it, I don't think he knows it, but I've been around long enough to know when a guy is putty in your paws, and he pretty literally was. The figurative kind of literal, I mean. I gave his belly another squeeze and his reaction was... it's like at the beginning of a song and the guitarist plays like one note that sounds so goddamn sad and from there on you're like "oh, power ballad time, better get to the bathroom," except this was good times. Anything other than just standing there letting me paw at his belly and it would have been a different story, but suddenly now I'm all smiles without even the laughing gas and I'm slipping my paws up his scrubs to run my fingers through his short, fine hair. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close to me, resting my chin on his body and looking up at him. I say "Sorry I'm so touchy feely doc, I've just always had a thing for men in uniform."
He just kinda stammered a bit, then let out this long, low sigh like he was trying to flush it all out of his system, then just says "Well if this is what makes you comfortable for the procedure," as if this was still about my goddamn teeth. I tell him "Oh yeah, you're real comfy doc, and cute too, and don't think I'm lying just cause you've got that mask on your face." I end up kinda getting up in my chair, kinda lifting his shirt up while I got to my knees, and then we were pretty much face to face. My tusks were practically poking into that little mask of his, so I grabbed the thing, pulled it down, and planted a big wet one on him. It was like a breaking dam; at first he half resisted, though of course he didn't, like, step backwards like he could have if he really didn't want my lips on him, then slowly I felt him returning it. His lips were warm and wet, our kissing at first innocent like we were both still in fifth grade or something, our lips barely opening, but I goaded him slowly into being more passionate. I bit his lip gently, then he bit mine as if he were learning on the fly how to do this. It was actually kind of weird how tentative the guy was, and I could actually feel how warm his cheeks were, he was that embarrassed just about kissing. I was thinking this couldn't possibly be going anywhere, when suddenly the guy just shoves his tongue into my mouth. I actually squealed a little it shocked me so much, but hell it didn't take me more than two seconds until my tongue was dancing with his and I was licking at the inside of his muzzle. It was startling how quickly he went from reservation to wild abandon.
"Geeze doc, never kiss a guy before?" I said, pulling back, snapping the sterile mask back into place, but he ripped it back off and then he had his arms wrapped around me and was licking my tusks, pecking my nose, licking my chin, and sinking his tongue into my maw again. He had no idea what he was doing, really, but his mad passion was incredibly alluring. Very clearly, to return to my question, he never had kissed a guy before. You know, all those porn stories involve some kid in high school and "by golly I never did kiss a boy before oh hey there Mr. Fox" but I guess in real life a lot of guys don't do it until they're in their thirties or something. I didn't know if this panda, with his meaty paws working up into my shirt, had just been too shy or in denial or what the fuck ever but I gotta tell you, you can't match the passion when a guy's cork pops on you and he's spraying his pent up passions all over your face. I thought he was gonna rip out my lip ring or shatter a tooth on it, the way it kept clicking against our teeth. He licked along my long tusks, buried his tongue in my mouth, laid my back against the chair and rested on top of me, his sweaty paws grabbing at whatever he felt appropriate, though the guy didn't seem to have the courage yet to slip them into my pants.
He must have been pretty tuckered out, or completely fagged if you're into wordplay, cause soon he was only resting his head on my chest, eyes shut and panting heavy, his burly chest pressing against my body with each deep breath. He was either tired or holding me down so I couldn't go anywhere. I wouldn't have, or anything, but he did have me pinned down pretty well. Neither of us was huge, I mean we fit in the chair, but he was a little taller and wider than I was and to see such a big man so broken down all of a sudden over li'l ole me was a queer sight. I rubbed my flat nose against his forehead as he was resting.
"This can't be your first time with a man, what are you, thirty?" I asked. I didn't mean it to be rude, but it came out pretty rude, because he looked up as if I'd just rejected him outright.
"No! I've... I've had fantasies. But, um, I-... I guess not."
"What, you used to think of men while you were fucking women?"
"I-" The blush returned. I coulda bent over for him right there. "I used to think of men while fantasizing about women."
"Oh dear."
I doubt I would've been the man's first choice. I'm sure in his head he envisioned candles and a dimly lit bedroom and a woman and all, but then again I guess it always is the clean cut guys who want the dudes with metal in their face, and hey, I was gonna get in on that anyway. I wasn't thinking it'd be the best fuck in the world, but you can make up for lack of skill with plenty of raw enthusiasm, and this guy's spring had just been sprung for the first time. And hell, I was pretty excited myself. It'd been awhile since I'd even seen a gay guy weigh more than a buck fifty, much less a powerful bastard like this, and everyone knows sometimes it takes a big strong man to get that lawnmower running. He wasn't muscular, but he felt like he could rip a phone book in half. That's just the kind of vibe you put off when you're so big and don't move around like a bucket of cement, you know, as if you have energy and all, like this panda had surplus of. This guy was all over the place now, lifting up my shirt and licking my stomach, squeezing my sides, kissing my chest. I... I know I've been trying to sound all relaxed and all but seriously, I was fucking eating it up. My dick was straining against my pants, I was moaning like all hell and I'm sure I would've caused alarm if people didn't expect sounds like that at a dentist's office anyway. He practically sighed when he found my nipple ring and immediately put the thing in his mouth. I had to tell him not to bite it, but after some curt instructions he had me going. He probably didn't even notice when I slipped my pants down to my knees, my dick pressing comfortably against his plush stomach. When he started slowly working down my body again, he stopped to lick around my belly button, and from there I just kind of shoved his head down onto it. He took to it like a duck to dick.
