John stared up into the black nothingness of his ceiling. He knew he should be asleep, knew that his alarm would sound off disgustingly early. Despite knowing that, John still couldn't sleep. His mind was crawling with the images and harsh words from earlier that night.

Sighing, John rolled over to stare at the wall, his mind once more bringing those words to life -- 'you threw it away', 'stop seeking my approval', and he could clearly see the disappointment in Peter Benton's eyes.

That was the worse part, John told himself. To know he had disappointed Benton. To know that he would never earn the man's respect no matter how hard he tried and struggled. Somehow it had not been so bad when he had thought that Benton was only angry. John could handle Benton when the man was angry with an attitude. But he couldn't handle knowing he had once again disappointed his former teacher. While John knew Anna had been right to encourage him to run after Benton last night to confront him, John wished he hadn't listened to her. Then he could have lived for a few more days without knowing how badly he had fucked up.

The sound of his doorbell made John frown and he glanced at his clock. It was not quite four in the morning and he had no idea who would be at his door that early...or late, depending on how one looked at it. One thing was certain, he thought, he'd never know if he didn't get out of bed. Besides, whoever it was seemed determined to awaken him because he or she wouldn't take their finger off the doorbell. John tossed the covers aside and shivered as the early morning chill seeped through the lightweight cotton of his sweatpants, but he left his bathrobe on the bed and headed out of his bedroom, eager to find out who was at his door.

Walking into the living room, John flipped on a nearby lamp, and squinting against the glare went to the door. He gazed through the peephole and his curiosity was even more peaked when he saw who was standing in the hallway. "Doctor Benton?" John quickly undid the locks and opened the door to the man. "Is something wrong?" John asked, knowing that the only reason Benton would show up at his apartment would be if something bad had happened.

"Everything's wrong, Carter," Benton replied, his voice firm, but not angry. "But you can help make it right again. May I come in?"

"Sure." John stood aside to let Benton into the apartment, watching Benton look around the living room. "Can I take your coat?" John pushed the door closed and gestured to Benton's overcoat.

"Sure." Benton shrugged out of the coat and handed it to John, then sat down on the couch while John put the coat in the closet.

John sat down on the coffee table since there wasn't a chair in the room. "Sorry about the lack of furniture. Most of what we had in here was Dennis' and his father had it sent back to Atlanta."

"He didn't leave you anything or offer to sell you something?" Benton asked, his eyes boring into John's.

"Uh, he did offer. I didn't take him up on it. It was hard enough to keep living here, I really didn't want to have to look at Dennis' stuff all the time."

Benton's eyes left John's face as the man continued to look around the room. "Nice fireplace."

"Thanks. It's gas. One of the perks of this building, I guess. All the apartments have one." John watched as Benton got to his feet and walked over to the fireplace to look at the items displayed on the mantel.

"This is my appendix, Carter." Benton put his hand on the top of the jar, but he didn't pick it up.

"Yep. Best appendectomy I've ever done," John replied. He wasn't able to keep the pride out of his voice or the smile from his face.

"And now it will be the *only* appy you'll ever do." Benton returned to the couch. "After I put Reese to bed, I started thinking about things. That conversation we had at the El station kept going through my head."

John nodded. "Mine, too. You didn't wake me up just now; I haven't been asleep yet. I know I disappointed you and I'm sorry."

"Yes, it was a disappointment to find out that you left surgery. A bitter disappointment, Carter. But it's just one on top of so many others," Benton hotly said.

"I know," John looked down at the floor, then back up at Benton. "I know that I've tried your patience over the years."

Benton slightly smiled. "That's an understatement. You've lied to me, lied for me, embarrassed me, disappointed me. And now this..."

An uneasy silence stretched between them, seeming to last for minutes. Then Benton spoke again. "I know a way that you can atone for what you've done, Carter. And once you do that then you'll stand a better chance of ever winning my approval for anything."

"You do?" John suddenly felt better. Knowing that Benton would even consider letting him make things up was good. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, Doctor Benton."

"Not so fast, Carter," Benton said. "You haven't heard what it is."

"I don't care. I know I disappointed you over the years...and all the rest of what you said. Please? I'll do whatever you want me to do, just let me have the chance to make it up to you. I promise that I won't let you down this time." John knew he was begging, but he didn't care. If he had a chance to make things right then he wanted...no, he *needed* to take it.

"I was thinking about punishments and such and remembered how my Dad would sometimes have to resort to whipping me with a belt. Most of the time I was a well-behaved boy, but when I was bad, I was very bad." Benton stood and began to undo his belt. "Dad would say that there were some deeds that warranted a special payment, Carter. A pound of flesh out of my butt." As Benton said 'butt' the belt was hanging from his hand. "And that's what I propose to you, John Carter. Are you willing to give me a pound of flesh as payment for your misdeeds?"

John couldn't take his eyes off of the belt that dangled a few feet away from him. It was real leather, he could easily see that much. A rich and dark brown, not quite as dark as its owner, but close. John nearly reached out to touch the belt, but he made himself clasp the edge of the table instead. The very idea of being spanked scared him. John had never been spanked in his life and he said so.

Benton smiled gently. "Maybe that's part of your problem, Carter. You've never had to properly atone for anything, have you?"

"No," John agreed, knowing that being sent to his room or not being allowed to ride his horse for a week weren't nearly the kind of punishments that one remembered for days or weeks on end. "But...spanking. That's not something you do to a grown man."

"No. But then a grown man would have been up front with me about what he wanted to do with his life and career, wouldn't he?" Benton shot back.

John lowered his eyes and slowly nodded. Benton was right, if he had been behaving like a responsible adult then he would have gone to him first. But John had been afraid to go to him, and so, like a child, he ran away from Benton and to someone else. "You're right. I didn't act like an adult."

Benton folded the belt in half, and grabbed it by both ends, creating slack in it. When he snapped the belt taut the noise resounded through the apartment.

John jumped and his eyes darted to the belt. He felt like a child who had done something wrong and he didn't want to feel the pain from that belt. He didn't want the humiliation of having his former teacher spanking his behind, either. But...John so desperately wanted Benton's approval. And he knew that if he turned this down, if he passed on this chance to make things right with Benton, well, then there was no way in Hell he would ever earn Benton's approval.

"Well?" Benton asked.

John tried to say yes, but found his voice had deserted him. Nodding, he cleared his throat, then John finally croaked out a "Yes."

Benton nodded. "Very well then. But if we're going to do this, then we're going to do this properly." Benton sat back down, this time on the edge of the cushion. "Bend over my knees."

"Excuse me?" John asked, a half smile on his face as he was not quite sure he had heard Benton correctly. "You want me to do what?"

"Bend over my knees. You've agreed to be spanked, Carter, and it will be done the proper way or not at all. It's all up to you, man." Benton once more looked John directly in the eyes.

John sighed, then got to his feet. He hesitated for a few moments, then took a step to his left before trying to drape his body over Peter Benton's thighs with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. He could feel the heat of Benton's skin through their clothing and was very conscious of all the places where they touched.

"You've got to move up some, Carter," Benton said.

John moved up a bit and had most of his torso resting on the couch and his knees just off the floor. He wondered if Benton would give him any warning of when he would begin. "Are you going to...Jesus!" John's question was abruptly cut off when he felt the stinging of the leather belt against his very tender butt cheek. Maybe saying yes had not been a good idea.

"That's one," Benton calmly said. "And this is two."

John yelped as the belt met his butt again, this time on the other cheek.

"You really need to be quiet, Carter. You don't want your neighbors knocking on your door asking if everything's all right. Although I guess you'd be quite a sight answering the door just to tell them you were getting the spanking you deserved."

