Scruff’s the Cure
A patient with a bent cock discovers that his hunky doctor is also his Scruff flirt in this doctor/patient sex story by Doctor Jackman.
Scruff’s the Cure
by Doctor Jackman
My phone beeped as I sat in the waiting room. I tapped my foot nervously as I looked around me. Everyone else here was on their phones, why shouldn’t I be? I opened my Scruff app, leaving a trail of sweat across the screen as my palms continued to push the hot liquid out of me. Anxiety sucks.
I smiled as Axel’s profile pic popped onto my screen—a green dragon tattooed across the upper left quadrant of his metallic brown chest. Its tail was a long string of barbed wire that twirled around the dragon and ran down the whole length of his arm, finishing at his wrist. Axel was a bad ass.
As usual, he’d sent me a close-up of his body. This time it was a picture of something dark pink and shiny and… I chuckled when I realized what it was. The tip of his cock stared at me full across my screen. I looked around once more to make sure no one was watching and scrolled through the rest of my pictures.
It was strange being so horny for someone but not knowing what he actually looked like, save for these little bits and pieces he chose to send. I still had no idea what his face looked like. I had to admit, the mystery was working hard to thicken my desire for him. So far, Axel had sent me a pic of his chest, his tongue, his testicles, and now the head of his cock. I wondered what I should send to him. His text popped up under the picture.
“Tit for tat?”
My smile faded. All week long, Axel had been sending me little hints that he’d like to check out my goods as well. I’d been okay with sending him the pic of my creamy white chest, my buttery smooth underarms, even my ass cheek with the oddly shaped birthmark that looked like a gondola, but I drew the line at my cock. At least, until I sorted out my little problem…
“Sean Copeland,” a nurse called. I stood and watched as a mother sitting with her toddler glued her eyes to my ass. I walked through the door, happy that I had such a tight ass that it could make a mother’s head spin, and followed the nurse down the hall. She checked the usual shit. Weight. Height. Blood pressure.
“You seem healthy enough to me,” she said, batting her long lashes in my direction. “What are you here to see the doctor about exactly? My chart just says ‘abdominal issues.’ “
My stomach gurgled as my nerves kicked in. “Er, yes, that’s right. Abdominal issues.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Um… stuff in, you know, my abdomen.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes at me. “Constipation?” I shook my head. “Diarrhea?” I shook it again. “Can you be any more specific?” she asked, slightly exasperated.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Abdominal stuff.”
She sighed, added something to my chart, and handed me a gown to put on.
“Dr. Mendez will be right in.”
I hated the stupid gowns they give you, as if they covered anything with their sheer fabric and open back that revealed all. I slid my pants to the floor but left my underwear on, and put the gown over me. A moment later there was a knock on the door.
“I’m ready,” I called.
The door opened and a tall, good looking Hispanic man entered the room. His hair was black and his eyes were so dark I almost couldn’t see his pupils, except for the hint of butterscotch I saw licking their edges. His white lab coat contrasted enticingly against his chestnut skin. It looked like he’d spent all day in the sun instead of inside a hospital room. He was an exciting, imposing figure, the kind of man other men didn’t want their wives anywhere near.
“Hello, Mr. Copeland, I’m Dr. Alejandro Mendez.”
His accent was subtle. Wherever he was from, he must’ve moved when here was very young. In his late thirties now, he had an air of confidence when he approached me that squelched some of my nerves, though not enough of them.
“Hi,” I said and sat staring at him from the chair I’d elected to station myself in. My hands gripped the edges of my chair, turning my knuckles white.
“Why don’t you tell what brought you in today,” he said, taking a seat in the chair opposite me. He flipped the chair around so that the back of it was facing me, then swung one long leg over the seat so that he was straddling it, his legs spread nice and wide. His sun-kissed skin crinkled right between his eyebrows. He seemed to be studying me.
“Well, I, err, that is…”
“Now, Mr. Copeland—”
He smiled at me, his perfect pink lips opening wide and exposing a row of even, white teeth. Somehow, even his teeth were sexy. “Sean, you have nothing to fear here in this room. I am here to help you.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off his rust colored hands. I stumbled over my words, my heart racing. I hadn’t told anyone my secret. I’d been too embarrassed. I wasn’t sure I could tell it to this man before me now.
He stood up, towering over me with his six-foot-four-inch frame. “You can call me… Doctor,” he said, a salacious smile playing across his lips. The timbre of his voice when he told me to call him doctor made the hairs on my arm stand on end. My creamy skin began to prick up in goosebumps. I liked a man with confidence. A man who could dominate.
“Sorry,” I continued, “Doctor.”