Which isn't to say he took to it like a duck to water. Ducks know their way around water, this guy didn't know shit about dick. You gotta love the selfless attitude of a guy who just takes your balls in his mouth without being asked, but then you gotta coach him about the proper role of teeth in a blowjob. I had one of his ears in my paw, not yanking on it, just kinda guiding him along, my other paw under his chin. He hadn't stopped blushing yet, and now his glasses were fogged up and steamy. Drool streamed down my shaft and made my fur wet; it was so sloppy and so hot, he probably had to buy a whole new chair the next day.
It wasn't mind-blowing or anything, but there was this feeling I'd never had before... it was almost like in my spine or something... I need to try and explain it. It's like when he takes my dick out of his mouth and just kinda stares at it, just rubs it against his face and breaths his hot breath on it, practically worshiping it, until he slips the thing slowly back between his lips... like when he was too shy to take all of it in his mouth so I had to slowly guide him down, feel him gag against it, compose himself, then try again with more success... like when he'd stop to listen my instructions, trying to roll his tongue like I told him to and not getting it quite right... like when he couldn't choose between dick or balls, and he'd switch between one and the other, giving my head a test lick, the balls a quick suck, kiss a spot in between, before suddenly devoting himself entirely... like when he would stop and take long, deep breaths, because he'd been so entranced by dick that he'd completely forgotten to breathe! All of these point to one thing that just made me tingle: This is the first dick he's had in his mouth! The guy must have been thirty five, and here I am almost half his age and I'm teaching him how to suck a dick. He was picking it up quickly, too, learning where the most tender spots were, how to move your tongue, how to suck without biting, and it was all my work. I was nudging him towards his first piece of ass. I'm letting loose years of tension and desire. I'm burning myself in his memory as his first, preparing him for all the other dicks he'll be sucking in the future. Well, if there are any. I'm the first real man he's had his paws on after maybe thousands of fake men in his mind and on the computer that he couldn't actually hold and taste. When did he first start thinking about what he was doing right now? Sixteen? Fifteen? Younger? I may not have been alive when these desires started to ferment, but here I was, all these years later, the lucky bastard with whom he got to finally live them out. It was like seeing a baby deer take its first steps, except they'd never play this on the Discovery Channel.
I pressed the button that reclined the chair and laid myself flat, the panda huffing and puffing between my legs, exhausted but still buzzing with lustful energy. And I'll tell you now, it's the repressed ones you gotta bag, because anything that some gay guys won't do because they've had sex enough times to know they don't need to, these closet cases get it in their heads that it's standard, and they get to wanting it more than any well-adjusted and openly gay guy can. I say this because when I scooted myself down a little in the chair and lifted my legs a little, my pants bunched up at my ankles by my boots, I barely even got three words into asking before Dr. Panda had his tongue in my ass. I didn't have to say anything after that; that's the one thing that pure hunger trumps any kind of learned skill any day. No one's shoved their tongue in deeper, no one's licked along my crack, no one's darted their long slimy muscle in and out of my hole faster than that panda, all because years of wanting to forbid him from holding anything back. It truly is like popping champagne. My dick was leaking onto my stomach now, enough that it rolled off to the side and dripped onto the plastic of the chair. My balls bounced on his nose, and I got big balls like heirloom tomatoes or something, just let me get that in right now cause I feel like bragging. They bounced as he attacked my hole with such fervor, licking and sucking, opening his mouth wide to get every bit of tongue in that he could, and he had a big beefy one too, it spread me open wide and he had me fucking drooling in minutes. It was surreal, almost. I'd never had my ass eaten like that; he had me in fucking outer space, I barely noticed when he crawled up onto the chair with me again and pressed his prick against my slick hole.
I told him just a minute, educated him quickly on the phenomenon of friction, and slunk down to wet him. I felt his length rubbing against my body, and it felt thick, but only when I saw it was I awed. For sake of economy of words, and because I really gotta get going soon here: He was fucking huge, ok? Thick, long, curved oh-so-gently up into his own belly, if I weren't such a power bottom I probably would have run screaming. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating a small bit for the guy, he wasn't goddamn John Holmes or anything, but he won. There was a contest in my head and he won.
