CHAPTER TWELVE Benedict

A gnes slid a file under my nose and then stood back, her arms crossed. Charles Brewster was the name written on the tab.

"He goes by Charlie or Skeeter, your choice," she said. "He's arrogant, promiscuous, full of himself, and he's my grandson. Make of that what you will," she added.

I looked up from my desk, pushing one file away and grabbing her grandson's. The file was surprisingly thick. My eyes scanned the first page and then I leafed through several more, eventually going back nearly thirty years.

"He was three months old?" I asked, shocked by the written history. The clinic had no database or computer-filed records. I'd noticed perhaps six or seven different doctors' handwritten notes. "All of his care has been here?"

"Every single time except when he had his appendix out at seventeen," Agnes responded.

"He appears healthy according to the notes," I said, rifling through dozens of test results. "Last blood check was good. Weight to height is good. Why's he coming in?"

"Annual," she replied. "Like clockwork. The kid never misses his annual physical. He doesn't let me do it, but he is punctual, nonetheless."

"Blood, urine, the works?"

"Every single thing. He wants the works. Up to, and including, a prostate examination."

"At his age?" I asked.

"Since he got hair on his nuts," she so delicately stated. "His daddy died from prostate cancer. He's a bit of a hypo, but he does appreciate a good examination."

"When?"

"He's in the waiting room. Don't be fooled by his good looks, doc. He's a waste of your energy."

What Agnes didn't know was that I'd already met her grandson at his gas station. She was right, he was a looker. He wasn't my type, but he definitely might be worth another look. The advantage I had this time was that I was about to get an up close and very personal view of the merchandise.

"Please put him in room 2," I said.

She glared at me. "You want me to room your patient?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. We spoke about this yesterday. I consider rooming to be your job."

"Why? Because I'm the nurse and you're the doctor?"

"Exactly," I replied, closing Charlie's file and returning her glare. "Those are our roles, correct?"

When I didn't look away from her glare, something I don't think happened to her often, she grunted and grabbed his file, stomping to the door to the patient waiting room. She turned back before pushing the door open. "Don't fall for his bullshit, doc. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor. Charlie!" she yelled through the door.

I got up and went to room 3 to check on the patient scheduled before her grandson. Mr. Luden was here for his A1C check. An insulin-controlled diabetic, he got the blood test every three months. I had a new recommendation for his treatment protocol that I felt would keep his glucose level at a healthy number. The last doctor was good, but he was also old-school. Mr. Luden would do well to add the latest diabetic medication to his routine.

A knock on the door alerted me that Charlie had been roomed and was ready to be seen. "Nurse Agnes will see to the new prescription now that I've signed this, sir," I said, writing an update in Mr. Luden's file.

"She's not a doctor?" he asked.

"Agnes is an RN," I answered. "A very skilled nurse, but not a doctor."

"Hmmm," he mused. "I thought she was a doctor." His eyes narrowed while his lips drew into a pinch. "She stuck her finger up my arse once. I wished I'd known that sooner."

"Oops," I quipped.

" Oops? How old are you, kid?" Mr. Luden inquired. "You look sixteen."

"Old enough to have graduated med school," I replied. "And I'm over sixteen. Promise."

"You looking for a lady friend?" he asked, putting his shirt back on. "My daughter is still single. Not sure why exactly, to tell ya the truth. I think a gal with a little extra cushion on her is a good thing in the cold winters we have around here."

"I'm focused on my first year of practice."

"So coming over for dinner is out of the question, doc?"

"For now, yes," I said. "But thank you for thinking of me."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're polite, son?" he asked, standing near the door. "Not in that fake polite way, either. I suppose I'm saying you got manners."

"Well, thank you, sir."

As soon as I walked out of the exam room, Agnes pointed to another. I raised a finger and pointed to the bathroom. Before I went to examine Charlie, I wanted to check a mirror for some odd reason. I'd seen him once before and knew he was smoking hot. I wanted to look my best too.