“Why don’t I just listen to your chest first,” he said, moving swiftly over to me. “Stand up.” It was an order. I did as I was told. “You can stand right where you are, if you want. For this part, at least.” I blinked, wondering what he meant by that. “Do you mind if I remove your gown before I examine you? I hate the feel of this coarse fabric brushing over my skin.”
He didn’t wait for my answer, he simply yanked the gown off me as my hands tried to cling tightly to its border. The only thing I had on now was my underwear. They were nothing special. A pair of dark blue boxers that left plenty of room in there for my… little problem.
Dr. Mendez circled me like a vulture surveying its prey before stopping directly behind me. I rose my arms over my head and started playing with my hair—a strange nervous habit I’d developed as a child. “You shave your underarms?” he asked, observing my smooth, creamy skin. His voice deepened. There was something lascivious about the way he posed the question.
“Yeah. I’m a bicyclist, so I like to be hairless.”
“Reeeally?” He asked, drawing out the word.
He moved closer, his core pressing against my backside. I felt his hot breath on my neck as he leaned over me. His muscular hands reached around and touched my chest with his stethoscope. That’s when I saw it. The black ink poked out from under the cuff of his white lab coat, twisting its sharp edges over his dark bronze skin, stopping at his wrist. The tattoo formed the very bottom of a chain of barbed wire.
I held my breath as I replayed the pictures Axel had sent me through my mind. I knew his barbed wire tattoo well. I’d jerked off to that picture a thousand times since he’d sent it. But that was Axel, this was… Alejandro. Doctor Alejandro.
The cold metal of the stethoscope lay gently atop my milky chest. The hard planes of my abdomen rose and fell, faster and deeper with each new movement Dr. Mendez made from behind me. His breath was so hot and heavy it was almost wet against my skin.
“Good,” he finally said, pulling away from me. “Everything sounds fine. Now, why don’t you tell me this secret problem you’re having?”
I felt the crimson flow into my cheeks and tried to fight it back. “My um… my cock,” I finally spit out.
He raised one dark eyebrow, his eyes glowing. “What about it?”
“It, um… it kind of does this,” I finally said, raising my hand and extending my index finger, curling it slowly up towards the ceiling so that it formed a sort of J shape.
“Interesting,” he said, his rich voice floated into my ears and made my thighs clench. “I’ll have to look at it to know for sure what’s going on.”
This time, there was no fighting the blush in my cheeks. “I, uh, I…” I looked down towards the floor, staring at the small, almost undetectable lump in my boxer shorts where my cock curved ever so slightly upwards.
“You came here for help. Let me help you.” He brushed his soft, dark hand over my snowy skin, stroking my arm. I was so light I looked like a vampire next to him.
Reluctantly, I pushed my underwear to the floor, but my hands instinctively moved to cover my cock, embarrassed by the problem at hand. I spun around so that my ass was facing him and my cock was facing the wall. I didn’t think I could show him.
“Interesting birthmark there,” he said, slapping my tight, buttery ass. “It looks like a gondola.” I jumped when he reached out and touched my cream-colored cheeks with his sunburnt hand. He slowly traced my birthmark from side to side with one, long, thick finger. His skin felt like satin as he moved slowly across my ass, then traced an invisible line that led between my ass cheeks. He withdrew his hand before spreading them open.
“Would it help if I showed you something of mine first?” he asked.
I shrugged, turned on and embarrassed at the same time. “Maybe.”
I heard the zipper of his pants before I saw it. When I turned to look, my eyes popped out of my head. His cock was massive. It stretched long and wide between his tight, toned thighs. His balls were the same deep caramel as the rest of him. I blinked uncertainly as I stared at the perfect pink tip which seemed to stretch towards me. I could swear it was the same tip Axel had just sent me a pic of in the waiting room. I would have recognized that shine anywhere.
“Now it’s your turn,” he said, his voice low and steady. His accent made his voice that much more erotic.
“Yes, Mr. Mendez,” I said.
“Doctor!” he snapped, slapping my chest with his golden-brown hand.
“Doctor,” I repeated. Slowly, I uncovered my cock. I tried not to look at my thick, long shaft or the creamy, delicate skin with the pink and purple veins flowing beneath it. The way the tip of my cock curved up towards the ceiling made my cheeks burn so red I knew I must look like an over powdered drag queen.
He stared at my cock a moment before smiling.
“Just as I suspected. You have a slight case of Peyronie’s Disease.”
“There’s a name for this?” I asked, relieved to hear he didn’t think I was a freak.
“Of course. It’s an abnormal curvature of the shaft of the penis. Fibrous scar tissue develops inside the tip and causes a curve. It usually happens after some type of injury, unless you haves some underlying medical condition.”