"It hurts," John hissed. He could still feel the sting from the first blow.

"Be a man and suck it up, Carter," Benton coldly replied and then another blow fell.

John's cry of pain was partially cut off by his own fist as John bit down into the flesh. That blow had to have landed near one of the others. It burned, oh God, how it burned.

"This is four," Benton announced as the next blow fell.

John once more bit into his fist as he tried to keep from yelling. His entire ass felt as if it were afire and yet he'd only been struck four times. Belatedly, John realized that he hadn't asked Benton how many times he'd be spanked. If it was a pound of flesh due for payment then did that mean that he would be struck 16 times, one for each ounce that made up a pound? John hoped not. He didn't think he could last through that many whacks. He was still thinking about that when the fifth blow touched him, and this time John had no doubt at all that the blow had landed across the other two on that cheek. The sharp sting on top of the two still burning welts nearly brought tears to his eyes.

"Jesus, that hurts," John said. "How many more to go?"

"How many do you think you deserve, Carter?"

"Um, five?"

Benton chuckled. "I think twice that amount."

"Ten?" John's voice broke on the word.

"Might as well make it an even ten, that way you'll hurt evenly. This is six."

John barely had enough time to get his fist back into his mouth before the belt made contact once again with his butt. He could taste iron in his mouth -- the unique taste of blood -- and knew he had broken the skin of his hand, but the pain from that was nothing like the pain on his butt. John squirmed a bit and then froze as he realized with a growing horror that his cock was hard. He was having his ass spanked with a belt and he was hard because of it. And this was happening while he was draped across Peter Benton's thighs. John could feel his face growing hot as he knew there was no way that Benton could miss the hardness against his legs. This was bad. This was very bad.

Stroke seven stopped those thoughts cold as it brought more tears to John's eyes. He didn't know what was making him teary eyed -- the pain from the whipping or the humiliation of being turned on.

With stroke eight, John was convinced that it was the pain that was evoking tears. Stroke nine landed atop the others and John couldn't hold back the sob in his throat. Stroke ten landed soon after, but John was already crying out loud. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please?"

"Shh. I forgive you." Benton helped John up and into a sitting position on his lap, moving back to sit properly and holding John against his chest. While one hand was threaded through John's hair, the other was rubbing small circles on John's back while John sobbed into Benton's shirt. "It's okay, man, you did well. You did real well."

"I'm such a baby," John angrily wiped his eyes, even as more tears were forming from the irritation against his hot and now tender bottom.

"No, you're not. You took ten hard blows with my belt, Carter, and you didn't cry until the end. You did well."

"I'm glad one of us thinks that," John said as he relaxed his body against Benton's. It felt nice to be held that way, despite his aching butt and John was beginning to enjoy the feeling of Benton's touches when he once again realized who he was. "Thanks," John said as he struggled to his feet. Brushing his tail over Benton's pants created enough pain to make John bite down on his lip, but he didn't hiss -- keeping his responses in check was too important for him to admit that such a small movement had hurt.

"You'll be sore for a day or two, Carter." Benton got to his feet and began to thread the belt through the loops of his pants. "If you have some type of cold cream or hand lotion, then you should put it on. That will take some of the sting out."

"Seems wrong to do something to take away the pain. I mean, what's the point of being punished if it doesn't hurt?" John asked, turning around to face his...he wasn't sure what Benton was at that moment. Former teacher, mentor, punisher?

"You have a point, Carter. But why make yourself suffer needlessly?" Benton walked to the closet. "I'll get my own coat and see myself out."

"Thank you." John watched as Benton put his coat back on and headed for the door. "So, this was full payment?"

His hand on the doorknob, Benton turned around, the corners of his lips twitching. "No. This was just a part of it. By my best estimate, Carter, I'd say that you still have fifteen ounces left to go until we reach that pound. I'll see you at work." And then Benton was out the door.

Slightly dazed, John went to the door and locked it. Did that mean that Benton was going to spank him fifteen more times? John's cock pushed against his sweatpants, tenting them out. "Shut up," John whispered down to his impudent organ. "I wasn't asking you. *You* act as if you want him to do that...and more." As John walked back to his bedroom, he couldn't truthfully say that he didn't feel the same way as his cock.

**********

Peter leaned against the closed door of Carter's apartment. His body still but for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He listened carefully to the sounds of Carter locking the door, but he still didn't move. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That was close. Too close.

Peter pushed away from the door and headed for the elevator. On the way over, he knew that his idea of spanking Carter had been radical. But he had rationalized it in his own mind until it made sense to him. And he had rationalized it to Carter even as he knew that Carter would do *anything* to get even a small word of approval from anyone. And Peter had taken advantage of that knowledge.

But Peter hadn't been prepared for what had happened. When Carter's body squirmed on his lap with each blow, Peter had become increasingly aware that Carter's cock was getting harder. And even as he felt shocked by that, Peter was even more shocked at how much he had wanted to caress that ass. Wanted to roll Carter over, gather him in his arms and kiss him senseless. Wanted to...Peter shook his head as the elevator doors opened. There was no reason for him to think along those lines. Carter was a ladies man. He loved them, even if they only broke his heart time and time again. And, Peter liked the ladies as well. He had a baby to prove it. Peter knew for certain that the two of them were definitely heterosexual men.

As the elevator descended, Peter found his memories of the El encounter pushed aside by an image of John Carter's ass covered by the thin cotton of his pants. Judging by the way Carter's butt filled out those pants, Peter knew that those mounds had to be white and perfect. Maybe even like porcelain. Peter wondered if those mounds would have been as wonderful to touch as his imagination made them out to be. Maybe the next spanking could be a 'hands on' experience. Peter smiled at the thought and he nodded at his reflection in the metal plate that surrounded the floor buttons. Then his smile faded as he realized that he wasn't thinking like a heterosexual male, and that wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all.

As the doors opened onto an empty lobby Peter had reached a decision -- there would be no more spankings for Carter. No more opportunities to gaze upon his body, no more opportunities to feel Carter's hard cock poking his leg. No more of anything outside of a professional relationship, and that one would exist only within the boundaries of a resident and an intern. Peter had extracted his revenge -- one that left them both with a surprise -- and it would have to be enough.

The day after the spanking was difficult for John. He drove to work, thinking that gingerly getting in and out of the Jeep would be less noticeable than him insisting on standing while riding the El to work. When he had showered that morning the hot water had stung his skin, giving him a painful reminder of the punishment he had willingly endured. When he had checked himself in the mirror he could clearly see the marks left by Benton's belt. Just looking at the marks brought back the way the belt had smelled of leather and Benton -- and John's cock twitched to life once more. He ignored it and dressed for the day, selecting his softest boxer shorts and loosest trousers. But as John walked out of his building and to his Jeep he couldn't help but notice how the material of his boxers slid across his smarting skin, irritating it further and bringing back memories of how it had felt to be draped over Benton's lap -- which once again made his cock spring to life.

Once at work John put all of that out of his mind. He had endured his spanking and was looking forward to a new attitude from Benton. John was disappointed when he finally saw his old teacher and the man greeted him formally. At first John thought that Benton was self-conscious about the spanking, but as the day wore on, Benton's attitude didn't change. Nor did it change the next day or the one after that. A week later, John was still mystified by Benton's aloofness and he had given up all hope of that promised second spanking. The welts from the first one were gone and John knew he was ready for the second round. He wanted to get all sixteen rounds over and done with. And that want had gained even more importance in the light of Benton's stiff formalities. John was sure that once all the spankings had been completed that Benton would treat him differently. Treat him like a colleague and not like some stranger he happened to pass in the halls of the hospital.

