Ricky came across the personal ad at a meeting of the gay youth group that he attended. Membership was open to young people 13 to 23. One of the older guys had a copy of the local gay newspaper with him. The lad wondered what would constitute qualifications and decided that a photograph of himself in the gym wearing his competition gymnastics outfit would probably do.

It did. He received an appointment for after school on a weekday and the address for Dr. Gibson. Ricky's home was half way between his high school and the Doctor's location. So, the youth stopped there to drop his books and change from school clothes into a sweat shirt and jeans.

There wasn't a physician's shingle outside the apartment building, but the name on the letter box was Howard Gibson, M.D. Ricky pushed the button, announced himself into the intercom and the door buzzed. He had to look around for the elevator, which was a few feet down a corridor to his left. A couple of function rooms were on the right. The elevator door opened and he punched five, the top floor in that building.

506 was half way down the softly illuminated and handsomely carpeted hallway. The building impressed Ricky as the sort of place where a Doctor would live. An Art Deco building, it had been grand when it was constructed and had been well maintained.

The youngster gave the door a light rap with the tarnished brass knocker. The man, who opened the door for him, wore tan slacks and an open necked, button down collared, pin striped shirt, and appeared to be about forty-five. He was some five inches taller than Ricky, his hair was a darker shade of brown and a little longer than the boy's very short cut. The Doctor sported a full, neatly trimmed mustache, but was otherwise clean shaven. His face was quite ordinary and pleasant to look at.

"Come right in, lad," Dr. Gibson said in a friendly, welcoming manner.

Ricky entered a large sitting/dining room, carpeted wall to wall with a few small oriental rugs over that, as accents. It was the sort of room that suited a professional man like the Doctor. To the boy's immediate left was a corridor to a closed door. At the far left corner, he spied the entrance to a galley kitchen. Directly in front the youth looked through a bank of long windows to the park across the street.

"The examination room is this way," Doctor Gibson said. He indicated with a motion of his hand an open door near to the far right corner. Ricky walked kitty corner across the apartment followed by the Doctor.

Inside the youngster saw a pair of smaller windows. Underneath them was a medium sized, wooden desk. The bottom far drawer was open showing a large number of neat file folders. There was also one folder lying on top of the desk pad. White cabinets lined the far wall. Against the opposite wall there was a clothes rack and the usual type of physician's scale with weights and a sliding bar for height measurements.

The narrow room had a bare, hardwood floor. A padded examination table stood at the opposite end of the narrow room. A low stool was at the side of the table to ease a patient's ascent. The furnishings were completed by a desk chair, a smaller, armless one, positioned to the side of the desk, and a couple of stools on casters.

For a moment, Ricky thought that Dr. Gibson was a real doctor and all he was going to get was a physical. But doctors don't generally undress their adolescent male patients. The man began by pulling up the bottom of the youth's sweat shirt. Ricky raised bent arms over his head to facilitate removal. Dr. Gibson hung the sweat shirt on one of the hooks of the clothes rack.

"Take off your shoes for me," the Doctor said. Ricky used the toe of one foot to pry off a sneaker, then the other one.

Dr. Gibson unbuckled the youngster's belt, undid the top button and unzipped the fly. The boy's jeans were lowered. The kid raised his feet one at a time as the Doctor bent to free them. These soon occupied one of the other hooks.

The man pushed Ricky's briefs down past his knees where they fell the rest of the way. "Step out of them for me," he said. The boy stepped on the cotton material with one foot and extracted the other. Repeating the process he rendered himself naked.

"You're sixteen," the Doctor said, as though verifying his memory.

"Yes sir," Ricky affirmed.

"Get up on the scale."

Doctor Gibson took weight and height measurements. "OK, step down," the man said and placed a hand on Ricky's back as the boy turned and complied. "A speck under 5' 5" and exactly 128 pounds."

The Doctor went to the desk and made notations for the file. Then he removed a cloth tape measure from the top drawer. He wrapped it around Ricky's chest, then his waist and left thigh. These measurements were duly recorded.

The man took the kid's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tiled the youngster's head upward. With his fingers he palpated the neck along the line underneath the jaw. "If the lymph nodes are swollen, it could be a sign of infection," he informed Ricky. "These seem OK. You're a very attractive boy," he added, parenthetically.

"Another group are located in the arm pits," the Doctor continued as he placed his hands there, one in each and again felt around with his fingers. This was done firmly enough that the lad was not quite tickled. "And there is a set in the grove where the thigh meets the body." Doctor Gibson checked one side and then the other.

"Since we're here, cough," he instructed. "Again." This said while fingering each testicle in turn.

"OK, up on the table," the Doctor said. "Just sit." The boy climbed up and sat himself on the edge.

"I like the old fashioned way for this," the man announced. He put one hand on Ricky's back and put his ear to the boy's chest in several places in order to listen to the beating heart.

