Date: Wed, 5 Nov 2003 22:39:50 -0500
From: Joe e Almore <jebalemore@juno.com>
Subject: "Love-ABLE"  Gay Male/Relationships

This is a story about sex between two thirty-something guys... one of
whom is physically challenged.  You know the drill: Don't read this if
you aren't legally allowed to do so.  And don't STEAL it!


"Love-ABLE"
by
Jeb Alemore


"Happy Birthday, Partner!"

Troy stretched as Brent placed kisses on his cheeks and forehead.  It was
7 a.m.  Brent, his naked body against Troy's, gently caressed his partner
awake.

Troy, definitely not a morning person, could only manage, "Ummm.
G'morning.  Thank you."

"Here..." Brent rolled over toward the nightstand and picked up a tray.
He held it out to Troy,  "breakfast in bed, birthday boy!"  His grin
spread from ear to ear.

On the tray were two small bowls, one containing strawberry jam, another
cream cheese.  Throwing back the sheet from Troy's body, Brent's breath
caught in his lungs.  Though they had been living together for over a
year, Brent was still in awe of his partner's physique: The broad
shoulders, tan skin, the thick carpet of jet black hair running from the
base of Troy's neck past his navel, to combine with the curly black pubes
around the thick cock.  Troy's morning erection stretched his dick to its
full eight-inch length.  "For an old man of thirty-five," Brent said,
"you're still a mighty hot man!"

"You're good for my ego."  Troy admired

"I'll give some you ego, Buddy!"  Brent picked up a spoon and dug into
the softened cream cheese started to spread the thick goo onto Troy's
dick.

"What are you doing?"  Troy was flabbergasted.

"When I said 'breakfast in bed' I wasn't talking about you having
breakfast in bed.  I'm eating breakfast in bed ...and you're it!"
Brent had spread the cream cheese along Troy's raging cock and plopped a
healthy spoonful of strawberry jam on top of it.  He bent down, his mouth
near the base, licking the thick, white cream from Troy's rod.  Smiling,
Troy lay back and enjoyed the feeling in his cock as Brent lapped at the
breakfast sausage, resting one hand gently on the back of Brent's head,
his fingers raking through Brent's straight, blond hair.  With his other
hand, Troy reached up and tweaked his own left nipple.  Brent's tongue
spread the jam around so that a morsel fell on Troy's balls.
"Ooops!  I'm such a messy eater!  Guess I'll have to clean that up!"
Brent's tongue dipped down onto Troy's furry ballsack, scooping up the
blob of jam.  Troy's body stiffened; he loved to have his balls toyed
with.  He moaned loudly as Brent took the left, then the right, testicle
into his warm, wet, sticky mouth.  Brent's cheeks caved in as he gently
sucked Troy's furry sperm factories.

"Yeah!  Oh, yeah!  Eat it, Brent!"  Troy urged him.  The need to reach
down and start jacking his cock was overwhelming, but he didn't want to
keep Brent from his breakfast.

With Troy's balls clean - but sticky - Brent concentrated his efforts on
the shaft, working his way upward, reveling in the taste and texture.

"I love this all-natural breakfast food," Brent cooed.  The sweetness of
the jam and the thick consistency of the cream cheese combined with the
salty/sweaty taste of Troy's silky, hard cock made him to decide that he
was not going to save this treat just for breakfast anymore - nor would
he have it only once a year!

As Brent tongued and nipped his way toward the head, Troy's dick added a
new taste to the collection:  A slow, steady stream of precum oozing from
his piss slit.  Brent's tongue snaked out from his lips as he licked the
clear, thick prejizz, also finding a taste of jam and cheese to go with
it.

"MMMMM!"  Brent sat up and smacked his lips.  "Nothing anybody'd ever
serve for brunch, that's for sure!"

