Part 7 by Castgimp

The way I see it, this story could end any number of different ways. I almost always have trouble ending these stories. Maybe you've already noticed. Starting them is no problem. I get this idea in my head and it just takes off. It's like I can see the guy, whoever he is, with his leg in a cast, and that makes me hard, and the more I think about him and picture him, the harder I get. So I start writing it down. Sometimes the whole story comes to me all at once. Sometimes, and more usually, it kind of evolves once I start writing. As I write, I feel like I kind of get to know the guy or the guys in the story. Part of why it's hard for me to end them is I hate to say good-bye. I want these guys with their legs in casts to hang around for a while, so I can enjoy their company. And the endings always seem artificial somehow. You can't really wrap lives up in a neat little package and say "the end." People's lives, and their stories, take unforeseen twists and turns, and they end abruptly, and suddenly, in unexpected ways. Sadly, now more than ever, we know that to be true. So anyhow, these are my ideas for the ending of this story. I'm sure that if you were writing this story, you might end it differently. One friend of mine wrote and told me that he wanted to see it end with a beach sex scene, with these two guys rolling around naked in the sand next to the Pacific Ocean, knocking bottom with their casts on, four crutches lying there next to the blanket. I could have written it that way, but I didn't. I actually haven't written any of it, as you'll see in a minute. This is more like an outline of what I would have written if I had actually written an ending for this story. So you'll have to kind of envision it as I tell you about it. Use your imagination to fill in the details I've left out. And if you can think of a better ending, write it down and send it to me and I'll post it here. The more endings the better. Episode 1: The Hotel Room I imagine Mark and Scott spending the next two weeks humping their brains out in their hotel room. Try to picture it: two hot, handsome, masculine men, both with casts on their legs, both in love with each other, both horny as hell. I think they'd spend almost all of their time naked, because they really have no reason to get dressed. And let's face it. They like being naked. They'd stay in the hotel because they have nowhere else to go, and getting around isn't all that easy. While Scott's broken ankle and his fiber short leg cast allow him to be fairly mobile, Mark's more recently broken leg and his plaster long leg cast require that he lay low for a while, keeping off his leg as much as possible. They're also a little bit self-conscious about going out together, two guys with their legs in casts. Besides, they're happy to be together, just the two of them, and truly, they have no reason to go out. They have a mini-bar that gets restocked every day, and three meals a day via room service is just a phone call away. The hotel is picking up all of Mark's expenses until he can travel again because they are worried about getting sued by a guy who fell in their bathtub and broke his leg. And if they did decide to go out, they'd have to get dressed, and we've already established that at this point in time they'd rather be naked. As it is, they just throw on those white cotton terrycloth bathrobes the hotel provides whenever they have to answer the door to let the housekeeper or the room service guys in and out, and then they get naked again as soon as the door is shut. In the company of each other, their world is pretty complete. They enjoy the daily rituals of their artificial domestic life together. Every morning Scott helps Mark bathe by sitting him down on the closed lid of the toilet seat and helping him wash with a wet cloth. Then Scott actually manages a shower, with his cast wrapped in plastic. Mark stands next to the tub, leaning on his crutches, and Scott leans on him with one hand to steady himself while he washes. They are both a little skittish about falling in the tub. The hotel has great digital cable, so they watch some TV, and some pay per view movies, and sometimes they put on their bathrobes sit on the balcony watching the ocean. But mostly they fuck. It is their honeymoon after all. And just when they think they can't possibly fuck anymore, they look each other in the eye, and there is something about their casts and their nakedness that makes them rock-hard again, and before they know it they're pawing each other and groping and grinding and sucking again, and despite the fact that both of their dicks are nearly raw at this point, pretty soon they are screaming and shooting and hollering and slamming their bodies against each other again. For both of them, it is a fantasy come true. For the first time in their lives they have unlimited naked time with another hot guy with his leg in a cast. Who knew life could be so good? They both find themselves surprised by the small things that turn them on. Sometimes it is simply the sound of their two casts knocking together as one of them rolls over in bed. Sometimes it is the feel of the other's cast against a lingering finger, or the intimacy of touching that place where the other's cast ends and his skin begins. Sometimes it is just the naked honesty of two men lying in bed together, two men who aren't afraid