So I was running a little behind, having a release today and, still needing to go make the husband’s morning hell. But I did whip up this little story, it’s by no mean perfect, and I still haven’t had nearly enough coffee and *coughs* tequila.

 

But here it is, well part of it,  you’ll need to go read the rest on my blog page.

 

Next time, I’ll have something more interesting to say, promise,  but for today here’s MR.Holt

 

  

 

“Mr. Grayson Holt, you can go through, sir. The doctor’s waiting for you.”

 

Grayson had to put force on the minuscule chair’s arms as he got up to prevent the thing from going with him. His size had always been an issue; airplanes, theater seats, even restaurant chairs practically sighed when he approached them. Door frames were no different. He swore they became smaller over the years. Either construction companies wanted to save costs, or the human race was becoming shorter. He was definitely not getting any taller. Older yes, as evidenced by the white-silver fur that seemed to spring up out of nowhere in the center of his chest the last number of full moon cycles.

 

As he walked the familiar hallway of Dr. Darcy’s office, he took in the gray walls and blue carpeting that had stayed the same since his first visit at the age of six. The only things that had changed were the receptionists. They seemed to get younger by the decade, and doctor Darcy himself?

 

Now there was a man that wore his age well. Attractive, even in his 70s, Dr. Darcy’s black hair had grayed and eventually turned silver over the years, but no sign of balding. Unlike Grayson, who had been forced to start shaving his scalp around the age of twenty-four. The age wrinkles did appear but not as prominent as most men the doctor’s age, and Doc’s skin, healthy; almost flawless. It was always a welcoming sight to see the doctor on Grayson’s yearly check up. Over the years, they had become more friends than doctor and patient.

 

“Hank, how’re you today?” Grayson said as he entered the room. He froze. It wasn’t Dr. Darcy sitting in the chair, but a midnight-black, mop of hair bearing charcoal-rimmed glasses and blue eyes, a Greek nose and low cheekbones.

 

“Where’s Dr. Darcy?” Grayson growled and narrowed his eyes at the handsome, slightly familiar looking imposter. There was no mistake that the stranger and Dr. Darcy looked nothing alike.

 

“Mr. Holt,” the suave voice spoke, he got out of the chair and extended thin pale fingers, “I am Dr. Darcy—”  

 

“The fuck you are, boy!” Grayson sneered at the doctor.

 

“As I was saying, I am Dr. Darcy’s temporary stand in. Please, sir, take a seat.” The shit indicated with his hand. Grayson didn’t fail to notice the flash of ink creeping out from under the man’s cuff.

 

With effort, he walked over and sat. This was just utter bullshit. The last five years, the small town of Herbindy he had grown up in had seen so much change it was heartbreaking. Grayson never did well with change. Big corporations moved in and swept up small businesses that had been in the town’s community for generations. They bought them out and set up chain stores, paying minimum wages and shitty benefits to town folk that had put blood, sweat, and tears into building businesses, only for them to be torn down in a matter of days.

 

“Are you alright, Mr. Holt?”

 

“I’m fine!” Grayson snapped, causing the young doctor to flinch.

 

He pondered an apology but kept his mouth shut. Dr. Darcy had more experience than this snotty punk  across from him.

 

“You really don’t remember me, Mr. Holt?” the Doc said, his voice on the thick side.

 

That drew Grayson’s attention, only to see the shit flash him a sad smile. “You still don’t smile.”

 

Grayson glared, his nostril flaring and lips drawing tight. If the doctor opposite him knew Grayson, he would also know not to poke at Grayson’s temper.

 

Grayson stood, “Can we get this done and over, I have shit to do,” and walked up to the examining bed and pulled off his shirt, causing his nipples to pull tight from the cold air in the room.

 

“Yes, of course.” The doctor stood and came towards him. “You still own the mechanic shop on Old Sparrow Road, Mr. Holt?” The doctor reached for the stethoscope around his neck. Grayson knew the man was making small talk, but he had a devious plan forming in his head.

 

“Yes. How naked do you need me, doctor?” Grayson grinned, drawing out the last word slowly.

 

Calmly, the doctor smiled, placing the ear tips in his ears, and the chest piece over Grayson’s heart.

“Let’s take your heart rate and blood pressure, then see if we need to take matters further. Inhale please.”

 

The doctor moved the chest piece as Grayson took a breath and exhaled, though, he was beginning to question his own motives. One, the shit wasn’t easily tussled, and two and three, his heart strummed a bit faster to the man’s touch, causing him to spring a semi in his jeans. He blamed it on the fact, that it had been too long since he’s been this close to a man he found attractive.