Brent again dove for Troy's crotch, and Troy's cock disappeared into his
mouth inch by meaty inch.  Troy was helpless to stop him, and didn't want
to!!  He felt Brent smacking the tasty con-COCK-tion, swallowing the
sticky condiments, and Troy's meat, all at the same time.  Troy felt a
couple of sticky fingers stealing their way into his twitching ass,
pressing unexpectedly through his sphincter.  Troy barked a short "Ah!"
Brent stopped his probing, but continued slurping on Troy's pole.  When
Brent felt the assring relax, he pressed his fingers further, stretching
the hole, finding Troy's sweet spot.  Brent stopped sucking for a moment
to spread Troy's legs apart with his other hand and gain better access to
Troy's hole.  He took Troy's well-eaten dick into his mouth again.

This time, Brent sucked Troy's dick like it was a banquet!  He pressed
his lips against the shaft so he could feel every vein and bump in his
man's rock-hard rod as he went the distance down to the root, all the
while keeping his fingers busy against Troy's prostate.  When he felt the
head knocking at the door of his throat, Brent swallowed.  The taste and
texture of Troy's dick, along with the jam and cheese, sent him to a
place he'd never been before!!

Troy's hand found it's way to the back of Brent's head once again, not
caressing this time, but pressing.  More insistent.  Troy's constant
moans filled the bedroom as he willed his hips forward, settling for
shoving Brent's head onto his dick.  Harder.  Deeper.  Deeper still.
Brent swallowed again.

"AHHHGGGHHHHH!"  The first tinge of orgasm flashed between Troy's brain
and the base of his cock.  He quickly took his hand from Brent's head,
wanting Brent to taste the full effect of his creation.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," Brent hummed against Troy's dick.  Troy's body jerked
when the first spurts of his semen landed on Brent's tongue. Troy's
breaths came deep and heavy as volley after volley of his man cream shot
into Brent's mouth.  Brent sat up and smacked his lips after Troy's
orgasm subsided.  He leaned over and kissed his partner, using his tongue
to spread but a part of Troy's voluminous load into Brent's mouth and
over his tongue.  The combination of flavors in this unique breakfast
nearly sent Brent into his own orgasm; the taste was that ...original!

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! Suck me!  Oooooh, suck it, Brent!"  The ecstasy in
Troy's voice only inspired Brent all the more.  His mouth couldn't hold
all the manjuice that Troy offered, some of the white cream seeped from
the corners of his mouth.  The pale whiteness of Troy's load a curious
contrast to the stark whiteness against the remnants of  the cream cheese
that Brent's mouth and tongue missed.

They lay on the bed, pressed together and spent.  Troy's face against
Brent's smooth chest on top of his shapely right pec.  Brent's fingers
traced through the hair on Troy's arms and chest.

"That tasted.... great!" was Troy's sighing description.

"Less filling."  Brent's cynicism sounded like the old beer commercial.
Troy laughed.

"What do you call it?" Troy asked.

"Cream cheese and jam ...on-a-stick!,'" Brent invented the name on the
spot, Troy could tell.

Brent gave Troy a peck on the forehead.  "Gotta go."

"Where?  I thought you took the day off."

Brent grabbed a towel from the closet, heading for the bathroom.  "Places
to go, people to see, things to do!"  Troy heard water running in the
basin for a few moments and Brent returned with two hand towels, one damp
and warm, the other dry.  He began cleaning the stickiness from Troy's
pelvis.

"Here," Brent said, handing Troy the terrycloth, "you can finish this up
yourself, right?"  He was back in the bathroom in a flash.

Troy heard the water splashing into the bathtub as Brent opened the
faucet, the sound changed when the shower started running.  Troy lay in
bed for a minute, idly wiping up and listening to the sounds of Brent in
the shower.  He let himself imagine how Brent showered:  Every movement
deft and precise, nothing wasted.  Brent's body was the same.  Nothing
wasted, nothing extra.  From his smooth skin and wide shoulders to his
strong legs.  His cock, not as thick
as Troy's, but just as long, nestled at the base of his V-shaped torso.
Troy visualized Brent washing that ripped stomach of his; running his
hands over those smooth, cream-colored buttocks.  Troy believed that
Brent "hung the moon" ...and had a well-hung moon!