"Lie back now," Doctor Gibson ordered and he assisted the youth in raising his legs and settling himself on his back. The man checked the abdomen for any sign of swelling and the boy's skin for any suspicious blemishes. At the Doctor's command the youngster turned over. After the man had finished looking him over, once again onto his back.

"I'm going to take a sperm sample," the Doctor told Ricky. The boy's penis was already hard, tight against his body and pointing toward his chin. Taking it in hand and raising it, Dr. Gibson then put his mouth over the tip and forced his tongue under the foreskin. He circled the head several times.

Ricky gasped, never having even thought of such a thing before. Of course, he knew about sucking and had tried it a few times with other kids, novices like himself.

Stiffening his lips, the Doctor pushed the boy's foreskin back from the head. He easily took the whole five and a half inches into his mouth and repeatedly swirled his tongue around the shaft. This was followed by pumping up and down, holding the penis firmly with his lips, nearly withdrawing then pushing back down.

The youngster came quickly and thought for a moment that it was over. But Dr. Gibson wasn't done with him yet. Instead the man's mouth returned to hold only the kid's rosebud which was now very sensitive. Ricky felt the Doctor's tongue going round and round, an excruciating sensation. It took considerable effort for him to remain still while this was going on.

In a short time, he was again sexually aroused. It took somewhat longer, but the boy ejaculated into the man's mouth a second time. Still the Doctor wouldn't cease his attentions. This time, Ricky couldn't remain still and his legs and arms jerked uncontrollably. The boy considered retrieving his penis and putting his hands over it to stop the man from continuing, barely restraining himself. Dr. Gibson massaged his testicles vigorously and underneath, between the legs, a finger probed his anus. After what seemed forever, the kid experienced his third, final and most intense orgasm. It was dry, but only the Doctor knew that.

The boy lay exhausted, breathing rapidly. Dr. Gibson placed his ear to Ricky's chest. "Your heart rate is up there now," he said. "Close your eyes and rest. I want to listen to it again in a few minutes."

Ricky had no other plan, his mind a blank. He heard his own breathing, rapid at first, there didn't seem to be enough air, slowly subside to near normal. How good his body felt, glowing and relaxed. He might have nodded off except for the soft sound of the Doctor's return and the ear once more coming into contact. "Mmm, still a little elevated," the man commented, for no one's particular benefit.

"Let's sit you up," Dr. Gibson suggested. He helped the youngster to raise himself and move his legs over the edge of the table. "Stay there, while I talk to you."

One of the Doctor's hands remained on the kid's thigh. "You're in good shape, generally," be began. "Seamen production seems a little low. Probably nothing to be concerned about, but I'd like to test it again in a few days. And do some other tests, I should check your prostate. Now wouldn't be a good time for that, it should be done first."

"That will give you something to think about in the meantime. Would the same time next week be good for you?"

"Yes," Ricky quietly answered.

*****

Check his prostate. That was something to think about all right. To be done first and in the old fashioned way, no doubt. But what reason was there not to follow Doctor's orders, since he could fully expect to be treated very well.

When it happened, it was standing up leaning his elbows on the examination table. His feet were spread apart, the man's hands on his hips. Later, lying on the table, after everything else had been accomplished, Ricky noticed with some pleasure the warmth he felt in his bottom going along so nicely with the rest.

After that second visit, the two made a practice of taking tea together before the boy left for his other activities of the day. He had it with milk and sugar and there was always a savory of some sort and a choice of cookies. Dr. Gibson took an interest in his studies and his progress in gymnastics.

Ricky was surprised and pleased the first time Dr. Gibson appeared in the bleachers at one of the competitions. He began to think that there might be more to his relationship than merely doctor-patient. Nor was that entirely dispelled when the youngster saw another boy, who he recognized as a member of the swimming team, arriving at the apartment building just as he happened to be passing on a Saturday morning. He wondered, though, if he might find Dr. Gibson watching the next swimming meet should he happen to attend it himself.

He felt no jealousy, however. Ricky would have continued keeping his appointments with Dr. Gibson even if he had to wait in line. They satisfied something deep inside himself.

In reflection, the youngster thought that perhaps his interest and success in gymnastics had something to do with a degree of sexual exhibitionism. He liked having a good body and showing it off. He liked being admired for his physique, being looked at and desired. This affected the way he presented himself, before, during and after his performances in the various events. Perhaps, there was some subtle influence of this on the judges' subsequent ratings.

*****

When Ricky graduated from high school and was about to set off for Villanova on an athletic scholarship, Dr. Gibson gave him a lap top computer as a graduation present. The Doctor had just purchased a new one, he explained, and he thought Ricky could make good use of his old machine. It was, in fact, only a year old, and the Doctor had no real need of a replacement, but it made the gift more acceptable to both of them.

He told the boy that he hoped he would visit for tea, whenever he was in town on vacation. A standing invitation, Dr. Gibson called it. He laughed, but Ricky knew that the man meant that their relationship, as it had been, was over. The youth had outgrown School Doctor's range.

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