John stood at the admit desk, watching Benton quickly walk away from him without hardly a 'goodnight, Carter'. It wasn't right, John thought. Not right at all.

"I thought you said that the two of you worked things out?" Anna's voice broke through John's thoughts.

"I thought we had. Maybe something else is bothering him. I heard he's been staying with Carla and his baby all week," John replied. "It's hard adjusting to having a baby in the house."

"I suppose." Anna looked thoughtful. "He's been...standoffish all week though. With you, I mean."

"Really?" John asked as he grabbed a chart. "I hadn't noticed."

Anna grinned. "Right." She rolled her eyes. "You know you did so just admit it, Carter."

"I didn't," he insisted. "Well, maybe a little bit. But not much. He's been in a hurry to get to Carla's every night."

"Not tonight," Haleh said as she passed by him. "I heard him say he was sleeping in his own bed tonight and not on some lumpy couch."

"See," Anna said triumphantly. "He has a reason to be happy. Which still doesn't explain why he's practically ignoring you."

"He's always treated me that way, isn't that right, Haleh?" John said, hoping the nurse would agree with him and that the answer would end the conversation. He had no desire to talk to Anna about why he was disappointed.

"That's about right." Haleh walked past John again. "Sometimes I think a person has to get right in his face to just get his attention, he gets so focused on other things."

As Haleh walked away, John found himself thinking about what she had said. Maybe he needed to get in Benton's face once more. It had worked the previous week and, if John were lucky, it would work again. And he knew exactly where to find Benton once his shift ended. With that in mind, John headed off to find his patient, feeling a little better now that he had a plan of action.


Hours later, standing in the hallway outside of Benton's apartment, John took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing," he muttered as he knocked on the door and took a step back to wait for an answer.

John tensed as he heard the sound of a chain being moved and then the deadbolt clicking within the wooden door. When the door swung open to reveal the impassive face of Peter Benton, John was ready to face him.

"What do you want, Carter?" Benton asked, his tone neutral.

"We need to talk," John said, stepping forward into the doorway and making sure that Benton couldn't slam the door on him, shutting him out.

"We've talked, remember? Just last week." Benton didn't make any move to let John come further into the apartment.

"Well, I think we need to talk again because nothing's changed since then."

The two men regarded each other solemnly, neither backing down.

"You *owe* it to me to hear me out," John firmly said and he had the small satisfaction of seeing Benton's eyebrows rise.

"I don't think I *owe* you anything, Carter, but it's obvious that you plan to act the brat until you get your way." Benton stood aside, opening the door to give John room to enter.

John walked into the apartment. He'd never been there before and was surprised to see that it wasn't much bigger than his own place. He had expected Benton to have a larger place, although the apartment was nicely appointed. As he heard Benton close the door, John turned around. "You can call me names if you wish, but I refuse to be baited into getting into an argument with you, Dr. Benton," John said. "I thought that we had reached an agreement last week."

Benton walked past John and sat down on his couch but he didn't invite John to sit, so John stubbornly remained standing.

"All agreements are void," Benton calmly said.

"What?" John couldn't believe he was hearing that. After all he had endured -- the humiliation, the pain, the...excitement -- Benton was now calling the whole thing off? "You can't make that decision."

"I can and I did. I have no wish or desire to spank you again, so the deal is off." Benton replied. "I'm sorry if you don't like it, but I refuse to back down on this issue."

"You're right that I don't like it. You've strung me along for this whole week, knowing that I was expecting you to either say something about the next...encounter, or to just show up at my door, and you kept quiet? I thought you had more honor than that, Dr. Benton. The spanking was humiliating, but this, well, this is just cruel and you had no right to treat me this way."

Benton quickly got to his feet. "I think you should leave now, Carter, before each of us says something we'll regret."

"So, I'm back to where I was when we spoke at the El station? Just another intern to you and nothing more? The past three years have no meaning at all?" John demanded.

"Exactly," Benton snapped back. "I'm not your teacher any longer, Carter. You threw that away when you slapped me in the face by turning your back on surgery and running to Anspaugh about it."

"I knew you'd go back to *that*," John said, shaking his head. "You claimed last week that it wasn't your ego but about all the people who had sacrificed to help you get where you are now, yet you keep harping on the fact that I didn't come to you to talk it over. Maybe I did try to come to you. Did you ever once think of that? Maybe that night I showed up at Carla's place, bringing you files from the hospital for you, maybe I wanted to talk to you. And what did you do? You practically slammed the door in my face."

"You never said anything about it," Benton shot back. "You just stood there with one of those stupid grins on your face at finding me there with Carla, as if we were some kind of private entertainment for your amusement."

"That's not true and you know it." John shook his head. "I had thought...Hell, it doesn't matter what I had thought. When I needed you, you weren't there. You were never there when I needed you, for one reason or another. I know it wasn't your fault that Reese was premature, but that doesn't change the fact that I needed to talk with you and you weren't there. So, yeah, I went to Anspaugh. I begged and pleaded with him to let me switch and he finally relented." John laughed, "God, you would think that all the times you tried to convince me that I wasn't cut out for surgery that you would be jumping for joy over my switching residencies. Doesn't it prove you were right all along?"

Benton slowly shook his head. "I never wanted to be proved right, Carter. But that's something you probably refuse to believe."

"That's because past experience has shown me that you glory in being proved right," John snapped. "You live for it and you know it. So, you should be rejoicing now, shouldn't you? And instead you're treating me like...well, like scum because I went to someone else and not to you."

Benton's lips were set in a tight line as he shook his head. "You are wrong...as usual."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" John demanded to know.

Benton shrugged. "You make up whatever stories you find appealing without regard to the truth. You have an irritating tendency to broadcast your emotions and logic on others. Well, I don't think the same way you do, Carter, so get over it. I told you why I was upset, and, as usual, you're choosing to ignore me."

John rolled his eyes and looked away. "Yeah, right. I should have known that you'd deny it all." John then looked directly into Benton's eyes. "Isn't it lonely being such a sanctimonious bastard all the time?"

Benton's eyes blazed with anger. "You know, my Daddy would have washed your mouth out for using such language. He never was one to shy away from doling out needed discipline...unlike your family."

"Shame his son didn't learn how to do that, isn't it?" John shot back. "As for my family, they might not have taken a belt to me, but they had their own methods of making us toe the line."

"There's nothing as memorable as a lesson learned the hard way," Benton replied. He was now regretting the fact that he had decided to take the noble route and call off the spankings. Carter was being the perfect brat tonight and definitely needed some kind of comeuppance.

"Guess you didn't learn it then, did you? Because from the way you talk, your father wasn't a wuss. Wonder how it was that you turned out that way?" John couldn't resist taunting. He was growing tired of always being the one 'in the wrong' and having to defend his family and their actions. It was about time that Benton had to defend his family or his own actions -- or in this case, inaction.

"Wuss? You're calling me a wuss? Where in the world did you learn to talk, Carter? Prep school?" Benton scoffed. "And I can guarantee you one thing -- you would have never lasted one minute while my Daddy spanked your bratty butt."

"Yeah, right. I lasted quite long enough last week, didn't I?" John questioned.

"That wasn't a 'real' spanking, Carter. I let you keep your pants on. You don't know what it's like to feel a hard and callused hand slapping hard on your skin, or a leather belt hitting your bare bottom. You'd be a crying blob in seconds."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it." John said, taking a step toward Benton. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn't help himself. The mental imagery alone was making him aroused and at that moment he wanted nothing more than to feel Benton's hand against his bare skin -- and to prove the man wrong.