The water stopped running.  Troy reached for his lift bar above the bed
and pulled himself up, deciding he could manage a shower by himself
today.  He scooped up his legs behind his knees and swung them down to
the floor.  By the time Brent had come out of the bathroom, Troy was
easing himself into his chair.  Brent strode out of the bathroom, drying
his hair.  As Brent was getting dressed, Troy noticed again, his every
move was purposeful, nothing extraneous.  From opening the bureau drawer,
pulling out a pair of white Fruit-of-the-Looms to putting on his socks,
Brent moved like he meant business.

"When is Elaine coming over?" Brent asked, shucking his left, then his
right leg into a pair of jeans.

"She's supposed to call first."  Elaine is Troy's best friend.  They had
a tradition of going shopping on his birthday.

"Well, you two have a good time."  Troy pulled on a t-shirt, picked up
his wallet from the dresser and stuffed it in his right back pocket.
"I'll probably be here when you get back."

"Good," Troy replied, "does that mean I'll feed you again?"  Troy's smile
was wide and devilish.

"It means," Brent was tying his red Chucks, "that I'll be here when you
get back."  Troy had the feeling that his breakfast session was only the
beginning of Brent's plans to celebrate his birthday.  There was much
more to come.
Brent got up from the bed and walked over to Troy.  "I'll see you in
awhile," he said, leaning down to give Troy a kiss.  "You gonna be okay
...getting into the shower and all?" he asked.

"Yeah.  I'll be fine."

"Okay.  I'll believe you," he kissed Troy on the forehead, "but if you're
lying to me, there'll be Hell to pay!  I don't want to come back here to
find you writhing on the floor.  There's only one place I wanna see you
writhing, and that's in bed!  See ya!"

"See ya!"  Brent strode down the hall and Troy heard the front door open
and close, the key turn in the deadbolt as he wheeled himself into the
bathroom.

**********

"Come on Troy!!  Hurry up!  We've got to get going!"

"Almost ready!" Troy shouted through the bathroom door.  He patted a
couple of hairs in place and smiled devilishly.  He knew Elaine liked to
shop, but it was his birthday and he also knew she was up to something.
He couldn't tell what yet, but she wanted him out of the apartment now!
He felt a twinge of smugness making her wait.  He twisted in his
wheelchair and leaned in closer to the mirror to take stock:  Although
his hairline was a little higher than last year,
his chest wasn't sagging since he played wheelchair basketball twice a
week at the "Y" to keep his upper body in shape.  His smile still
inviting and his eyes were still bright, despite the anguish he'd been
through.

He spoke softly to his reflection, "Well, you're 35 now, old man.
Officially 'middle aged'."

"...and getting senile!  You're talking to yourself in the mirror!!"
Elaine had appeared in the doorway.    You're gorgeous!  Let's go!"  Troy
had to smile again.  With friends like Elaine, knew he'd be all right.

Troy pretended to be angry, "Okay, okay!  Keep your shirt on.  I'm
ready."  He wheeled through the bathroom door, almost nipping her ankles
with his chair.
Elaine beat him to the front door, opened it, and walked out ahead of
him, "It wouldn't matter to you if I did lose my shirt," she chided.

"Of course it would," he countered, "I'd be concerned that you might
catch pneumonia!"

"You're terrible for my ego!" Elaine wailed.

"I guess so."  Although they sniped at each other like a couple of eight
year-olds, Troy Howard Walker, III and Elaine Banks had been friends for
years.  She was the first person he told that he was gay when he was
sixteen and Elaine was nineteen.  Troy was the first person she told
about her pregnancy when she was eighteen.  Elaine was there, next to his
mother, when he woke up from his diving accident; she was always there.
Best friends are.

