I was still wiping down the table after Ethan’s brace-damaged dick when Troy poked his head in, eyes wide like he’d just seen a walking rap video.
“Boss… your 3:30 is here and honey, this one’s a whole mood. Name’s Rico. 26-year-old muscular gang banger—covered head to toe in tattoos, gold and diamond chains stacked on his neck, thick bracelets clinking on both wrists, diamond studs in his ears. Got shot a few weeks back, lost one testicle in the process. Today’s bandage removal day, and the way he’s sitting out there? Boy is aching bad. Hasn’t trimmed or nutted in months. Bush is wild, balls heavy, and he’s got that ‘don’t fuck with me’ swagger… but I can tell he’s desperate for some relief.”
I rolled my shoulders, already feeling that dominant alpha energy mix with the protective streak. “Send him back. Let’s take care of our boy.”
The door opened and Rico stepped in—fuck, the man was a walking masterpiece of ink and muscle. 6’1”, thick chest and arms bulging under a tight white tank that showed off every tattoo crawling up his neck, across his pecs, down his abs. Dark olive skin practically glowing under all that gold: heavy chains resting on his tattooed chest, bracelets flashing every time he moved. Low-slung black jeans sagging just enough to show the waistband of his boxers and the top of what looked like a massive, unkempt bush.
He had that hard street edge in his eyes, but there was a hunger underneath as he dapped me up, chains clinking. “Sup, Doc. Rico. They told me you the one who can handle this shit. Got shot, lost a nut, bandage been on for weeks. Haven’t busted in months and my shit is backed up bad. Bush wild, other ball feel like it’s about to explode. Need you to take this wrap off and… handle me right.”
I gave him my cocky, steady grin and motioned to the table. “I got you, big man. Drop the jeans and tank. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
Rico peeled the tank off first, revealing a torso completely covered in intricate tattoos—roses, crosses, gang script, all swirling over thick pecs and a solid six-pack. Then he shoved his jeans and boxers down in one go. His thick, uncut cock flopped out heavy and half-hard already, nestled in a massive, months-old bush of coarse black pubes that spread wild across his groin and up his lower abs. His remaining testicle was swollen and tight, the empty sac on the other side still bandaged. The whole package looked heavy, neglected, and aching.
I gloved up, warmed the lamp, and had him lie back, legs spread wide. “Relax for me, Rico. Gonna take this bandage off slow.”
I carefully peeled the old dressing away, revealing the healed surgical site—clean scar where the testicle used to be, skin still a little sensitive. His one remaining ball hung heavy and full, the skin stretched tight. The second I touched it gently, Rico groaned deep, his thick cock twitching hard and rising straight up, the foreskin peeling back as it swelled to full, veiny thickness.
“Fuck, Doc… been so long. That shit feels too good already.”
I kept my voice low and commanding, one hand gently palpating the remaining ball while the other wrapped around the base of his massive, bushy cock. “You’re healing good, handsome. Scar looks clean. But this other nut? It’s been carrying double duty for weeks. No wonder you’re backed up.”
I started stroking him slow and firm—long, twisting pulls through that thick, untamed pubes, thumb swirling over the leaking head while my fingers rolled his heavy single ball. Rico’s tattooed chest heaved, gold chains shifting with every breath, bracelets clinking as he gripped the sides of the table.
“Shit… Doc, I ain’t nutted since before the shooting. Gon’ be a big one.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I murmured, dominant and protective, speeding up my strokes. “Let it all out, Rico. Empty those heavy balls for me. Show me how much you been holding.”
His muscular body locked up, abs flexing under all that ink, tattoos rippling. A deep, guttural groan ripped out of him as his cock erupted like a fucking firehose—thick, long ropes of cum shooting hard across his tattooed chest and stomach, some hitting the bottom of his gold chains, some splattering into the wild bush at his base. Spurt after powerful spurt, months of pent-up load painting his inked skin while his single ball pulsed in my palm. The smell was raw, masculine, overwhelming.
I kept milking him through every pulse, slow and thorough, until the last weak dribble leaked into his bush. Then I grabbed warm towels and cleaned him up slow—wiping every thick streak off his tattoos, off his heavy cock, off that wild pubes—while my bare hand rested possessive on his thigh.
“Damn, big man,” I said with a cocky grin, voice sweet but firm. “That was a hell of a release. You’re healing clean. Keep the scar moisturized, no heavy lifting for another week, and come back in ten days so I can check that remaining ball and make sure you’re staying properly drained. We can even talk about trimming this jungle if you want… or leave it wild. Your choice.”
Rico sat up slow, still breathing heavy, chains clinking as he looked at me with new respect and heat in his eyes. “Fuck, Doc… nobody ever handled me like that. You got magic hands for real. I’ll be back. Bet.”
He dressed, gold flashing, that swagger a little looser now as he headed out.
Troy slid in right after, fanning himself. “Boss… I heard that load from the lobby. Sounded like a shotgun going off in here. You really just drained a one-balled gang banger like it was nothing.”
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