to admit that they need each other. And it's not just the constant horniness and the great sex that feels so good. There is also a deep and peaceful contentment that has established itself within them. They find themselves uncharacteristically vulnerable, sometimes even on the verge of tears, and even that seems right. Sometimes when they are done making love they find that the sweat and heavy breathing gives way to soft weeping, and they cradle each other, and they are gentle and tender and quiet as they lie there and softly stroke each other's warm bellies. Other times, when they've been grinding and humping and slamming their bodies together, and they finally eke out one more sharp short orgasm, they collapse back down into the wet sheets giggling together like schoolboys. Above all else, despite their broken bones, they are supremely happy. But all good things eventually must come to an end. They can't live like this in a hotel room together forever. Scott's medical leave is coming to an end, and he will have to return to military service. And Mark's leg will eventually heal, and he will have to return to his job in Philadelphia. This thought lurks always in the back of their minds, though they try to push it as far as possible from their consciousness. After two weeks of nearly soul-numbing happiness, Mark is scheduled to return to his orthopedic surgeon for a follow-up visit. During that visit, they remove the plaster cast that has been immobilizing his leg. After another series of x-rays, the surgeon pronounces him on the mend. This time they immobilize his leg in a full-length fiber cast, one that is lighter and will make him more mobile. This cast, like the first one, goes from his forefoot all the way up to the top of his thigh. The doctor tells him that he is now free to travel and move around as much as he is able. It is still too soon to put weight on the leg, but that will come, the doctor tells him, in four more weeks. So, regretfully, Mark concludes that he must travel home, because there really is no justification for staying on here in California in this hotel room. They talk about what to do. There is no good solution. Scott can't exactly go back east with Mark, and Mark can't exactly stay on the West Coast with Scott. They talk about visiting each other, and calling, and emailing, but Mark has a sick feeling in his stomach that once they say good-bye, that will be the end of it. He is pretty sure that once Scott is back on his feet and back on the base and back in uniform, he will forget about Mark, or will force himself to forget about him. He doesn't doubt Scott's love for him, but he doubts Scott's strength to withstand the pressures he faces in his job as a Marine. So their farewell is difficult, and sad. Both men are stoic and silent in the face of the inevitable ending of this relatively short period of pure happiness. Despite their honesty with each other during the last two weeks, both of them are now reluctant to say the things that are on their hearts, because they are two strong masculine men, and they have been long accustomed to protecting themselves from hurt and loss. On their last night together they both drink too much, making a sizable dent in the mini-bar, and then they fuck like crazy. They fuck harder and with more desperation than they ever have before, and their two fiberglass casts smack together as Scott raises himself up on his knees and then plunges his ass down hard on Mark's rigid cock again and again and again. In the morning they are both skating around the edges of a serious hangover, and they feel hollow inside. Over their last room-service breakfast together they are quiet. Afterwards, standing at the door of the hotel room, each leaning on his own pair of crutches, they kiss gently, almost chastely, before they leave the hotel in separate taxis, Mark bound for the airport, and Scott back to the base. Episode 2: The Airplane So I see Mark sitting on the airplane. He has managed to secure an entire row for himself on this transcontinental flight from San Diego to Philadelphia. His doctor had to write a letter documenting the medical necessity of keeping his leg elevated during the flight, and he's had to pay extra, but he has the whole row now to himself, and with his back against the window, he settles himself into the seat, propping his casted leg up on the two seats next to him. He has been allowed to board the plane early, because he did indeed need extra time. His row is near the bulkhead door, and the flight attendant has stowed his crutches for him in the small closet nearby. As he sits in the plane, waiting for the other passengers to board, he is sad, and resigned. For the first time, his broken leg and his cast feel like a burden. He knows that returning to work will not be easy, and that he will miss Scott's company desperately. He briefly considers getting off the plane, and calling Scott, and telling him that he is staying here in California, forever, to be near him, but he does not. He knows in his heart that he would have lost Scott to the Marines eventually no matter what, and that staying in California without Scott would be worse than being home in Philadelphia without him. Mark is startled when a male flight attendant kneels down in the aisle to speak with him. The flight attendant explains that there is someone in the gate area claiming to be Mark's