Troy heaved himself into the front seat of her car while she held his
chair.   She stored it in the trunk as Troy settled himself into the
passenger seat.  They chatted and carried on during the drive to the
mall.

"You're thirty-five," she said "I hereby give you permission to spoil
yourself... and I'll help.  I've got all my credit cards in my handbag
and I'm ready for some retail therapy!"

"Thanks, Elaine.  But I have my own money."

"Yeah, and I'm sure you'll spend it on something you need, Mr.
Practical."

"Always."

"How are things between you and Brent?"  He was surprised at her sudden
change of subject, since she was usually so single-minded - especially
when shopping and spending money were on the agenda.

"Okay."

"Just, 'okay'?"

"Well, I haven't thrown a tantrum yet that's driven him away."

"He's pretty determined to love you in spite of yourself," Elaine
laughed.

Troy smiled.  She was right about that:  Brent had lived through the
apathy and pseudo-self-pity Troy dealt out and still didn't - wouldn't -
go away.  Other than Elaine, Brent was probably the only person who
wouldn't let Troy get away with Troy.  No matter what he was feeling, no
matter what he might be railing against, Brent would just stop and
quietly say, "Troy:  Get over yourself."  Brent would just not feel sorry
for him and, by doing so, would not allow Troy feel sorry for himself
either.  "'Determined' is an understatement," Troy said.

"What's he getting you for your birthday?"

"I honestly don't know.  He just said that it's something I've wanted for
a long time."  Troy had the feeling that Elaine asked the question to
throw suspicion away from herself; that she knew exactly what Brent had
in mind for his birthday.

They stayed at the mall for nearly four hours.  Troy insisted on buying
lunch for the two of them in the food court.  In her shopping frenzy,
Elaine found bargain after bargain.  She bought Troy two pair of jeans
for his birthday and two pair for her 18 year-old son, John, plus a new
shirt from The Gap.  Troy found a couple of new accounting programs at
Babbage's.

At The Limited, Troy knew that Elaine would spiral into retail O.D.
After waiting for her for over an hour, he couldn't help but wonder what
was really happening.  Shop-a-holic that she might be, Troy felt as if
she was stalling; she didn't want to take him home.  When she leisurely
strolled him in his chair across the parking lot back to the car, Troy
was convinced.  Normally she nearly sprinted out of the mall and raced
back home to try on her new clothes or play with her new stuff.  She was
definitely stalling!

When they arrived, Brent's van was parked in front of the apartment.
After getting his chair out of the trunk and Troy settled into it, Elaine
opened the door for him to wheel in.  Elaine left the door open behind
her.

John was in the kitchen, taking a soda out of the refrigerator.

"Hi, Troy!  Happy Birthday!" John greeted him.

"Hi, John.  Thanks."

Elaine put the bags of Troy's stuff on the sofa.

"Hi, Honey!  Happy Birthday!!"  Brent came into the living room and gave
his buddy a kiss. "Hi, Elaine," he kissed her on the cheek.

"Hi, Brent.  Troy, it was fun.  Let's go, John."

"But, Mom... I..."

"Let's GO, John."  Elaine's abruptness surprised Troy.  She was usually
eager to hang around and chat with them.  "I'll call you later."  She
kissed his forehead and was out the door.

John, following behind, a little confused and disappointed, left them
with a quiet "Bye!" and a little wave as he closed the door behind him.

Brent called after him, "Bye, John.  ...and thanks!"

"What is going on around here?" Brent demanded.  "'Thanks' for what?" He
twisted in his chair to see John closing the door behind him.  "Why did
they just up and leave like that?"

"My!  Aren't we just full of questions today?"  Brent's grin made Troy's
heart thump in his chest.  There was nothing halfway with Brent; he knew
that.  All or nothing.  Whatever Brent had in mind, Troy knew that it
would be special ...and especially for him.