 

By the time the doctor took his blood pressure and sugar, Grayson had enough interval to fully take in the man. His breath smelled of sweet butterscotch-mint, the faint scent of citrus clung to the man’s skin, mixed with the doctor’s own aroma. The doctor wasn’t so much little as he was lean. Grayson placed him a foot shorter than himself. The lips very kissable, and the hair just the right length to grasp and skull-fuck, watching those beautiful blue eyes tear and listen to him gag… shit! It really had been a long time since Grayson had some nasty. The evidence strained hard in his pants, and the torture continued when the doctor reached out and explored the skin around his right nipple. Stupid electric sparks squealed down his spine, taking up residence in his over-full and painfully heavy balls at the man’s gentle touch.

 

Grayson tensed, words of protest ready to blow from his mouth when the doctor spoke.

“Just checking for lumps, Mr. Holt, relax. Breast cancer has been on the increase in men, I’m just covering all areas.”

 

The doctor removed his hand from Grayson’s right breast and assessed the left.

 

When done, he reached up feeling the lymph nodes in Grayson’s neck. “You’re very warm, Mr. Holt.  Do you have any hot flashes of late? Headaches, trouble sleeping, depression and decrease in your sex drive?” The doctor didn’t even waiver asking, nor looked down at Grayson.

 

Grayson’s teeth were going to need a fucking dentist if the handsome shit didn’t stop touching his skin anytime soon.

 

“If you’re askin’ if my dick’s broken, no. I ain’t got no problem gettin’ it up!” Anger, humiliation, and something he couldn’t quite name, burned in Grayson’s cheeks. “Are we quite done, doctor?” he croaked. This  shit stranger proclaiming to know him was making Grayson feel nervous. Dr. Darcy would never have fussed with all this nonsense. Grayson wanted out of the room. Now!

 

“Not quite, drop your pants for me, underwear too.”

 

Fuckin’ shit! How was he going to explain a full erection?

 

“Is there a problem, Mr. Holt?” The doctor looked up from the chart he was writing on and met Grayson’s steel gaze.

 

“No.” And with that Grayson stood, undid his belt and let his jeans drop to the floor. There was no need for underwear since he didn’t bother to wear any, but he wasn’t prepared for his cock getting caught on the hem of the denim, causing his dick to bob up and down. A single pearl of precum dripped from his slit.

 

Bastard! Fourteen years of using his hand and one intimate checkup with a handsome shit had his dick, not just hard, but slobbering too.

 

“Oh…” The doctor swallowed, his gazed fixed on Grayson’s cock as it stood hard, veiny and leaking. “I, um…” the doctor’s cheeks burned crimson.

 

“Problem, doctor?” Grayson gritted.

 

“No… I can give you a minute to uh—”

 

“Would you just get it over with?” Grayson snapped, flexing his fist.

 

The doctor bent before him, turning his head sideways either out of embarrassment or decency. Grayson didn’t want to know and neither did he care as he averted his eyes to the ceiling. His body gave an uncontrolled shudder when trembling fingers cupped his heavy sac. He was seriously going the have a major case of blue balls after this whole visit, all thanks to the sensation of the little shit’s hand on his nuts. Though he had to smirk. He wasn’t the only one being affected.

“I’m going to send you for a testosterone count, just to make sure, Mr. Holt.” The voice coming from down under was taut.

 

Grayson gloated. He knew he was fucking well hung. Still got it, you old dog!

Before he could take a step back, the doctor stood not only bringing his face inches from Grayson’s, but causing something to brush against Grayson’s cock, drawing a deep, silent gape from him. Grayson looked down expecting it to be a hand only to find the doctor’s own pants tenting, and a stain of what Grayson could only assume was his own precum seeping through the man’s khaki slacks.

 

“I… Eh, sorry,” the doctor said, blushing. Grayson had never seen a person manage to flush that bright. The doctor turned around.

 

“Well, well, well,” Grayson huffed, pulling up his jeans and fastening his belt. “Dr. Darcy’s ‘little stand-in’ has a secret. Isn’t that just—”

 

“Mr. Holt!” The doctor turned, his eyes appearing darker. “My sexuality has never mattered to my family or Dr. Darcy, and they are quite aware that I take it up the ass. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you’re not going to blackmail me just because I sprang an erection. They happen, sometimes unexpectedly. As with your own.”

 

Grayson was taken aback by the doctor’s sudden change of demeanor.

 

“I don’t take kindly to threats or ones toward my family and friends—”

 

“I wasn’t, never mind, Doc, sorry. You have a good day.”

 

Grayson snatched his shirt off the bed and advanced to the door.

 

“Please wait, Mr. Holt.” The defensiveness in the doctor’s tone was gone. Grayson halted as he gripped the door handle, knuckles white from his clutch.

 

“Please take this with you for the blood test. I made sure with the reception desk not to charge you, I’ll make the same arrangements for the test.”

 

Great, now the little shit knew he was a poor ass son of a bitch too, what next?

 

He turned and snatched the document from the doctor, offering him a scowl.

 

“You have a pleasant day, Mr. Holt.” The little shit gave him a handsome smile.

Grayson would most likely not, nor plan on ever setting foot in that office again.

 

CHAPTER TWO

Wulf Francu Godgluck

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