The two men stared at each other and then Benton subtlety nodded. He walked over to the dining room table and pulled a chair out. Setting it in the middle of the floor, Benton sat down. "Drop your pants, Carter. I want you over my lap with a bare ass by the time I count to five or your whipping will be even worse."

John felt his mouth drop open over Benton's casual acceptance of his challenge. But when Benton said "one" and John still hadn't begun to undo his pants he knew the man was taking this seriously. While Benton's voice calmly announced "two", John's hands were fumbling with the button on his pants, then the zipper. He was trying to push them down when Benton said "three" and then John realized that he still had his suspenders on over his shoulders -- and he was wearing a sweater and a jacket. "Four" echoed through the living room as John shrugged out of the jacket and then yanked the sweater over his head. He was only three steps away from Benton and John crossed those few feet as he lowered his suspenders. Just as Benton said "five", John was making contact with Benton's thighs.

"You barely made it in time, Carter. You got lucky." Benton said, his mouth dry as he saw that Carter's pale ass looked as perfect naked as he had imagined.

"That's me, Mr. Lucky. Can we just get this over with?" John asked. His fear at not making it to Benton's lap in time had done a lot to kill his earlier semi-erection, but with his body spread across Benton's lap and his butt exposed, John felt his cock hardening again.

"I would have thought that, being the quick learner you are, you would have remembered to position yourself correctly." Benton grasped Carter's hips and moved him to the left, so that Carter's ass was rounded over Benton's right thigh. Feeling Benton's hands on his bare skin sent a shiver through John's body and he could feel his cock pressing against Benton's thigh -- and wishing that Benton's pants weren't in the way.

John gasped as Benton wrapped his left arm over Carter's back and to his belly, firmly grabbing him at the base of his cock. A silent acknowledgement that Benton knew Carter was hard and didn't care. That it didn't matter to him at all that this had excited Carter. The hard cock was nothing more than a convenient handhold for Benton. In the back of John's mind, he thought that the shame alone would be enough to kill his erection, but being firmly trapped in Benton's hand, his cock seemed quite happy. His face hot with shame and embarrassment, John steeled himself for the first of many blows, hoping that the pain would do to his errant member what his mind could not and that his erection would quickly disappear.

*************************

When Peter had felt Carter's hard cock, he had initially been angered. How dare Carter have feelings like that for him? He was heterosexual, not gay. And he had thought that Carter was heterosexual as well. But when Peter touched Carter's hips to move him, he felt his own cock harden and his anger spread to include himself. It didn't matter that none of this was planned, that he had worked with Carter for three years now without ever having an untoward thought about him other than the wish to be able to spank some sense into the young man.

But now, now this was happening. He was straight. Carter was straight. Yet they were both hard. And Carter was half-naked and draped over his thighs. And even as Peter raised his hand up so he could hit those perfect ass cheeks as hard as he could, he realized with a start that he wanted so much to just touch them. Gently and tenderly. He wanted to caress them and hear Carter moan.

Peter's hand did descend upon Carter's skin, but not to hit, not to punish. Instead Peter gave in to his desires and he softly stroked the silky smooth skin, feeling Carter trembling beneath his touch.

"Dr. Benton?" Carter's voice sound shaky and unsure.

"Yes, Carter?" Peter absently replied as his fingers drew patterns over Carter's butt.

"The spanking?"

"Can wait. This can't. You're so incredibly pale, Carter. So...white." Peter chuckled.

"Yeah, us Caucasians tend to have that problem," Carter's wryly replied.

Peter laughed. "Yes, you do." He splayed his hand on a firm cheek and marveled at the contrast of his black skin against Carter's white butt. The most simple contrast in the world. The most basic. Sometimes it was the most at odds. But tonight...tonight the contrast was beautiful and Peter had a sudden urge to compare other parts of their anatomies. Peter wanted to see all of John Carter. Wanted to touch his skin, taste his mouth and feel him trembling with desire beneath him.

But did Carter want that? Did Carter want to touch him? Did Carter even want to see him naked? Peter had no idea, but Carter's cock was still swollen within his hand. It felt like a strong cock. Firm and plentiful. When Carter had dropped his pants, Peter had averted his eyes, but now he wanted to see it. Oh, God, how he wanted to stroke it instead of just holding onto it. As he thought, Peter's hand began to knead the muscle of Carter's ass, and the sensations were obviously pleasurable as Carter began to moan and squirm.

Peter grinned. This was much nicer than burning his handprint onto Carter's butt. Much nicer, indeed. But then he remembered the way Carter had clung to him after the last spanking. The way Carter had accepted the comfort he gave. And Peter wanted that again. And again, and again.

Without warning, Peter tightly squeezed his left hand and then released his hold, making Carter gasp and then he brought his right hand down hard on the furthest white target. Peter let several slaps rain upon those white mounds until bright red patches glared up at him. Carter's trembles had ceased and his body had grown rigid. But that cock, oh, that cock had remained hard, Peter noted.

"How many was that, Carter?" Peter gruffly asked.

"Four," Carter said, his voice tight with emotion.

"Only six more to go then," Peter said. "And this time, I want you to count them out for me. I don't want to lose my place and give you too many...or too little." Peter said, grinning. He knew that Carter definitely didn't want too many, and he was determined to not give him any fewer smacks with his hand than he had given him the week before with his belt. "Ready to keep count?" Peter asked.

"No, but I know that won't...ah...man, uh, five," Carter said as Peter placed another blow to his backside.

Peter observed his handiwork. The pattern of red on white was nice, but not anywhere as beautiful as the mix of black and white had been. And it was obvious that Peter was leaving handprints behind. He was doing his best to make sure that that was noticeable. If Carter should be so foolish as to drop his pants in front of anyone within the next few days, Peter wanted everyone to be sure that a person had taken their hand to Carter's ass. Many times.

Another quick smack filled in a blank spot, leaving a recording of Peter's palm and fingers behind.

"Six," Carter replied, his voice strained and his body wriggled around a bit. Peter thought that Carter was most likely trying to get comfortable since his head and upper body were facing the floor. But all that wriggling really managed to do was to push Carter's cock into Peter's thigh.

It was time to bring this to an end, Peter thought, and then see what happened.

He went for the left cheek and was rewarded when Carter's voice called out "Seven." Back to the other side, but this time Peter aimed for the crease where Carter's pale thigh met his butt. "Eight," Carter's voice trembled.

Nine was the opposite thigh and Peter never heard the word 'ten' leave Carter's mouth because all that came out after that blow was a stifled sob.

As before, Peter lifted Carter's body, carefully turning him as he settled him in his lap, holding Carter against his body. Carter was crying, but not the sobs that the belt had brought forth. And looking down, Peter was rewarded with his first sight of Carter's cock, now semi-hard. But even in that state it was beautiful. Carter was cut, but Peter didn't mind that -- it was just another thing to highlight the difference between their bodies.

"Hush, Carter, you did well. Very well." Peter cradled Carter's head against his chest and rocked back and forth in the chair. Like before, Peter could feel Carter relax against him, but this time Carter didn't immediately stiffen and try to get away. This time he stayed relaxed and Peter took that as a good sign.

"Carter, look at me." Peter eased his hold on Carter's head and used his other hand to tip that chin up so he could look down into Carter's eyes. Those normally light brown eyes were dark now, and intense as they gazed up at him. "Carter..." Peter lowered his head and let his lips rest against Carter's for a moment. Then he pressed them harder, his tongue probing, asking for entrance. Carter's entire body stiffened in Peter's lap and for a moment Peter thought that Carter would run from him, but then Carter's body relaxed and those lips parted slightly. But it was enough to give him permission to enter, and Peter accepted the invitation with gusto.