I was still under him, his cock to my nose. I took a deep breath and swallowed the thing whole. Years of practice, my boys; but I didn't gag a bit and when the marvelous thing touched my tongue I could've stayed under him for hours just slurping away, but the guy seemed to have fucking on his mind, and I didn't want to disappoint him. I got him slick, then crawled back up to meet his face, and he attacked me again with his tongue, making me taste myself as we made out. I lifted my legs high (he had crawled in between them, under the pants that kept my feet together) and helped him guide his dick home. He needed a little bit of help, but he found it soon.
I can't blame the guy for being enthusiastic, but it did startle him when I screamed like that. The second time, he took it slowly, moaning and mumbling satisfaction as he felt my ass squeeze around him. I joined in, grabbing the plastic arm rests and almost putting holes in them with my fingernails, a death grip as I felt the dick pry me open. He was a little cautious now, and I had to whisper to him to go faster, harder, and he did, tentatively at first, then picking up with gusto when he didn't hear any more shouts. It was heaven to feel his husky body on top of me, and I could feel the power of him when he'd thrust, pushing me back on the chair a little bit each time. His burly arms were around me again, half hugging, half holding me in place as he fucked me hard. I egged him on, doing all that dirty talk I love so much. You know, that "harder harder, pound that ass, give me all that dick, slap your balls against me," stuff that's just boring to hear about afterwards but in the moment is just so mind-blowingly hot. He was a good student, too. When I said harder, he fucked harder. When I said more dick, he gave me more dick. When I told him to fuck me like he'd never fucked anyone before, he continued to fuck me as he had been.
His thrusts were awkward, though. He couldn't get into a groove, would hump three times smooth as silk, then suddenly loose track of himself like a confused dancer, have to kind of recalibrate his thrusts and go again. But all of it added to the moment, each little mistake a delightful little reminder of his deflowering. When he'd pull out too far and have to find his spot again, I almost melted every time when with most guys I'd only roll my eyes.
You could tell his confidence had really come when he lifted me out of the chair and practically threw me onto the counter. It was a perfect height for me to bend over it, and the panda took off his scrubs for the first time, which I could see in the mirror before me. His fur was shiny now with a thin film of sweat, the black fur over his chest glistening like a black pearl. I watched him as he took the most control he'd had since I'd put my paws on his belly, he grabbed my shoulders and started slamming into me. I felt bad for the next guy he fucked, if he felt this was how hard most guys like it. But Oh God I was in heaven. I gritted my teeth and grunted with each heavy thrust, my head bobbing with each. My eyes shut tight with intense pangs of passion coursing through my body as the inexperienced panda managed to hit a spot that no one of better skill with a smaller cock could have ever glanced. His balls slapped against mine, I could hear and feel it. Eventually, he bent over me, his weight all on my back, as he nibbled on my ear and rubbed his face in my bright pink hair. His paw reached under me to play with my nipple ring, and I could see him gazing longingly at my face in the mirror, I think almost like he was surprised someone with so many piercings could want and enjoy taking it so harshly in the ass like this. Then again, the clean cut guys always have a thing for us punk guys, you know.
So now I'm practically shouting at him to fuck me, and I would have been quieter, but he didn't tell me to stop so I figured it must not be a problem to yell "pound that asshole, give me every inch of your dick" in his office. The thing is, other than moaning and panting and all those other formless sounds of pleasure, he wasn't saying much at all. Until eventually he just says "Cumming... Cumming!" like I need a warning, and then he shoves his cock in to the balls, makes the most adorable cumming face I've ever seen and begins to shake all over. I clenched my ass, feeling his dick tremor and pulse inside me, and I swear to God I felt him cum in my stomach or something. It was powerful and hot, had he pulled out he might have put it through a wall. Suddenly he was showing me new things, heh? I reached back and grabbed his cheeks, holding him in as I milked him of every last drop. Then he just collapses onto me, whatever weight he'd been supporting himself now all on me.
I enjoyed the feeling for a moment, then worked him back into the chair, laying him down, having to since he had drained himself. I took a seat in the soft spot between this chest and belly. He was practically asleep, his eyes shut, but a low rurring sound kept coming from his muzzle and his head bobbed slowly back and forth, so I knew he was only dazed. I rubbed mine out, shooting a wicked hot, steaming load all over his face, having an effect like a bucket of cold water as he almost shot awake, catching whatever stream he could in his muzzle and licking his fur for anything else he could find. I didn't enjoy my first shot of cum, honestly, but the guy could've been eating chocolate icing the way he licked all of it out of his muzzle, then reached for my cock to polish off the tip until it was red, shiny, and squeaky clean. He couldn't reach all the cum, though, and even after he'd eaten all he could I was proud of how well I'd covered him. If there was ever a time I felt I could be in pornos, it was then. A bucket really was a good use of metaphor earlier.
So then we clean up, I stop being a pussy and let him drill my teeth, and I'll cut my tusks off if a bill for it ever comes.