GAY SEX STORY
"Medics"

When two hunky men wearing sharp-looking, black uniforms wheel the stretcher into the already crowded ward, everyone pays attention, me included.

“Woof!” I mutter.

The swarthy, dark-haired man of the pair looks right at me and asks, “Are you Scott?”

“Ready and more than willing,” I tease him, gazing at his compact build.

He grins, moves next to me, lowers the incline of my bed and swings it into the middle of the room, beside the stretcher. Both attendants are a feast to my eyes, especially because I’ve been in hospital for over a week. To add frustration, all the nurses have been women and none of my room-mates were anywhere near my type. Mind you, I’d hardly consider myself a prime candidate for a raunchy suck-and-fuck session. Yes, I’m six-foot-plus and well over 200 pounds, but one leg is wrapped in a cast, from my ankle to my upper thigh. With crutches, I can move around a bit, but that hasn’t diminished my yearning for sex – and both of these guys exhibit muscles and other bulges that crank my imagination into high gear.

To add to the temptation, they’re wearing summer uniforms. Above their black boots and turned-down sock cuffs, each man’s muscular calves and thighs testifies to his physical power. Rugged black shorts and form-fitting shirts with rolled-up sleeves only heighten my fantasies. And when they lift me from my hospital bed to the stretcher, their expertise and strength make my body seem weightless. They’re obviously pros at their jobs.

“Do that again, fellas,” I joke. “That felt great.”

They laugh, so I ask the big, blond guy, “And what’s your real name, Mr. Universe?”

The swarthy guy guffaws. “Just call him Body Beautiful or Alex. He answers to both.”

Alex blushes. “I’ll pay you back for that, Paul.”

“Promises, promises,” Paul retorts.

Their sexual banter is music to my ears. If they aren’t gay, they sure are the next best thing. Their biceps bulge as they go about their chores. Alex starts putting my luggage on the rack under the stretcher. Just then his cell phone rings, and he steps into the main corridor to answer it. At the same time, Paul buckles a leather strap over my shins and then takes another belt and fastens it over my hips. While doing so, he lets his hand graze against the sheet over my cock, which responds instantly. He watches it swell, pushing the sheet up. Then he looks at me with an evil twinkle in his eye. “Well, your vital organs appear to be very healthy. Your friend down there even seems eager.”

“He’s just excited to meet you,” I quip. “But he doesn’t like being confined.”

“I understand completely,” he replies with a devilish smile. “Let’s see what we can do about that when we get you out of here.”

Our eyes make contact, and there’s no mistaking his interest – or mine. He grips my shoulders with his fingers, and I imagine him giving me a full-body massage when we’re both naked.

At that moment, Alex returns. “New dispatcher,” he explains, “but if you’re ready, let’s see if we can get Scott through this crowd and out to the truck.”

In the corridor, hospital staff, patients, and visitors are headed in every direction, but eventually we’re at the emergency exit. Outside, it’s warm and sunny, and the traffic is just as congested as it was inside. Ambulances and other medical transport vehicles crowd the entrance lanes – as do cars and pedestrians on the streets and sidewalks. It’s the city’s normal confusion. I love the energy that fills the air. It feels great to be free of the confinement and boredom of the last week.

As Alex and Paul thread me through the maze, it becomes obvious that they are well known. There’s an easy exchange of small talk and teasing between them and other medics. Eventually, we reach their van, a medium-sized, box-like truck. And after Alex opens the rear doors, they hoist the stretcher inside, with me strapped on it, with the same ease they had displayed earlier. Then Paul says to Alex, “If you don’t mind driving, I’ll keep Scott company in the back.”

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