"I guess they wanted us to be alone so I could give you your birthday
present." Troy leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Oh."  Brent had been so tight-lipped about his birthday present that
Troy had stopped asking about it. Every time he had asked, Brent nearly
threw a fit.

"Come on, it's in the bedroom."  Brent left the room.

"Can't you just bring it in here?" Troy shouted after him.

"No, I can't!  Come on!"

Troy wheeled down the hallway into the bedroom.  Brent was standing by
the bed.  With a gesture that made him look like one of the models on
"The Price Is Right", he said,  "I made it myself," his voice full of
pride.

Troy's gaze traveled to the - thing - that Brent had fashioned.  It
consisted of a large box similar to a garage door opener bolted to the
ceiling.  A series of airplane cables attached to pulleys extended from
the box.  The cables connected to a kind of leather "diaper" lying flat
on the bed.  In the center of the bed lay  a wedge-shaped, torso-sized
foam "pillow",  a body-shaped indentation carved into the center of it
beside the leather piece.  Lying nearby was a palm-sized remote control
with several push buttons.

"What the hell....?"  Troy was amazed.  He'd not seen anything like it
since his days of physical therapy after his accident.

"It's ready for its - uh - maiden voyage," Brent said, his eyes sparkling
and alert, "...and I'm the 'maiden!'"

Brent had already taken off his shirt and then leaned down to take Troy
out of his chair.  Reflexively, Troy placed his arms around Brent's neck
and allowed himself to be extracted, twisting his head from side to side
to keep from taking his eyes off Brent's creation.

Brent planted another warm kiss on Troy's lips.  His tongue brushed
against Troy's teeth as he seated him on the edge of the bed.  Then Brent
knelt to take off Troy's shoes.

"Brent?  What IS this thing?"

"Your birthday present," Brent said, not looking up.

"That much I got," Troy retorted.  Taking another suspicious gaze at
the... thing, he said, "It looks almost painful.  Like one of those
objects of torture they used on me at the hospital."

"Well," Brent replied, "that depends on your perspective."  Brent's face
burst into a wide, sunny grin as he opened Troy's belt and wriggled him
out of his pants and briefs.  "I look at it as giving you something you
said you've always wanted..." he paused, Troy knew why.  As long as
they'd known each other, Brent knew he still hated hearing the words,
"...since your accident."

Troy unbuttoned his shirt, took it off and smiled at the happy,
boisterous 32 year-old in front of him.  Since they had met, Brent had
always been the one to nail Troy on his bouts of depression and severe
self-pity.  Brent knew how to ignore Troy's perceived limitations of
Troy's "inabilities," while he accepted and accommodated for the actual
ones.  Brent asked him a few months ago:  "What's the one thing that
you've wanted to do that you can't do ...since the accident?"

Troy had had the answer ready:  "I want to fuck." he said.

"Huh?  ...But you do!"  Brent countered.  "And quite well, too!!  I just
hop on top of you and ride..."

"That's just it, Brent.  You are on top of me.  What I really miss is
BEING on top.  I don't know, it's just that I miss being able to do that
- as a man.  It's the one thing I've missed for the ten years I've been
paralyzed."

"Oh."  Brent got very quiet after that.  Troy couldn't tell if he'd hurt
Brent's feelings or if Brent's mechanical engineer's brain was turning.

Naked, Brent hopped up on the bed leaving Troy seated on the side where
Brent had placed him.  Whatever Troy could do, Brent let him do and
getting himself settled into bed was one of the things that Troy could
do.  Troy shoved his hands against the mattress and slid himself onto it,
dragging his legs behind him.  Brent was lying on his back, naked, his
upper body cradled in the indentation of the foam support.  Troy noticed
that the shape of the foam piece forced Brent's shoulders to lie on the
mattress.  Brent's ass looked so inviting, tipped in an upward angle.
Troy sidled onto the bed next to Brent, laying his head on Brent's
stomach.

