Still, Rich didn't like the way he looked. He needed a shave; he'd let his beard grow as a reaction to the doctors having had to shave his chest. The damn bullet had entered his chest beneath a rib, nicked his lung before exiting out the back, completely and fortunately missing his heart. And, he thought again, his cock, which now was hardening thanks to enticing motions of the sponge in Christof's hand. He dipped it again in the water, the warm sensation nice against his bare chest.
“You know, you should keep it this way,” Christof said.
“Keep what what way?”
“Your chest. I can see all the hair starting to grow back. Too much.”
“Don't let my boyfriend hear you say that.”
Rich scratched at his chest, feeling stubble. Marc would be pleased to know his hair was growing back; he loved luxuriating in the thick mat. Hey, where was Marc, anyway? Usually at this time of day he was already itching to get home, tired of Rich's mood. Itchy, that's how his chest felt. He'd been hairy since his late teen years and now it was almost like he'd regressed to being that naive fifteen-year-old again. Fifteen, when he'd gotten his first blow job from another boy at summer camp. . . what had been his name. . . Johnny Lee? Yes, had a Southern accent, said he'd always wanted to be a cowboy. He'd been real cute, dark-haired and with a hot body and Rich had come in his mouth before reciprocating.
“Uh, Rich, something on your mind?” Christof asked.
“Huh?” Rich asked, but then he understood. His cock was so hard his hospital gown was tented. “Oh, well, guess the sponge bath is causing a certain reaction. . .” Rich shifted slightly in his bed, his gown lifting to expose his thick, hard cock. “Like what you see?”
Christof actually laughed aloud. “No wonder the female nurses went running away, thing that size.”
Rich wasn't sure if he'd overplayed his hand, if he'd offended Christof or even guessed wrong about his sexuality. Saying nothing else, Christof took the sponge and rubbed the warm water against Rich's cock, drenching his thick pubes. A thrilling sensation he hadn't felt in more than a week got his blood flowing, his cock growing to its full, impressive size. Christof stroked it, first with the sponge and then he let it slip away, using his hand instead.
“Yeah, that's it, stroke it,” Rich urged.
“I think someone's feeling much better, huh?”
“Yeah, better, better. . . oh yeah, more, more.”
Christof leaned down and opened his hungry mouth, taking the cock inside. Rich thrust fast, pushing inch after inch of hard cock deep down Christof's throat, grabbing his head and holding it down. Christof sucked and sucked, easily devouring Rich's cock with sudden energy. Briefly the cute nurse looked up.
“The door, it's not locked.”
“It's okay, I like to live dangerously,” Rich said, “besides, I'm close, so close. . . come on, suck my cock, you know you want it—and I mean all of it.”
“Yeah, it's so big and thick, tastes so good,” Christof said, his head dropping back down, mouth sucking hungrily at the thick shaft, bobbing up, down, up, slurping with an intensity that would have Rich climaxing in no time.
True enough, Rich cried out as felt his cock pulsing, and that's when Christof lifted his head, clearly not wanting to suck down a heavy load of come. Instead, Rich watched as gobs of come shot out the red tip of his cock and shot all over Christof's face.
Falling back against the soft pillows, Rich sighed heavily. “Wow, I think you just healed me in one fell swoop.”
Christof looked away.
“Hey, no regrets, okay? This is our little secret...”
“Keeping secrets, oh, just what we like. Do tell.”
The door had just opened, new visitors announcing themselves. He quickly pulled the blankets over his exposed cock, took a fast look at Christof, who was busy wiping his face with the sponge; thankfully, his faced was turned away from the new guests and it seemed none were the wiser as to what had happened just moments ago.
“Edgar, Jack, come to check on your wounded neighbor?”
“Sorry we haven't been by, it's just. . .”
“No need to explain, what with Aaron. . .” Rich said, his voice drifting off in the air. “In fact, I'd rather not delve into it all that happened. . . not now. Tell me, though, how's Paolo?”
The longtime lovers exchanged hapless looks before Jack said, “Not good. He's got the house all closed up, shades drawn. We've only seen him once, but that was yesterday so at least we know he hasn't done anything. . . you know.”
“Dumb,” Edgar said.
“When I get out of here. . .”
“Easy, Rich. There's time for retribution later. How are you feeling?”
“I'm fine,” he said, waving off the concern.
“So I see,” Edgar said, checking out Christof's tight ass as the nurse excused himself and left the room. “Cute in a surfer dude way.”
“He gives me my sponge bath.”
Jack's eyebrows rose. “Did you say ‘spooge’ bath?”
“Funny, Jack,” Rich said. “So, what can I do for you guys?”
“We hate to bother you with all this, but Converse, the Wonderland Palaces, they are still a threat. And Converse is like a wounded animal himself, bent on revenge for Russell's death.”
“Yeah, Converse hid behind his aide and the aide bought it. Fucking coward. The police came by a few days ago, someone told them I was awake and on the mend, so they wanted to ask some questions. But there was very little I could tell them;
