Troy slid in with the next file, eyebrows raised high.
“4:45 special, boss. Derek. 40-year-old finance bro—private equity, big money, big stress. Gained a solid twenty pounds since last year, but he’s still hitting the gym enough to look thick instead of soft. Broad chest, solid arms, and a nice soft belly that’s begging to be grabbed. Trims the pubes tight, but that chest hair is all natural and thick. Five-o’clock shadow, receding hairline he’s clearly self-conscious about. Deep in the closet—married to the job, scared shitless of catching anything, so he wants on PrEP. But the real tea? He doesn’t even know if he wants to top or bottom. Keeps saying he’s ‘afraid of missing his window’ before he turns into ‘just another washed-up suit.’ Poor guy’s wound tighter than his quarterly reports.”
I smirked, already feeling that dominant, protective alpha energy lock in. “Send him back. Let’s open that window wide for him.”
Derek walked in looking every bit the high-strung finance guy trying to stay in control. Tallish at 6’2”, broad shoulders filling out a crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, navy slacks hugging thick thighs and that new soft belly. Receding hairline neatly styled, heavy five-o’clock shadow framing a strong jaw. Handsome in that “I close million-dollar deals” kind of way, but his eyes were nervous as hell.
“Dr. Don,” he said, voice clipped but shaky as we shook hands. “I, uh… I need to get on PrEP. I’ve been thinking about… exploring. But I’m careful. I don’t want to catch anything. And I’m not even sure if I’m a top or a bottom. I just feel like my window’s closing, you know? Forty is hitting different.”
I kept my voice low, commanding, but warm—letting him feel the safety of my presence. “Relax, Derek. You’re in good hands. No judgment here. Let’s get the exam done first, then we’ll talk about what you actually need. Shirt off, pants and underwear down. Hop on the table.”
He stripped with stiff, efficient movements. The shirt came off to reveal a thick, powerful chest covered in a dense mat of natural dark chest hair that swirled over his pecs and down onto that soft, rounded belly. Arms still cut from the gym, but the new weight sat nice and heavy on him—thick love handles, a solid dad-bod gut that looked warm and grabbable. Below the belt, his pubes were trimmed short and neat, framing a thick, uncut cock that was already starting to chub up from nerves. Heavy balls hanging below, dusted with the same trimmed hair.
I gloved up, warmed the lamp, and had him lie back. “Deep breaths, big guy. Gonna check everything.”
I started at his chest, running my hands through that thick natural hair, feeling his heart hammering. Then lower—palpating the soft belly, letting my fingers sink in just enough to make him twitch. When I reached his groin, I cupped his heavy balls and gave them a slow roll. His trimmed cock thickened fast, pushing out of the foreskin, the head flushing as it rose toward his belly.
“See?” I murmured, voice cocky and reassuring, wrapping my fingers around the base and giving one long, firm stroke. “Your body’s not missing any windows. It’s just been waiting for someone who knows how to open them.”
Derek’s breath hitched, that soft belly rising and falling quicker. “Doc… fuck, I haven’t let anyone touch me like this in years.”
I kept stroking—slow, confident pulls, thumb swirling over the leaking head while my other hand massaged his balls and teased through the trimmed pubes. “You don’t have to decide top or bottom right now, Derek. Some guys like both. Some like getting taken care of. You’re allowed to explore without the fear. That’s why you’re here.”
His thick thighs tensed, love handles jiggling slightly as his hips bucked. The receding hairline was damp with sweat now, five-o’clock shadow dark against flushed skin. “I… I think I might like…”
“Let go first,” I ordered softly but firmly, tightening my grip, stroking faster. “Cum for me, finance bro. Show me you’re still alive down here.”
Derek’s eyes rolled back. A deep, guttural groan ripped out of him as his cock erupted—thick, white ropes shooting hard across that hairy chest and soft belly, painting the natural hair in messy streaks. One heavy spurt even landed on the underside of his chin. His whole thick body shuddered, belly quivering with every pulse while he whimpered through the longest orgasm he’d probably had in years.
I milked him through every drop, then grabbed warm towels and cleaned him slow—wiping every streak off his chest hair, off that soft gut, off his still-twitching cock.
Derek sat up, chest heaving, looking at me with a mix of relief and raw hunger in his eyes. “Jesus, Doc… I think I needed that more than the PrEP.”
I smirked, helping him back into his slacks, giving that soft belly one last appreciative squeeze. “Damn right you did. Book your follow-up in two weeks. We’ll start opening that window nice and wide.”
He left with a straighter spine and a visible tent reforming in his slacks.
Troy poked his head in right after, grinning. “Another one bites the dust, huh? You turning this practice into a full-service relief station?”
I just winked, already thinking about how good Derek’s thick, hairy chest and soft belly would feel pressed against me next time. “Just keeping my patients functioning, Troy. Just keeping them functioning.”
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