Peter drew back from the kiss, breathless. But he didn't break eye contact with Carter, and as he looked down, he saw Carter looking up at him with longing and passion. Peter felt a jolt of surprise as he felt a hand pressing against his own hard cock and he grinned at Carter.

"This is...unexpected," Peter simply said.

Carter nodded, then moved around, slipping shoes, pants and boxers off, and then his socks. The next thing Peter knew, Carter was straddling his thighs. Peter looked down, hoping to get a spectacular view of Carter's cock, but instead all he saw was Carter's shirt-tail. It was tented out, but it still wasn't quite what he had been hoping to see.

"This is better," Carter said as he wrapped his arms around Peter's shoulders and leaned into his body, their lips touching once again. It was another kiss that left Peter breathless, yet wanting more. So much more.

His hands -- the normally calm hands of a surgeon -- were shaking as he tried to undo the buttons of Carter's shirt. His fingers fumbled and he felt his face grow warm as he heard Carter's deep chuckle.

"Let me," Carter said as his long fingers gently pulled Peter's away. Peter wasn't sure then what to do with his hands as he watched Carter begin to undo those pesky buttons, and they naturally fell to rest in his lap. Where Carter's most intimate possessions rested. Peter smiled as he wrapped his hand around Carter's erection and he took some small satisfaction in hearing Carter's gasp as Peter rubbed his thumb over the sensitive head. There was something about having someone messing with him that seemed to shake Carter's concentration because Peter could see that Carter was suddenly having difficulty with his shirt buttons.

"Hell with this," Carter said as he grasped the two sides of his shirt and ripped it open, sending buttons flying all over Peter's dining room area. Peter wasn't paying attention to the buttons though, he was too busy looking down at the newly revealed prize in his hand. He didn't even notice when Carter's shirt fell to the floor, but Peter was very much aware that he had a naked man on his lap. A naked Carter. A naked and hard Carter.

And Peter wanted him so badly that he felt he would scream from the frustration of having to wait another second.

"Hold on," Peter hoarsely commanded as he got to his feet. As he walked toward his bedroom he could feel Carter's legs wrapped securely around his waist, and Carter's arms locked in place around his neck. Carter wasn't a lightweight, and Peter found himself glad that he worked out, but he felt a thrill over how it felt to carry Carter to his bed.

Peter leaned over and disengaged Carter's arms, gently placing him on the bed. Carter grinned up at him, his legs still locked around Peter's waist, giving Peter a fine view of what Carter was offering up to him. "Not yet, Carter. Not yet."

"Soon?" Carter asked, and Peter heard a hint of frustration in Carter's voice. A frustration that seemed to match his own.

"Yes, soon." Peter reached behind his back and grasped Carter's ankles, pulling them around and letting Carter's legs fall to the bed. "Roll over onto your stomach and make yourself comfortable," Peter said, and then he disappeared out of the bedroom. He wanted to put lotion on Carter's backside to soothe the burning as much as he could. And, he admitted to himself, he also wanted to use that as an excuse to run his hands all over Carter's ass.

Peter found a bottle of lotion under the sink in his bathroom and he quickly returned to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. When he turned from the door to look at Carter, he nearly lost his breath again. Carter had turned back the covers and was stretched out over the sheets, his long legs slightly parted and his head resting on his folded arms. Carter was also looking directly at him, a small smile on his face. "What's in your hand?"

Peter looked down at the bottle of Jergen's. "Lotion. For your ass. I thought you might appreciate something soothing and cool on it."

"Before you warm it up again?" Carter asked, a touch of laughter in his voice.

Peter grinned. "Maybe. Maybe not." He walked over to the side of the bed and set the lotion on the nightstand.

"So...am I supposed to be the only one here that's allowed to be naked?" Carter asked, looking up into Peter's eyes.

Peter shook his head. "Not at all. I just hadn't gotten around to it. Finding something to take care of you with was more important."

Carter reached out and ran his finger along the bulge behind Peter's fly. "I think you already having something to take care of me with, as you put it."

"Brat." Peter said as he took a step away from the bed. "I thought you were supposed to be in awe of me and afraid of saying the wrong thing."

Carter shrugged as much as he could. "That's only where medicine is concerned. This is different." Carter's eyes sparkled as he watched Peter remove his shirt. "Much different."

Peter laughed as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped out of it and tossed it toward his dirty clothes hamper. "I see your point. This is definitely different. But nice. Very nice." Peter pulled off his socks, then undid his belt.

"I can't argue with you there," Carter replied.

Peter pulled the belt loose in one yank and he lightly flicked Carter on the butt with it, making Carter jump and yelp. "Hey, watch it! That's sensitive skin back there."

"I know. I was there when it was being sensitized, remember? And my hand is still tingling from it." Peter dropped his belt and started to remove his pants.

"Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to kiss it better?" Carter lifted his head off his arms and grinned across the room at him.

"Yes. I'd like that very much," Peter replied, not sure if Carter would follow through with that offer or not. His boxer shorts soon landed on the pile of clothing and Peter felt a little self-conscious under Carter's studious gaze. He had stood naked and aroused in front of many women, but never in front of another man. Never in front of John Carter. And the fact that it was Carter seemed to make all the difference in the world. Especially in how nervous Peter felt. Peter wanted Carter to like what he was seeing just as much as Peter had liked looking at Carter in all his glory.

"Well," Carter finally said, his voice husky, "bring it on over here and I'll kiss it all you want."

Peter's eyebrows rose and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. This was Carter? Nervous, eager to please, often stumbling Carter? Since when did Carter learn how to make double entendres? Since when was Carter a seducer? Maybe, Peter thought, just maybe he had been wrong about John Carter. Maybe the younger man had had experience with other men?

"You've done this before?" Peter found himself asking.

"Kissing a hand?" Carter looked puzzled. "Yeah, I guess I have. Why? You've never had your hand kissed?"

Peter shook his head. "I meant...this..." Peter waved his arm around. "The whole thing.

"The whole thing?" Carter's brow was now furrowed from his confusion.

"Having sex with another man," Peter said.

"Oh." Carter's brow smoothed as he understood what Peter was asking and he looked thoughtful. "No. I've never even thought about it. What about you? Is this something new for you?"

"Yes. It's very new," Peter replied. He felt relieved to hear that Carter was, well, a virgin when it came to having sex with another man. There was something powerful and erotic in the idea that he would be Carter's first. And that Carter would be his first as well.

Peter walked over to the table and he picked up the bottle of lotion. Then he climbed on the bed, straddling Carter's long legs, finally letting his body rest on the back of Carter's thighs.

"This might be a little cold," Peter warned as he squeezed the cool and soothing lotion into his palm and began to gently work it into the reddened skin before him. He heard Carter's soft gasp and tried to be as gentle as possible, but Peter knew from experience that any amount of pressure was going to hurt. Still, this spanking wasn't nearly as rough as the first one had been, even if that one had happened while Carter's butt was protected by a layer of clothing.

"Does this feel better?" Peter asked as he squeezed lotion directly onto the hot skin, then began to slowly work it in with the rest.

"Yeah, it feels nice," Carter lazily replied.

"And this?" Peter leaned forward a bit so he could massage Carter's lower back.

"Mmm. That's wonderful."

As Peter moved his hands to Carter's shoulders, he could feel the tension under those muscles and he lingered there a long time. He was very conscious of the soft moans that were escaping Carter's throat -- and the fact that in his present position, Peter's hard cock was resting in the cleft of Carter's buttocks. If Peter moved just a bit -- he bit down on his lower lip to hold back the moan that threatened to escape as he felt a wicked sensation flow from the head of his cock and to his brain just from a tiny bit of friction. He could feel his member swell even more as he thought about the type of friction he would find inside of Carter's mouth or hand or...even his ass. Would Carter let him do that? Would he let Carter do that to him? Peter's hands moved down Carter's sides to his hips, pressing hard and Peter jerked his hands away when he heard Carter gasp in pain.