"Roll over on your stomach," Brent instructed him.

Troy did so, rolling onto the leather "diaper" laid out flat on the bed
next to him.  Brent sat up and reached for the leather harness.  "Here,"
he said, guiding Troy's hands to his sides, "you just bring the rear flap
up to your waist, loop the Velcro straps through the 'C' rings and voila!
You're ready!"

Troy was clueless.  "Yeah!  But for WHAT?" he demanded.

The leather hugged against Troy's lower body like a soft pair of briefs.
His cock and ass were exposed.  Troy felt "bound" - but not "in bondage."
The straps of the leather harness were soft against his skin, making him
feel as if he were being hugged rather than held captive.  Brent handed
him the remote control which Troy examined.  It's shape and size like a
TV remote control, the red and green buttons were labeled with plastic
label tape:  "U", "F", "S", "D" and "CIMA".  At the upper end of the
handset was a ribbed thumbwheel with the letters "S" and "F" and arrows
pointing the appropriate direction.

"Press 'U'", Brent said.

Troy did.  Motors in the box on the ceiling started to whirr, pulling the
cables, the leather harness/vest - and Troy - gently upward.  He felt the
cool leather tighten against his hips, his cock lifted free from the bed
and hung in the air; his knees remaining on the bed when the motor
stopped.  Suspended over his humpy partner ,, Troy looked down at Brent
and grinned.

"That's the 'up' button," Brent said, grinning back.

Troy felt his cock harden.  Partly from gratitude for his partner's
effort; partly from the pressure that the supple leather placed against
his groin.  Although Troy's legs didn't have the muscle control and
strength to allow him to walk or to support his body enough to stand, he
still had a very active visual sense, and the sight of this sexy and
caring man beneath him caused his cock to stir.

Brent slithered down on the bed and took Troy's cock into his mouth,
gently sucking Troy's rod to a more firm erection.  Troy responded almost
immediately and he placed his hands on Brent's head, running his fingers
through the man's blonde curls, pressing Brent's lips against his pubes.
The feeling that he was doing this from above was more erotic than he
recalled.

Brent removed his mouth from Troy's dick and reached into the nightstand
drawer for a condom and the lubricant.

"I didn't make this thing for sucking," he stated as he tore open the
pouch with his teeth, rolled the latex tube down Troy's raging 8-inch
hard-on and laved a dollop of the lube onto Troy's cock.  With three
fingers, he spread the excess on his own twitching, eager ass.  Brent
positioned himself within the foam indention.  Troy noticed that the
cables suspended him at just the proper angle for his raging cock to
enter Brent's ass.  As Troy reached down and pointed his rock-hard cock
toward Brent's twitching hole.  Brent reached for the leather loops on
either side of the harness and pulled Troy toward him.  Troy's cock,
dripping inside the latex sheath and nearly ready to pop its load, slowly
eased past Brent's assring.  The excitement for Troy was nearly too much;
the love he felt for this man - for his ingenuity, for his concern -
nearly tipped his climax over the edge as his eight-incher slid into the
warmth of Brent's hole.  True, it was for the umpteenth time, but it
felt, for Troy, like the very first time since it was the first time
since they'd been together that he was on top!  Brent leaned up and
tenderly kissed him as he reached for the remote, placing Troy's finger
on the "D" button and pressing it for a second.

The machine clicked and whirred again.  Troy was slowly lowered closer to
his buddy as long as Brent pressed the button.  His dick traveled into
Brent's hole up to the hilt.  Brent sighed as he welcomed Troy into his
body from this position.  He released the button.

"AHHHH!" Brent sighed, "that's the 'down' button," Brent explained.  His
breathing deeper now, much more excited.