travel companion. The man at the gate apparently does not have a ticket, and there are no seats available to buy, except these two here. The flight attendant seems uncertain how to proceed. Ordinarily, he explains, this man would simply be turned away, but under the circumstances, and here he pauses and looks gently and knowingly at Mark, we thought we should ask you if you know this guy. His name, the flight attendant announces gravely, is Sergeant Scott Norris. I won't bore you with the details of how they worked it out, but ten minutes later the airplane is pulling away from the gate and Mark is resting the heel of his casted foot on Scott's lap. I'm sure I don't have to point out the lovely symmetry in this; Mark flew out to California with Scott's cast in his lap, and he flies home with his cast in Scott's lap. And it is inevitable that we finish with the cast/airplane sex scene. Everything since the beginning has been building toward this final, enduring image. The lights are low, and the movie is playing on the screen in the front of the cabin. Mark faces Scott, with both his legs up, and Scott faces Mark, with his legs up. Their legs are intertwined on the airplane seat between them, and each rests his cast gently on the crotch of his partner. They've pulled a couple of those blue flimsy airplane blankets over their laps, for warmth, and for privacy. Who starts it? It's hard to say. Maybe it is Mark, gently playing with Scott's toes under the blanket as they stick out from the end of the cast sitting in his lap. Perhaps it is Scott who is aroused by the weight and heft of Mark's cast resting on his lap. The point is, pretty soon they are both hard. And then they're pulling those casts harder into their laps, grinding their crotches against those hard fiber heels. Under the cover of the darkened cabin and those blue blankets they're humping each other's casts, a double cast-fuck, hot and horny and in-love with each other. Thrusting their hips up into the casts they cum with big wet sticky ropes of white jism, trying desperately to suppress their grunts and groans as they shoot. They make a mess, but don't care, and fall asleep, each holding tightly onto the other's casted foot. And they live happily ever after. Why not? It's my story, and I say they do. Never mind that Scott is AWOL and likely to be court-martialed before it is all over. These boys will not be denied their true love. And when the casts eventually come off, is there still a relationship they can sustain? There is. Their love transcends the cast-fetish that first threw them together on that first transcontinental flight so many weeks ago. I like happy endings, and I am a sappy romantic. I like my casts hard and rigid, the same way I like my men, and I want all of my boys to live happily ever after. Coda But that's it. All I can do for you right now is sketch out the rest of this story that I have carried in my head for so long. There are lots of details that I have imagined that I have left out. Things they said to each other on the airplane, and things they did with their bodies and hearts while they were together in that hotel room. I'm feeling a bit weary and drained at the moment, and I think I need to take a short break from Plaster Prose, so I'm going to take a little cast fiction sabbatical. I need a little time to re-energize before I'm ready to go forward with more cast stories. Which is not to say that a man with a cast on his leg doesn't still make me hard. Seeing some guy with his ankle wrapped in plaster or fiber will make me hard as long as I live. That's just the way I'm wired. And someday, maybe even someday soon, I'll write more cast stories. But right now, I need to take a small break from this project. There are some other things I need to attend to in my life. My hope is that some of you will be willing to carry the ball for a while. It would be my greatest pleasure to see some of you write something new for PlasterProse. It's actually not that hard to do. The secret is just writing down what actually makes you hard. Write down your fantasies. Tell us about the things you think about when you're pulling your pud alone at night. Write about med casts you've seen and how they've made you feel. Tell us about your own casting adventures. Tell us about your own casting fantasies. Make up your perfect cast fantasy, your Fantasy Island version of the perfect broken leg love affair. Write about nasty hot grunting cast sex. Tell us a gentle love story of two guys in love. Talk to us about making love to your boyfriend while you secretly fantasize about humping the captain of the college football team with a cast on his leg. Shoot, if you don't like the way I ended this story, write a new ending for it! Tell us anything at all, but please do take a stab at writing about this great and unique fetish interest that we all share. Send me your stories or essays or journal entries, and I'll be happy to post them here for everyone to read. Don't be bashful. Sit down at the keyboard and close your eyes and picture that perfect man in that perfect cast and start rubbing your hard cock through your blue jeans and then put your fingers on the keyboard and see what comes out. And whatever you write, end it this way: they lived happily ever after. I hope we all do. Peace to you my friends. Castgimp **

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