Fit For Service

Tony Aziz settles into the exam table, legs hoisted high in the stirrups, exposing himself fully to Dr. Luke Marcum. Luke snaps on his rubber gloves, the sound sharp in the quiet room, and presses a gloved finger against Tony's tight asshole, probing with steady precision. He eases in deeper, parting the resistant flesh. Not satisfied, Luke reaches for the speculum, its cold metal gleaming under the lights. He inserts it slowly, cranking it open to stretch Tony's hole wide, revealing every intimate fold for his thorough inspection. Something lingers off, a hidden tension, so Luke withdraws the tool and slips a single finger back inside, feeling the warm walls clench around him, exploring with a clinician's touch. Tony's cock stands rigid inches from Luke's gaze, demanding attention. Luke leans in, lips parting to envelop the throbbing head, sucking it deep into his mouth with a hungry pull. Tony arches, pleasure ripping through him like a sudden storm, as Luke works his shaft with devoted strokes, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin. Then Luke dips lower, lapping at Tony's puckered hole, teasing the rim with wet, insistent flicks. Diagnosis delivered in a husky whisper, Luke prescribes the only cure that fits: he frees his own cock, thick and urgent, and drives it home into Tony's yielding ass. They shift and grind through positions like pages in a forbidden manual—missionary's raw intimacy, doggy's fierce claim, side-by-side's languid grind—each thrust a command obeyed. The finale unfolds with Tony on his knees, mouth locked around Luke's pulsing length, sucking him to the brink while his own hand flies over his cock, jerking to a shuddering release that spills hot across his skin as Luke floods his throat.