I shook my head, relief washing over me. It was strange to be having this conversation with a doctor whose balls were hanging out in the open. “I was playing football a while back and…”
He nodded with understanding. “Usually, we don’t recommend treating it unless it’s severe. Tell me, does it hurt when you have sex?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
My faced glowed like the surface of Mars. “I haven’t had sex since this started. I’ve been… embarrassed.”
“I understand, but in order to know the severity of your problem I need to know how you respond to sexual stimuli.” As he was saying this, he took off his white lab coat and laid it gently over the back of a chair. He unbuttoned the first several buttons of his shirt, exposing his solid, muscular chest to me. A green dragon tattoo, encircled with thick, black, barbed wire, peered back at me. My jaw dropped open.
“When I want to be. But here at work, it’s Doctor. And you’ll do as the Doctor tells you. I need to finish examining you. Now bend over.”
“Bend over!” he snapped, slapping my ass hard enough to leave an imprint. I turned and leaned against the hospital bed, feeling exposed and aroused at the same time. I couldn’t believe this was the same man I’d been texting with all week. He stood behind me, his strong, dark hand wrapping around my front and gently touching the tip of my cock.
“Does this hurt?” I asked.
“No,” I told him. My shaft thickened slightly as he moved the fingers of his right hand up and over it, rubbing it gently.
“I need to know how it feels when you’re erect,” he told me.
I couldn’t hide my embarrassment. I’d jerked off several times in the last two weeks. The curve at the tip of my cock made the whole thing look funny and I didn’t want anyone to see it. Especially him.
“I’ve jerked off plenty,” I told him. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“I need to make sure.” He grabbed a bottle of KY from off a tray and I heard the familiar squirt as he spread it over both of his hands.
I tried to push his right hand away as it wrapped around me but his left hand slapped my ass so hard it tingled. His thick, brown fingers moved up and down my shaft while his left hand reached between my ass cheeks.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Distracting you while I finish the examination.”
He wrapped my cock in his right palm as he slathered my ass with the jelly. His fingers worked swiftly over my cock as it grew three sizes. The curve of my tip became more pronounced and my cheeks reddened.
“It’s okay,” he told me, sensing my embarrassment. “It makes you unique. Does it hurt?”
“No,” I whispered, my voice husky.
His left hand worked its way deeper between my butt cheeks, spreading them far and wide as he covered my snug little opening with the cold, slippery KY. My back stiffened as he prepped my opening, inserting first one, then two fingers inside my hole. I felt my skin stretch as he worked his thick, able fingers deeper into me. All the while he was still massaging my cock.
My fat cock throbbed under his touch now as his hand stroked my shaft. He moved faster and faster, playing with my curve like it was an amusement park ride and not something to be disgusted by. His thick, brown thumb deftly circled my light pink tip, tracing the strange curve up and down, back and forth, exploring the erotic side of deformation.
“Does that feel okay?” he asked.
It was then I felt the tip of his cock press against my opening, brushing me lightly with his hard on. I sighed softly and he slapped my ass. Slowly, my hole expanded, welcoming his cock as it slipped inside me. I felt his blood pulse through the thin layer of skin that made up his shaft. He pressed himself deeper into me, rocking his hips back and forth as I tried to stay on my feet. His hand continued running up and over my cock, pulling at me like I was made of elastic, stretching my cock further than I would have thought possible.
The curve at the tip grew as my cock became even more engorged, and I was shocked to feel a wave of deep arousal wash over me. His hand kept rubbing that curve, as though his long, swift strokes were nourishment for my cock. My tight, creamy ass jiggled as he began to pound his cock deep inside of my opening. There were three short bursts where he moved quickly in and out of me, followed by one long, hard thrust, which made my eyes roll into the back of my head.
My knees began to buckle as his cock grew inside me, filling my cavity with his full shaft as he bottomed out in me. Loud slapping sounds exploded in the room as his body hit mine, again and again.
Suddenly, a hot stream of liquid erupted both inside me and out of me. I saw my shimmery juice run over his dark hands, glistening like he had Vaseline smeared across his skin. His sizzling juice heated my insides and he pumped into me one last time, making sure he’d drained every ounce he had into my tight, perfect ass.
When he finally pulled out, I felt a void where his cock had just been. He offered me a towel and we cleaned up.
“Your cock seems just fine to me,” he said. “You should be relieved. The Peyronie’s you have is mild.”
I nodded, my mind trying to wrap around the idea that a curve in my cock could feel so pleasurable.
“Now, the next time I send you a picture,” he growled, slapping my ass just before I pulled my pants up to my hips. “You respond in kind. Got it… patient?”