Knocking on the exam room door before entering, I waited for the patient to respond. Charlie invited me in after the knock, so I took a deep breath and opened the door. Charlie sat on the examination table, buck naked. Not a stitch of clothing. However, he was wearing a wide grin.

I quickly turned away and pretended to be organizing the small desk that was behind me. "The robes are right next to you on that counter," I stated, pointing over my shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. But why bother, right? You're gonna want me naked in a minute, anyway."

"If you're comfortable," I agreed.

I spun around after sitting on the rolling stool that had been under the desk, scooting toward him. He made zero effort to cover his privates. I was eye level to quite a specimen of manhood. After a four-year residency and one year doing a fellowship, this wasn't my first penis by a long mile. However, this example was picture-perfect. The view wasn't hurt by the fact a stunning body was attached to a perfect cock.

"Are you going to use the stirrups?" he asked. "You know, in case you need a better view."

I figured he was messing with me. He was the exact same man he'd been the day I met him at his gas station. A bit mischievous, a lot mouthy, full of himself, and extremely sexy. My eyes traveled up his abdomen, which was tight despite being slightly bent forward. Even his obliques teased me with the way they carved a valley that led to the prize directly in front of my eyes. I suddenly realized that my position on the stool would be an incredibly hot position from which to blow him.

I shook the sexual fantasy from my brain. "We don't use stirrups for male patients getting physicals," I informed him.

"That's a shame," he stated. "I have a feeling you'd enjoy the view."

I brought my iciest glare to my face. "This isn't a gas station, Mr. Brewster. This is a doctor's office. A doctor's office where your grandmother is employed. So, I would appreciate you acting like an adult, if you can do that."

"You're uptight, doc."

"You're welcome to find another physician," I declared, beginning to roll the stool back to the desk to make my point that I was more than willing to end his appointment.

He threw himself back, laying on the exam table, spreading his legs, and fully exposing himself even more. "Fine," he whined. "Get started."

I stood and made my way to the side of the table, doing my best to not stare at his ample dick. If this was flaccid, what was erect? His eyes were closed, so I suppose I could practically accost him with my eyes, but that was unprofessional. I grabbed a small pillow, lifting the back of his head and placed it under his neck.

His eyes popped open just as mine was exploring his torso. I cleared my throat and turned to him. "Do you have any health concerns, Mr. Brewster?"

He stifled a laugh. "I have a concern that if you don't loosen up with your bedside manner and start calling folks by their first names, you're gonna be run out of town quicker than a rabid raccoon."

"What would you like me to call you?" I asked, palpating his abdomen to check for masses and tenderness. "How is this?" I asked before he answered me. "Any discomfort?"

"I'd like you to call me Daddy," he quipped. "And the only discomfort is that you're not naked too." I stepped back and leaned against the counter, crossing my arms. "Uh-oh! The doctor looks mad," he joked.

Tilting my head toward the door, making sure he was looking at me, I spoke calmly. "That will be the last one, Mr. Brewster. If you cannot be respectful and treat my time as important to you, we can end this examination. At which point, I will make a permanent notation in your file that states that you will no longer be welcome in this clinic. Do you understand me, sir?"

"You don't like me, do you?" he asked.

"I don't know you well enough to answer that question, sir."

"But you're leaning toward not liking me, right?"

"I'm here to assist you with your health needs, Mr. Brewster. Nothing more. Nothing less."

He sat up, still unconcerned with where his cock flopped. He was stunning up close, and I felt the slightest bead of sweat forming on my upper lip and forehead. He'd gotten to me. Having him on the exam table was difficult. I'd seen young men that skateboard or surf on television. The types that have zero body fat and look a bit dirty for some reason. Dirty, but hotter than a human should be allowed to look. He was that young man, and here he was in front of me, practically inviting me to jump his bones.

"Call me Charlie," he said quietly. "I'll behave," he added.