"What? What's wrong?" Peter demanded to know.

"You hit a bruise," Carter replied, moving one hand down to rub at his hip.

Peter looked and saw a large bruise there. He ran his fingers lightly over it. "How did this happen?"

Carter laughed. "You were there, don't you remember?"

Peter frowned. "The spanking with the belt? I didn't hit you on your hip," Peter protested.

Carter raised up on his elbows and he turned his head to look at Peter. "Earlier that night when we were...talking. You pushed me away and I fell, remember?"

"I did this?"

"It was an accident," Carter evenly replied. "It's not a big deal."

Peter scooted his body down a bit along Carter's legs, then bent over to place a tender kiss on the bruise. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Carter laughed again. "You lit into my ass last week with a belt, then spanked me tonight with your bare hand -- both things for the express purpose of causing me pain and yet here you are apologizing for *accidentally* hurting me? I don't think I'll ever understand you, Dr. Benton."

"It's not funny, Carter," Peter snapped. "Not funny at all."

Carter rolled over onto his back, his legs still pinned under Peter's body. He smiled at Peter and Peter felt his insides turn to liquid. "Yes, it is funny. Now, my rear end is soothed, my bruise is kissed -- what's next?"

"What's next is you not calling me 'Dr. Benton'," Peter replied as he made his way back up Carter's body. He braced his hands on either side of Carter's shoulders and lowered his head until their lips met. This time Peter didn't need to press for permission to enter because Carter's full lips were already parted for him. As they kissed, Peter slowly lowered his body down on Carter's, covering him like a blanket of chocolate. Peter could feel the hardness of Carter's cock poking him in his belly right beside the hardness he could feel of his own cock. Carter's hands were resting on Peter's ass, lightly skimming the surface and sending shivers up Peter's spine.

Peter finally came up for air. "What do you want to do next?" He asked as he looked down into the dark pools of desire that used to be Carter's eyes. Now they had become so much more than windows that showed Carter's emotions. Now they were doors into Carter's soul.

"I want to do everything," Carter said, looking steadily into Peter's eyes. His hands kneaded Peter's butt cheeks, then stroked the skin up Peter's hips and sides. "Everything." Carter repeated with a smile.

Peter smiled back and lightly kissed the tip of Carter's nose. "Then we'll see what we can do about making sure you get *everything* you want," Peter promised. He raised himself off of Carter and got out of bed. "I'll be right back."

Peter headed back to the bathroom to retrieve his box of condoms, very much aware of the intensity of Carter's gaze on his back as he left the room.

John knew he was grinning like an idiot as he watched Benton walk away, but he couldn't do anything but grin. Aside from the fact that Peter Benton had one hard, muscular body, John also was happy over the fact that his attraction to Benton was being returned.

John crossed his arms under his head as he tried to look relaxed and confident. Should he cross his legs at the ankles? Spread them out a bit? He didn't want Benton to once again think he was gay and used to doing things like this. Although the look on Benton's face as he had asked the question had been pretty cute. Almost as cute as the look on Benton's face when John had turned the question back around on him. John chuckled as he remembered that and he was surprised to hear an echoing chuckle from across the room. He looked up to see Benton standing in the doorway, a box of condoms in his hand.

"What's so funny?" John lightly asked, but inside he was worried that Benton thought he was a fool or something. Or worse, that Benton was laughing because this was all a joke.

"I was just watching you move, that's all," Benton replied. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside John. "Couldn't get comfortable?" Benton asked with a smile.

John grinned. "Not really." He reached out for the box of condoms and Benton placed it in his hand. John was tempted to make some smart-ass comment about being surprised that there were any condoms in the place since Reese had just been born, but he was pretty sure that Benton would reward a comment like that with another spanking. Not that *that* was necessarily a bad thing, but his ass was sore and John didn't want another spanking so soon. Instead John looked for the expiration date and he nodded as he saw that the condoms were good for about another year. "Think there's enough in here?"

Benton laughed. "There had better be, unless you've got a better recovery period than most men."

John grinned. "I might. For all you know I could have a magic penis."

Benton ran a finger up the length of John's cock. "I'm pretty sure that you do, Carter."

John couldn't keep his eyes away from Benton's hand and he watched as his cock arched toward that finger of its own accord. His penis knew what to do, so why didn't he? John forced himself to look at the box and he opened it, removing a few condoms. "Don't we need K-Y or something?"

"We can use the lotion. It'll do for now. If we both like this well enough, then we can buy a proper lubricant. But not anything medicinal. I work in the hospital, I don't want my bed or my lover to smell like one."

John grinned at being referred to as Benton's lover. He liked the sound of that. He sat up, narrowing the gap between their bodies. "Is that what we are? Lovers?"

Benton smiled back at him and started to lean forward. "Not quite yet, Carter. But we will be."

Their lips met -- silk on silk and John found himself getting lost in the moment -- and then he felt fingers lightly pinching his nipples. His entire body shivered from that particular sensation and John arched his back, pushing his chest further toward Benton, not wanting those sensations to end. His right hand crushed the condom packets and his left hand sought out Benton's body, caressing the skin that was now taut across the man's thigh. John's hand followed the inside of the thigh to the apex where it met Benton's body -- and then he began to caress Benton's testicles. Again, the skin here was taut around them, but when Benton moaned into John's mouth, John knew that taut or loose, Benton liked the caressing very much.

"Man..." Benton's voice was low and husky as the kiss ended.

"I know," John replied, his hand still slowly caressing Benton. "I know."

"If you keep doing that I'll come right here."

"Do you want me to stop?" John asked, a small smile on his face.

Benton shook his head. "Not really, but you should. Lie back down."

John reluctantly let go of Benton's balls and he stretched back out, eager to find out what Benton had in mind. He loved the way it felt when Benton's body loomed over his while Benton loosed one of the condoms out of John's hand. Every place where their bodies met felt as if it were on fire, but John wanted nothing more than to have Benton's entire body spread out over his once again.

"Dr. Benton..."

"You can call me Peter," Benton answered as he resumed his previous position. He had tried to tell Carter that before, but then had been pleasantly distracted. He smiled at John. "I think that in light of the situation, "Dr" is definitely too formal, don't you?"

John smiled back. "I suppose so." John watched as Benton carefully tore open the foil packet. "What now?"

Benton tossed the wrapper toward the nightstand, then reached out and grasped John's cock. John sucked in a quick breath as Benton's large fist wrapped around his sensitive organ. Then Benton rolled the condom down the length of it.

"Good thing these aren't coated with spermicide," Benton commented as he stood and then used his knee to pry John's legs apart so he could settle between them.

John spread his legs even wider and looked up at Benton. "And why is that?"

"Well, gathering the nerve to go down on you is difficult enough, but the idea of sucking on a condom that has spermicide on it is disgusting." Benton made a face, then he stretched out, his head centered over John's cock.

John swallowed noisily as he anticipated what it would feel like to have his cock in Bent...Peter's mouth. John enjoyed blow-jobs a great deal and he had heard the old joke about how the best blow-jobs would have to be the ones given by another guy because who else but another man would know what a man liked best? And now John was about to find out if the joke had any truth to it.

As he felt the heat of Peter's breath on his cockhead, John let his head fall to the pillow, his eyes fixed on a spot on Peter's ceiling. When the head of his cock was kissed, the feeling sent a shock wave up his spine and he groaned. If it felt that good through latex, what would it have felt like on bare skin?

