He stood outside the door for a few seconds, listening to Marcus move. The swish of the towel.
The rough cotton up against his balls, the water droplets caught on the mushroom head of his c**k…
Marcus grunted—probably in pain—and David made himself move to the desk.
The grunt reminded him of sexier sounds. He was usually very vocal—girls he’d been with often teased him about it.
Can I make him scream?
David cleared off Marcus’s desk and arranged his tools on a clean towel, his hands shaky. He was adjusting the desk lamp upwards so he’d have good light on Marcus’s back when Marcus limped into room wearing nothing but a yellow towel around his trim waist.
David dropped the desk lamp.
They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Marcus managed a weak grin. “You know, a doctor shoul