I didn't respond, but instead proceeded with his examination. I listened to his heart with my stethoscope and then moved it to his back, where I had him inhale and exhale, listening for his lung function. Moving to his front, I lifted his chin and felt for the glands in his neck.

"Please open your mouth," I said, lifting his chin again as he opened wide. He had perfect teeth, previously hidden by thick and pillowy lips. "Say ahh , please." I tapped his chin and released my grip, turning to face the counter to make notes.

"Will I live?" he asked.

"You appear to be in excellent shape, Charlie," I explained, softening my posture and tone of voice. I turned back to him and made my way to where his legs hung over the exam table, nudging his knees apart. His eyes widened as he watched me carefully. If I allowed myself to, I could have swum in his eyes for days. He was heavy lidded, dreamy actually, and the color of blue was brilliant. A robin's egg color.

"What's next?" he asked, breathing deep before slowly inhaling.

"Do you perform self-exams?" I asked.

"Like on my junk?"

"Your testicles, yes," I corrected. "Do you examine them in the shower periodically to check for any abnormal growths that feel like they're in your scrotum and shouldn't be there?"

"I do not."

I reached forward and held his scrotum, seeking his testicles individually and rolling them around in my hand while I looked past him, over his shoulder, and at the wall. Because I wasn't looking at his privates, something not needed as I used my hands to make a determination, I was caught off guard when his thick erection flopped against my forearm.

"Sorry, doc," he whispered. "That felt… uhm… felt… unexpectedly good."

I glanced down at his engorged cock. The purple head of it had expanded to plum size and his testicles had shrunk up after he became hard. "Normal," I stated. "It happens," I added, doing my best to stay focused, even though his cock had me excited. "Please stand and then turn around and lean over the table."

Charlie slid off the exam table, his cock bouncing up and down, the tip going higher than his naval. I gulped, hopefully silently. He bent over the exam table and spread his stance apart. I wasn't a top, but holy fuck, he had a stunning ass. His ass was smooth and white, rock solid, with tan lines in the perfect place to accentuate incredibly muscled ass cheeks.

"Be gentle, doc," he said, turning back over his shoulder and grinning. "I know. I know," he corrected. "Just asking as a patient. Not a creep."

He flinched when I snapped the latex fingers of my glove. Reaching to my left for the KY Jelly on the countertop, I untwisted the tube and squeezed an ample amount on my index finger.

"Please, just relax," I said, laying a hand on his lower back to support him. "You will feel my finger going in as I examine your prostate, but I will be careful."

Locating his anus, I gently pushed past his resistance and gave him a moment to breathe before I continued my examination. Based on my professional experience, he was not an experienced bottom. He was as resistant as I had expected. I probed delicately in search of his prostate, moving in a circle and proceeding further into him.

Charlie's stance shifted, and he gently moved his hips while I continued to locate his prostate. I wasn't sure if I was nervous, but I was having trouble finding his gland. What was probably only a few seconds felt like minutes before I found what I was looking for.

The moment I pressed on the gland, he involuntarily convulsed. "Oh, fuck!" he cried out, gripping the edges of the exam table and tremoring. "Shit! I just came!" he exclaimed, backing away from the table and standing upright.

I glanced down at his dripping cock, his thighs, and the floor splattered with his semen. "Do you orgasm this easily as a norm?" I inquired, desperate to keep things professional. "Please don't be embarrassed, Charlie. You wouldn't be the first to react this way."

He grinned and locked eyes with me. "Trust me, I am not embarrassed. That was fucking incredible."

I tossed the lubed glove into the small trash receptacle and grabbed his file. "Get dressed," I said. "Nurse Agnes will draw your blood."

"Would this be an awkward time to ask you for a date?"

I walked out the door, leaning against the wall of the main office area. Agnes watched as I exhaled and closed my eyes for a moment, trying my hardest to shake off what had just happened.

"I warned you, doc."