John found himself gasping for breath when Peter closed his lips around John's cock. Peter's mouth was hot and his lips held John tightly. "Oh, God..."

His eyes tightly closed, John found his sense of touch alive as Peter's hand wrapped around the base of his cock. And Peter's mouth...it was moving up and down. When Peter went up, his hand followed it up as well, remaining tightly wound around John's shaft. Together they moved down, dry and firm hand and moist, hot mouth. The combination was intoxicating and John couldn't help but move his hips upward in an effort to get even more of that feeling. John heard a soft chuckle from Peter's direction and then a strong hand on John's hip pinned him to the bed.

John tried his best to keep his back flat on the bed, but the desire for more was too great and he once more lifted his hips up to keep Peter's mouth from coming anywhere close to escaping. His hands sought hair so he could wrap his fingers through the strands to hold Peter in place, but Peter didn't have hair long enough for that.

This time Peter lifted his head up as he pushed John back to the mattress. John raised his head and their eyes met -- one set full of frustration, the other looking amused. "Carter, don't make me tie you to the bed, man. I've never done this before, but I think I can handle sucking you off without any assistance. If you try to thrust your cock down my throat again, I'll have no choice but to tie you down. Is that understood?"

The mental image of being tied down and helpless while Peter Benton had his way with him sent another wave of arousal coursing through John's body. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded his understanding.

"You're sure you understand that?" Peter asked, his hand still firmly around John's cock.

John vigorously nodded, a smile on his face.

Peter smiled and shook his head. "What am I going to do with you, Carter?"

John finally found his voice. "Make me come?"

Peter laughed again. "That had been my original intention, but now I'm thinking that maybe tying you down and making you wait for release is a better use of my time." Their eyes met again and Peter shook his head once more. "I somehow doubt if it would teach you a lesson though. The look in your eyes and on your face...maybe next time."

John grinned, thrilled at hearing Peter wanted there to be a next time for them. He nodded. "Okay. That sounds good to me."

Peter was still chuckling as he raised up on his knees. "You are too much, Carter. Hand me the lotion."

Somewhat disappointed that the blow-job had stopped, John quickly passed the lotion to Peter. He was hoping that the blow-job would resume, but instead he found his eyes glued to Peter's hands as the man squirted a large amount of lotion onto his left hand, then brought his hands together, smoothing the lotion out a bit.

"Try to relax," Peter instructed as he lowered one hand to John's balls -- and below. John did relax slightly as Peter's hand gently massaged the lotion onto his sac -- and then that hand moved lower, massaging the remaining lotion on his perinium, but Peter's touch there was harder and John's cock responded by jerking a few times and slightly swelling within the condom that still sheathed it.

"You're tensing up again, Carter," Peter said.

John raised his head and looked at him, noting his smile. "Yeah, well, it's kinda hard to stay relaxed while you're doing *that* with your fingers."

"It is now?" Peter asked as his smile widened. He lowered his other hand, the one still amply coated with lotion. "And how about when I do this?"

John had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out as he felt a slender finger skate over his anus. "A little," John finally said.

"And what about now?"

That finger made a ring around John's opening before slipping in just a bit. This time there was no way that John could hold back a gasp as the first ring of muscle was breached. "More," he breathed.

"More as in another finger? Or more as in put more of it in?" Peter asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh, fuck," John spread his legs further apart, trying to make his anus open further so that it wouldn't hurt. He knew that it wouldn't do any good, but his body thought it was a good idea. "More of it in me."

"You have to relax for me, Carter," Peter said.

"I think this is as relaxed as I'm going to get," John replied.

Peter shook his head. "You've given rectal exams before. You know how important it is for the patient to relax. So, pretend we're playing 'doctor' right now. I'm the doctor and you're the patient. And you need to relax so I can perform this exam."

"I've had a rectal before and it wasn't quite like *this*," John replied with a small smile.

"You were unconscious and can't possibly remember what happened," Peter replied with a smile of his own.

John shook his head as Peter referred to the time Deb Chen had rendered him unconscious with the defibrillator and then pretended she had performed a rectal exam on him while he was unconscious. At least John had always thought she was pretending. Maybe she had really done that to him? John was about to ask Peter for clarification on that when a lightning bolt shot through his body.

"Jesus Christ!" John gasped.

"I told you that all you had to do was relax, didn't I?" Peter said without looking up. "I guess I don't have to ask how this feels."

Another lightning bolt hit him and John gave up on trying to look at Peter's face -- Peter was too intent on what he was doing now that John's sphincter muscles were relaxed enough for his finger to be all the way in. Instead John decided to just let his body enjoy the new sensations that Peter was creating within it.

Another movement against his prostate made John's back arch and his hips buck -- always trying to get closer to Peter, to get more of his finger inside. Peter chuckled, but he didn't say anything or push John's hips back to the mattress. For John, it felt as if time were suspended as he enjoyed being on the receiving end of Peter's ministrations. When he finally reached the point of knowing it couldn't possibly feel any better, it changed. A little more pressure and a touch of pain and John knew that Peter had inserted a second finger. Once the flash of pain had passed, John knew he wanted something bigger. He wanted Peter's cock.

Peter's fingers were twisting and scissoring, sending John riding high on waves of pleasure. "Now," John managed to say. "I need you now."

"Do you? Well, you have me, Carter," Peter replied, a laugh in his voice.

John's fists grabbed the sheet in frustration. "You...your cock...in me...now!"

Peter chuckled. "Demanding, aren't you?"

"Fuck, yes," John replied.

Peter slowly withdrew his fingers, making John moan as they drug across that little organ that was capable of creating so much pleasure.

"Condom." Peter held out his hand and John stared at it. "Carter, you're still holding onto the other condom," Peter gently said.

John lifted up his hand, sitting up to hand the condom to Peter. He had forgotten about the condom, although he had grasped the sheet so tightly with the condom in his hand that it had left deep marks in his palm.

"Is this position good for you?" Peter asked as he rolled the condom onto his erection.

John couldn't take his eyes off of Peter's cock. It was huge. Giant, really. And so black. Much darker than the rest of Peter's skin. John began to doubt if it really could fit inside his body. He shook his head.

"Then what position do you want to try? You on your hands and knees? Or just on your belly?"

John blinked and finally looked up into Peter's face. "What?"

"What position do you want to be in? Hands and knees or on your belly?"

"This is good, I guess." John's eyes dropped to Peter's cock again. Maybe it would fit. Maybe. He let his body drop to the mattress as he tried to talk himself into believing that Peter's cock would, indeed, fit inside of him.

Peter shook his head, then applied more lotion to his hand. He coated the condom liberally, then squirted out even more. John jumped slightly as a glob of cold lotion touched his hot opening. But he didn't complain as Peter worked it into his sphincter muscles and inside his anus. Even if John wanted to complain, he was certain that his vocal chords would fail him.

The pleasant massaging stopped and then John felt Peter's strong hands grabbing him under the knees and lifting. "Hold your legs up, Carter," Peter commanded.

John reached out and grabbed the bottom of his thighs, trying to keep his legs spread out as much as possible. When Peter reared up on his own knees, John gulped as Peter's cock swayed, and he watched as Peter grabbed himself, aiming the head at John's anus. John felt himself growing tense once more.

"You've got to relax for me, Carter. I want so much to make love to you but I don't want to hurt you." Peter said, his voice sounding husky and strained.

The look of desire in Peter's eyes and on his face touched John's heart and he took a deep breath, then closed his eyes so he wouldn't find himself anticipating Peter's movements.

"Relax," Peter repeated and John felt something nudge at the opening. And then Peter's fingers were slowly pushing into him once again. "You like this well enough, don't you? It will be even better when my cock is in you, Carter."