With his cock planted deep into his buddy's ass, Troy realized that they
were giving to each other equally:  Brent gave Troy the mobility he'd
wished for; Troy gave Brent his love, the feeling of Troy's hard cock in
his ass.  Brent accepted the gift eagerly - and hungrily.  The
wedge-shaped pillow held Brent's ass in place so he wouldn't flounce all
over the bed and giving Troy the best possible access to his partner's
love hole.  Troy felt his cock, hard but resting easily inside Brent,
begin to soften slightly.  They kissed again.

"This is great, Buddy," he whispered as he smoothed Brent's hair.  "But
I'm just hanging here.  You still have to do all the work."

The devilment returned to Brent's eyes.  Reaching for the control, he
said,
"Wanna bet?"

Demonstrating to Troy the functions, Brent told him, "See?  You take the
thumbwheel and turn it down to 'S' - that's 'slow' - as far as it will
go.... then, you press 'F'.'"  He handed the pad to Troy.

Troy placed his thumb on the "F" button.  "You ready?" he asked.

"Ready...." Brent said, as Troy felt his buddy's ass tense slightly.
Troy could tell that Brent, too, was a little concerned over whether the
thing would work.

"I'm not going to end up flattened against the ceiling like Dabney
Coleman did in '9 to 5' am I?"

"I honestly don't know," Brent replied.

Troy pressed the button.

The motors above them began to hum as Troy felt the cables gently
pull-push him in and out of Brent's manhole.  Brent smiled.  Not that his
invention worked, but from the wonderful feeling of his buddy's hard dick
sliding into and out of him.  Troy, feeling the cables tugging his hips
and the strain of the leather against his body only added to the
intensity of his already hard cock.  Troy wasn't sure which was more
full:  His raging cock for this sexy man beneath him ...or his
near-bursting heart for the caring of the man beneath him, for his
giving, for his warmth.

Brent moaned.  "Ah!!  That's niiiice, Buddy!!  That button stands for
'fuck.'  And I want you to turn it up."

Troy took the control pad in his hand and eased the thumbwheel toward "F"
- which he correctly assumed meant "fast" - a couple of notches.  The
motors above him responded to the command, it sped up, sending his hips
against Brent's ass at a faster tempo.  "Uh... uh... UH!"  Brent grunted.

"Too much, Buddy?"

"No..." Brent panted, "gimme more!"

Troy turned the thumbwheel two more notches toward "F".  The motor
whirred at a higher pitch, the cables pulled and tugged at his hips,
slamming his dick into his buddy's ass a little faster.  Brent writhed on
the bed - as much as the pillow support would let him - tossing his head
from side-to-side, he pulled his knees toward his chest and met Troy's
thrusts with those of his own.

"Oh!!  Oooooh!  Yeahhhh!  Gimme it, Troy!  That's it!!"  Brent urged his
partner on.  They'd both forgotten the mechanical apparatus above them;
the feelings in Brent's ass and Troy's cock brought them to a new level
of closeness and sexuality, totally devoid of the mechanical.  All they
felt was each others' flesh against each other's flesh - and the love
that went along with it.
Troy was beaming!!  He palmed Brent's smooth chest.  He grasped his
partner's shoulders, pulling Brent toward him with every lunge.  "I'm
fucking you!  I'm fucking you!!  I'm fucking you, Brent!!" he shouted.
He wanted everyone to know how much he loved his man.  And how much his
man loved him for doing this.

"Yeah!!"  Brent urged.  "Give it to your man!!  I want it!!"  Gasping,
almost dizzy from the fucking he was getting, Brent reached for the
control pad and pressed the button marked "CIMA."

Scccrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  The machine above them started
to sound like a clogged vacuum cleaner as the instrument surged to
maximum speed!  The cables pulled against the leather sling and Troy's
hips so that his dick came out of Brent's ass to just leaving the head
inside and slammed the hard rod home again, and again... and again... and
again!!  The force of Troy's groin caused a "slap-slap-slap" of his balls
against Brent's ass.

"I hear it!!  I hear it!!  I hear it, Brent!!" Troy gasped.

