Date: Fri, 7 Nov 2014 09:58:29 -0500
From: Robert Mooney <briarwriter@gmail.com>
Subject: Gary's Problem, Chapter 7, Male/Adult friends

This is a work of fiction, from my over-fertile mind, based on a scenario I
dreamed up and made note of some time ago. Writing works that way for me, a
lot.
  Writing for Nifty is new to me. I love the service, though, and hope
everyone donates whatever they can to help support it. It really is the
best place to express yourself. Please donate as much as you can.
   If you're not supposed to be reading male-male sex stories, don't read
any further. If it's illegal to read erotic material where you live, please
leave.
   Everyone else, have fun.
   Positive comments are welcome at briarwriter@gmail.com


Gary's Problem
Chapter 7


  When I awoke, I'd fallen out of Gary, but was still wrapped around him. I
checked the clock and knew it was time to rise.
   "Time to get up, babe. Do you have to pee?" I asked, as I rewound myself
from him gently. He stretched! With stubs reaching instead of limbs, it was
interesting and sexy.
   "I guess, I'd better, huh?" he replied. "How long did we get?" he asked.
   "40 minutes, actually," I answered. "Did you sleep OK?" I asked.

   "I find I always do, after we have sex. Recharging, kinda'." He smiled
as I lifted him into his saddle, strapped him in, and wheeled him to the
bathroom. The transport frame we were using today, of those we've been
trying for the University teams for assessment, was almost too wide to fit
through the door. We managed though, and I got us in position. Since I was
nude, too, I controlled both of our dicks, and we both had to piss hard, so
we just let it go.
   "Why is pissing sexy?" Gary asked.
   "Pissing together is sexy," I corrected.
   "You're right, of course, but gawd this feels good!" he said as we were
both down to residuals. We finished, our dicks a little plumper than usual,
maybe, but we were ready to meet the word. I dressed Gary...easy on, easy
off. I was easy, too: shorts and a t-shirt. Just as we finished, there was
a knock at the door. I rolled Gary into the living room and opened the
door.

   "Hi Darby! Good timing. How's it goin'?"
   "Fine Ben," he said, looking from me to Gary, to me again. "Did you boys
have a nice nap?" he grinned.
   "We did, sir," Gary charged ahead, "How's everything going?"
   The smile Darby gave us let us know that he was happy for us. "Well," he
started, "come look, oh, and this might help."  He produced four bicycle
wheels, attached to a frame that slipped on and secured Gary's saddle
frame, slicker than snot, enabling him to have a relatively smooth ride
across the lawn. Gary was situated between 4 tires, like protectors and had
full use of his frame, in particular, the raising and lowering of himself
in it. It was bulkier than just his frame, because of the tires, but seemed
very compact. It took less than a minute to set him up, and we were on our
way to survey our workers' progress.

   We went toward the gate first. Prefab columns rose on either side of the
driveway, and a privacy fence raced from each, across the back of the
property and back down the sides, though they'd only reached a quarter of
the distance to the beach so far. Housing for an electronic gate was
attached to the columns and they were already running wire, underground, to
the house.

  There were about 10 workers in all, 8 men and 2 women. One of the women
was bigger than most of the men, and managed quite well on a curved piece
of metal instead of her left leg, thank you. Several of Darby's workers
were Vets, I found, several of them disabled vets, several were amps. Some
others were local supporters, volunteering their time and energy, Those
went home at night but, the main body of the team was camped in our yard,
down near the water. No one approached us unless we approached them. As we
drove between them, surveying the work, they all looked in awe of this
beautiful, damaged man.
   "I want to thank all of you for the work you're doing here." Gary said
from his mobile saddle, to the group.
   "Thank you, Gary!" one voice said, and then all the voices joined in.

   We rolled closer to the water, a first for Gary in a while. At the
water's edge, he commented, "that's strange. I can feel the water lapping
at feet I don't have."
   "Probably a shadow memory," Darby interjected. "I get those
occasionally, too. Wait'll you get prosthetic legs. It'll take a while, but
you will essentially have legs again. Arms are not so
straightforward. They're way more complex, but one day, it'll come. I read
today where a firm in Sweden is developing an arm that hooks the nerve
endings of your arm to a computer inside the arm. They claim that a wearer
can even feel with it.
   This beast I call my right arm, is heavier than hell, but helpful in
some situations. I'm testing this one for Cal Tech. It's OK, but I sure
wish I had my arms back."

   "You do amazingly well, considering your loss," I reminded him.
   "Yea, it's just plain ole' adaptation, Ben. For instance, I've had these
legs for a little over a year, after many trials, and they work so well,
they're like my own now. But because the arm prosthetics requires so much
more, I get teased with one ability on one model and another ability I used
to have on another model, but never together. Competition in the field is
getting people interested in prosthetics, especially since the wars have
left so many maimed, but the players do not seem to work together but seem
to be fighting for dominance or something.. It's strange.

  "How long should I expect, Darby?" Gary asked.
   "Assuming all other things equal, I'd bet your round will begin
soon. Especially with the media's interest in the human-interest story they
can't have.
     "It would help though, Ben, if you could be a little more tolerant of
the folks in town. I know pity can be stifling, but if you could try not
freaking out on them, and pushing them away, it would help the cause, a
lot. Don't get me wrong, I could see in the video that you were rushed
upon. Your training emerged perfectly. You separated yourself politely, and
sorta' submissively,(which is good) and left. That was the way we're
trained to react. But your neighbors just want to...touch you somehow.
     "People don't understand that when they crowd like that, we remember
another time, another culture, another crowd, in total stress, not knowing
if or who might be a suicide bomber, or have a gun, and being cautious at
all times.
 I know it's hard for the wounded to relate to, but we're in friendly
territory now. We've always got to remember that.
   "You saw me on video?" I asked surprised.
   "Yea, it's 2012 dude. Everybody has cameras. You were hot in it, too, I
might add, as a fellow noticer of all things male."
   "Ooo, I want to see them. Can I?" Gary was panting, like a dog.
   I cracked up, but then I realized that my ward, here, hadn't cum in a
while, and looked at him. He glared back playfully with a needful look on
his face.
   Darby was watching this display as it unfolded. "You guys are gonna be
good together, I think," he said finally. "Things are gonna change for you
though, no matter what you do.  But how you are together is critical. Like
I said, I've helped a lot of guys, but you two are different, somehow. I
wish you both all kinds of luck."
   "Thanks Darby," Gary and I said together.
   He smiled. "See what I mean?"