John moaned as lightning struck several times in his groin. "Yes," he gasped out. His moans grew louder as Peter's fingers began to separate, pushing him open from the inside. Then they pulled out and John felt his muscles stretching around Peter's spread fingers. And then John felt something else pushing in between those fingers as Peter's fingers slipped out the rest of the way. As John's muscles clenched around the new intrusion, John took another deep breath, willing himself to relax. And he heard Peter gasp out loud as the head of his cock was enveloped.

"God, Carter, you are so damn tight. I never imagined it could feel like this," Peter said.

"I hear it gets better once you're all the way in," John replied. He dared to open his eyes and it took his breath away to see the look of passion that was on Peter's face. Their eyes locked, each one knowing it was time to do more.

"Relax for me, Carter." Peter repeated as he slowly pushed in.

John closed his eyes as he felt the pressure against the ring of inner muscle. As a doctor, he knew that once Peter had breached *that* ring, then it wouldn't hurt as much. John took a deep breath, holding it for a bit and then letting it noisily go -- and that was when Peter pushed in even more.

John felt a slow burning sensation from his bottom, but it wasn't so painful as to be difficult to endure. He took another deep breath, and, as before, when he released it, Peter was further in. By the time that John had released his fifth deep breath, he could feel Peter's heavy ball sacks against his skin -- Peter was all the way inside of him. The burning sensation was starting to abate, leaving John feeling full -- and there was something else there, too. Not that incredible lightning strike from before, but something equally pleasurable. Peter's hard cock was pressing against John's prostate and the sensation was quickly turning that burning feeling into a distant memory.

"God," John quietly said.

Peter chuckled and nodded. "Exactly."

Their eyes locked once more and then Peter began to slowly withdraw, his erection rubbing against John's prostate. John's hips arched up as that lightning bolt struck with stunning accuracy and he found himself thanking God for remembering to put the prostate in men. "Yes," he cried out, "That's so fucking good, Peter. Don't stop."

Peter laughed. "Don't worry, Carter, I have no intention of stopping, not when it feels this damn good to be inside of you."

As the head of Peter's cock paused just inside John's opening, John found himself facing a horrible empty feeling in his ass. He needed to have Peter back in all the way. John's hips bucked higher and he tried to scoot down the bed to impale himself on Peter, but that only made Peter laugh again.

"I'm definitely going to have to tie you down next time," he said. "I may not have any experience with a man, Carter, but I can assure you that I do know what to do with my dick."

"All you're doing is driving me crazy," John said.

"I know," Peter answered with a grin. "Isn't it a great feeling?"

"Fuck, yes!" John agreed. But he still wanted more. "You said you weren't going to stop."

Peter chuckled. "I did say that, didn't I? Tell me, Carter, do you want it long and slow," Peter started to slowly push his erection back inside and John moaned, partially from the increasing fulfillment and partially from frustration that it was happening so slowly. "Or hard and fast?"

Peter abruptly shoved his cock in the rest of the way and his balls made a smacking sound as they hit John's butt once again. "Yes," John panted. "Like that. Fuck me hard and fast, Peter."

"I thought you'd say that," Peter said as he began to oblige John. They both fell into a fast and furious rhythm, the two men gaining sweet release at the same time. Their voices mingled as they cried out from the force of their orgasms and then Peter rested his head on John's chest.

John placed his hand on Peter's head, softly stroking him. John knew right then that he had been changed forever because he knew that he never wanted to be touched by any other person. The only one for him was Peter Benton. But was he the only one for Peter?

As John felt his heartbeat return to normal, Peter straightened and slowly withdrew. A terrible emptiness echoed up to John's brain from his ass and he had to close his eyes to keep them from watering. The next thing John knew Peter's gentle fingers were slowly removing the condom that had remained on his cock the entire time, and then a warm washcloth was run over his cock, balls and lower belly as Peter tenderly cleansed him.

John opened his eyes in time to watch Peter walk out of the room and he found himself grinning again as he admired Peter's tight and muscular ass. Would he get a chance to do with Peter what Peter had done with him? John hoped so, although he didn't think the experience would be quite as fulfilling as what he had just endured. John's grin widened as Peter returned to the bedroom. Even at rest, Peter's cock was impressive and it was a joy to watch Peter walk toward him.

"I hope that smile means you had a good time," Peter said as he climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside John.

"It does. What about you?" John asked as he helped Peter pull the covers up over their bodies.

"I had a great time," Peter replied as he stretched his arm out so John could cuddle next to him.

John rested his head in the crook of Peter's arm and threw his leg over both of Peter's while his arm rested on Peter's chest. John ran his fingers through the dense matting of chest hair he found there. "So, I guess all that pounding quickly added up to sixteen ounces, huh?"

Peter felt his entire body go stiff at Carter's question, and he suddenly felt sad to discover that this had been nothing more to Carter than an attempt to 'pay his debt'. How was it that he had been taken in so fully by Carter? Had it just been a case of him wanting to believe that Carter cared?

"Peter? Are you okay?" John asked.

"I'm fine." Peter began to separate their bodies. "Now that your debt is paid, you can get dressed and go, Carter. And you'll never have to worry about that kind of *payment * again."

"What are you talking about?" John asked as he sat up.

"You asked if *this*, if our...fucking, had fulfilled your payment of a pound of flesh. Well, it did." Peter turned away from Carter, not wanting to look at the hurt that had suddenly sprung into those expressive brown eyes.

"I was joking, Peter. Nothing about what happened was fucking to me. I thought..." Carter stopped talking and Peter turned around to see that Carter was looking at his folded hands as they lay atop the covers.

"You thought what?" Peter prompted.

"I thought we were making love," John replied. He looked up at Peter. "You said we were lovers, remember? And that we'd do this again. Or were you just toying with me?"

Peter shook his head as he realized that Carter was telling the truth. "No, I'm not toying with you, Carter. I'm just being thin-skinned and a bit of an idiot." Peter crawled back into bed, wrapping his arms around Carter. "I misunderstood what you meant and it hurt me to think that you had been out to use me." Peter kissed the top of Carter's head, vowing to never underestimate Carter again.

"I'd never do that to you, Peter." John said as he relaxed into Peter's embrace. "I love you."

"Isn't it a bit early to know that?"

"No. I've had strong feelings for you for a long time now. It didn't take much for them to turn to love. Besides, you can't be lovers unless there's love involved, can you?"

Peter chuckled and pulled Carter closer to his body. "No, you can't. I don't know if I can say that I'm in love with you, Carter, but I do love you. Maybe soon I can tell you if I feel anything deeper than that. The question is, are you willing to wait for me to figure that out?"

John moved around until he was resting on Peter's torso and he looked directly into Peter's eyes. "I can wait forever, Peter. You might not know the answer, but I do." John said with a smile.

"Oh, do you?" Peter asked. "And just what is that answer?" He wrapped his arms around John's body, holding him in place.

John pressed his lips against Peter's, kissing him passionately. As he pulled away, John ran his tongue lightly along Peter's lower lip. "I think that's for me to know and you to find out."

"Brat," Peter replied.

"Takes one to know one," John retorted and he lowered his head to suckle at Peter's nipple.

"Not just a brat, but a brat with a sassy mouth," Peter said as he tried to ignore the sensations that Carter was stirring up. "I think we both know what happens to sassy brats."

John raised his head as a slow grin began. "A spanking?"

Peter laughed. "Lord, what *am* I going to do with you, Carter?"

"Keep me forever?" John suggested as he lowered his mouth to the other nipple.

Peter reached out to run his fingers through John's hair, keeping his head in place. "I think that's the *only* thing I can do."


The End.