"Hear ...ugh... What? ...Ugh!" Was all Brent could get out between stabs
of Troy's cock into his ravaged anus.

"My balls!!" Troy yelled.  "My balls against your sweet ass!!  It sounds
so goooood!!! Ah!  Ah!! AH!!  AhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHH!"  His cock fired the
first rounds of hot seed into the rubber surrounded by Brent's gripping
hole.  Volley after volley filled the sheath while Brent, furiously
jacking his cock, came too.  The sweet spunk flew between them and struck
first Troy's furry, rounded pecs and the other, shorter, spurts arced
upward and landed on Brent's smooth chest.

"Gotta stop!" Troy panted.  He was still slamming against Brent, his
softening dick sensitive and aching.  The motor above them still keening
its one-note tune.

Brent reached for the control pad and hit the "S" button.  The machine
gently slowed and stopped.

Troy collapsed atop his inventive man.  Still gasping for breath, he
laved Brent's face, neck and chest, with kisses, straining to bend down
far enough to lick up the semen from Brent's chest and stomach as he
lovingly caressed his buddy.

"'Happy Birthday,' Troy," Brent grinned.

"If it's my birthday," Troy smiled back at his friend, "how come you look
like you just got a present!?"

"I set it up that way," Brent chided him.

"Yeah," Troy sighed as he snuggled into Brent's chest, Brent wrapping his
arms around him, "I guess you did."  Troy's chest heaved as he gasped for
air after the workout.

"No... physical... therapy," he panted, "was ever... like that!" He
wheezed.  "Not nearly as fun, either!"

"I know!"  Brent was simply glowing!!  Not only from the knowledge that
his invention worked but from the thorough and complete fucking he'd just
gotten from his lover.

"Brent?"

"Yeah, Buddy?"

"What does 'CIMA' on this button mean?"

It surprised Troy, enormously, when Brent, the usually self-assured and
ever-confident Brent, actually blushed!  The color rushed to his face and
stayed there for several seconds.  He didn't respond.

"C'mon!" Troy urged, "What does it mean?"

"Well..." Brent's face reddened even more; he turned his face toward the
wall,

"I thought it would be funny, but since you asked, I'm kind of
embarrassed to tell you."

"Tell me.  Please?"

"It means.... 'Come In My Ass'!"

Troy burst into laughter.  He hugged and kissed his partner and laughed
some more.

They continued their "beta testing" of "The Missionary" - the name came
from the position it allowed the physically-challenged - for the rest of
the afternoon; putting it through it's paces.  They ran it slow and easy
for an hour, fast and furious for ten minutes.  In the final "test," Troy
pressed the "CIMA" button as soon as he was entrenched in Brent's hole,
and it took him over twenty minutes to "CIMA."  At the end of that fourth
- and final, for that day - "test," Brent's ass and Troy's cock were
sore, spent - and completely satisfied.

"So?  Do you like your present?"  Elaine's chirped over the phone when
she called the next day.  Troy could tell that she was satisfied with her
part in keeping him away while Brent and John installed the gizmo.

"What do you think?" Troy responded to her question with a question.

"That means:  'Hell, yeah!'" Elaine shouted into the phone.

The news of Brent's invention was not to be kept to themselves for long
as other physically-challenged men; friends of Troy's - straight and gay
- began calling Brent to ask him to make them a replica of his machine.
With Troy's marketing skills and a heartfelt, first-hand account of how
well "The Missionary" performed - along with a few of Brent's design
improvements - he was able to sweet-talk some investors into helping them
set up shop as "LoveAbilities, Inc. ...For the active
physically-challenged lovers."

Ads in a number of magazines for the physically-challenged brought in
orders, employment - and a steady income - for both of them.  Brent even
designed a version for women who wanted to be on top!  They call that
model "The Dominatrix."

Brent is president, Troy is CEO - and the two of them are the entire
"Research and Development Department."

-30-