The doctor 3

I woke up after a while, with Jorge's hard cock stuck to my thigh. He was sleeping with a childlike smile. I noticed my dick was getting excited. I woke him up, and he smiled at me while rubbing himself. I tried to be kind.

"Come on, let's go pee, get cleaned up, and head home. It's late."

Again, that puppy-like abandoned look.

"Jorge, you're a charming and very handsome boy, but I'm not interested in a relationship. Besides, I'm about twenty years older than you, and our worlds are probably farther apart than that."

His eyes welled up with tears, but he nodded and went to the bathroom. He was taking a long time, so I went to check on him. I found him staring at himself in the mirror, with thick tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked at me sadly through the glass.

"I'm coming, sir, right away..."

I stroked his neck, and he broke down in a painful cry. I hugged him, and I noticed his dick was flaccid. He hyperventilated on my chest and let go.

"It's not just the sex, sir, well, not just that. With you, I feel safe and protected... I've never felt anything like it, it's, it's..."

"It's that you're a little puppy who needs guidance, Jorge, but it would be better..."

"For me, right now, the best is you."

I bit my tongue. At that moment, it's not worth being told things like "you'll find someone your age" or "you'll find someone else." The truth is that the boy had moved me, and, why not say it, it flattered my ego that such a specimen had become so hooked on me. I separated him from me and looked him straight in the eye.

"Look, let's do something. We've barely talked, and I think it's worth getting to know each other a little better. I invite you to lunch one day, and we'll see, in a context where we can't just fuck like rabbits."

He smiled, crying again, but his eyes had lit up with illusion.

"When?"

I didn't have any flowers on hand, but his expectation moved me.

"Tomorrow?"

He hugged me and kissed my neck.

"Go, wash your face and get out of here, I'm getting stupid again, and..."

He made a face like "I've got my ass at your disposal," I gave him a slap, and I turned back to the bedroom. When he came out, he had a hard-on again. He looked at me, I shook my head, and he started getting dressed, making me get a hard-on with the image. I put on my pajama pants, and when I was about to go out to accompany him to the door, I saw him staring fixedly at my balled-up running pants on the floor.

"You're a vicious fag, kid. Go, pick them up, and I'll give you a bag so you don't go around with them in your hand."

He took them like a relic and sniffed, entranced, my male scent on the garment. He put on his shoes, and before saying goodbye with a kiss on the forehead, I had him type my phone number into his phone.

"Put my number in so you have it, and I'll tell you where ...