Part 5

by Castgimp



I was mesmerized as I watched Ben move on his crutches, following Jasper into the large deep living room. As beautiful and sexy as I had always thought Ben was I found him more beautiful and sexier now than I ever had before. It was something about the cast, and the way he moved on his crutches. As I followed him into the strange house I felt a yearning more powerful than any I had ever felt before, and my desire manifested itself as a physical ache, the force of which nearly brought me to my knees. I saw Jasper and Ben moving ahead of me, but I hung back, disoriented, dissociating myself from my body, and felt almost as if I was hovering near the ceiling, a spectral presence in an otherwise finite world. In a moment of otherworldly clarity, I tried to analyze the ache that had so violently separated me from my body, and found I could identify at least three separate components of my physical discomfort. The first was the lump in my throat that made it difficult to swallow and convinced me I was on the verge of tears. I experienced Ben's beauty as a wave of pure emotion, akin to both joy and grief, the allure of his strong masculine confidence heightened by the vulnerability of his current lameness, and this emotion lodged itself uncomfortably in the back of my throat. The second source of pain was the freight train of an erection that was barreling from my balls through my perineum toward the head of my cock. I had the distinct impression of standing near railroad tracks and experiencing the first tremors from a distant train that would soon become an overwhelming roar of wind and noise and shattering percussion as my nascent erection screamed into its inevitable rock-hard state at a hundred miles an hour. Finally, my skin itself seemed to burn with a desire to touch Ben. This fire smoldered, scorching me, and I knew it could only be doused with actual contact. My skin wanted contact with his. I wanted to cover his nakedness with mine, my skin matching his, inch for inch, our dermal touching interrupted only by the cast on his ankle.

From my floating perch near the top of the room I could see that Jasper was settling Ben on a couch that appeared to be constructed of an oversized futon that was rolled on a heavy wooden frame. He was propping Ben's ankle on a pile of pillows and handing him a glass of water. He was lighting a fire in the fireplace. He was offering Ben an afghan to cover himself with. Suddenly my mawkish throbbing collapsed into the pure fire of rage and I was abruptly reunited with my body as I felt my hands balling themselves up into fists. I was the one who should be taking care of Ben! Jasper's motives were suddenly clear to me. I had worried that he would hit on me again, in front of Ben, or allude to our mountainside fuck and compromise me in Ben's eyes. Instead it was now clear to me that he was hitting on Ben! Right in front of me! But Ben was mine! I would fight Jasper, to the death if need be, to keep Ben. From the beginning I had not trusted Jasper's motives in inviting us to stay with him. Now I knew my initial misgivings had been justified. I stormed into the living room, ready to pick a fight.

But all of the fight went out of me when Jasper turned his gentle eyes on me. "I'm so glad you guys are here," he said smiling, standing up from where he'd been kneeling next to the couch, next to Ben. "What can I do for you Mike? You look wiped out."

"I guess I am," I said, in a small soft voice, feeling foolish for my sudden rush headlong into raw emotion. I had always been ruled by my emotions. I was quick to anger, and quick to fall in love, and now, tired and stressed from the strain of the last forty-eight hours, those emotions had collided in an ugly way. Suddenly I felt completely drained, and thought that I might actually sink to my knees or pass out.

"Mike! Are you OK?" He crossed the short distance between us and grabbed my arm.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just, you know, exhausted I guess." I struggled to regain my composure.

"You looked for a minute there like you were going to pass out." I could see the concern on his face.

"Mike!" Ben was turning on the couch, trying to see what was going on. There was anxiety in his voice.

"I'm fine you guys. Really. I just...I just had a weird moment there. I'm fine."

"How about a hot shower, and some dinner, and then we'll get you into bed?" He was already leading me out of the living room, toward the bathroom.

"Actually," I replied gratefully, "that sounds wonderful."

In fairness, I have to say that Jasper turned out to be the perfect host. For the duration of our stay he was attentive to our needs in every way. Our packs with our clothes and toiletries were still in the trunk of my car, but rather than retrieving them, Jasper insisted that we use his things. His bathroom turned out to be a virtual warehouse of health and beauty aids, and he produced brand new razors and toothbrushes for both of us, as well a pile of clean towels, two bathrobes, and a sandalwood candle, which he lit and set on the bathroom counter. Then he gave me a quick tour of his bedroom, showing me where I could find clean socks and underwear and clothes, and insisting that I make myself at home, using whatever I wanted that I might find that would fit. While we were alone in the bathroom and the bedroom he never once touched me, or made me uncomfortable, or alluded to our morning fuck in the tent. For a moment I half resented that he didn't, and part of me wanted to reach out and touch him, even as I was grateful that he didn't try to turn this into something sexual. Apparently he was a Park Ranger with manners, and whatever had happened between the two of us that morning, he was willing to leave unmentioned. Standing under the welcome stream of hot water, I worried vaguely and briefly that perhaps Ben and Jasper were getting it on in the living room without me, while I was safely out of sight in the bathroom, but I let go of that too. I yielded to the simple comfort of soap and shampoo and hot water, and made up a little speech to myself about the fact that I didn't own Ben, any more than I owned Jasper, and that if they were making out on the couch while I showered, then so be it, but I knew in my heart I could only make that speech to myself with a straight face because I didn't actually believe they were putting the moves on each other while I lathered and rinsed.

My concern about what might or might not be going on in the living room gave way to a gentle erotic reverie about Ben and his broken ankle, and some of that ache I'd felt in the entranceway to Jasper's house returned to me as I gently soaped my slowly swelling cock. It was true that I didn't own Ben, but my yearning for him convinced me that I was in love with him, and knew in my heart that I had been for more than eight years now. Ben doesn't belong to me yet, I concluded, but it doesn't mean he won't. I pictured Ben as I had seen him half an hour before, carrying himself into the living room on his crutches, his left ankle in a plaster cast, and I slumped against the back tile wall of the shower as I stroked myself nearly to climax. As I drew my asshole up before shooting I could feel again the burning sensation where Jasper had fucked me, and I slid the tip of my finger up into my tight bruised hole, savoring the complex feelings of pleasure and pain. But I stopped shy of actually shooting my wad. I didn't want to cum just yet. I wasn't sure what the evening held, but something made me hold back, just in case. It never hurt to have an ejaculation in your back pocket.

I dried myself off, shaved, and brushed my teeth, all of which were imminently pleasurable sensations after three nights on the floor of a tent without any running water. I was a little reluctant to actually rummage through Jasper's clothes looking for something to wear, and opted instead for just the big white oversized cotton bathrobe and a heavy pair of woolen rag socks. I had always liked being naked, and wearing a bathrobe and nothing more was pleasant in the same way, my balls and cock free to sway beneath the folds of the fabric. It felt cozy, drawing the robe tightly around my newly washed skin, and slightly provocative. I was curious about how Jasper would react when I reappeared without having taken him up on his offer to borrow some clothes. I sashayed out of the bathroom, half-hard with the freedom of being naked under my robe, and walked toward the kitchen, where I could see Jasper bent over the stove.

The kitchen was warm, and smelled welcoming, the aroma of something spicy like chili filling the room. There was a pot-bellied wood stove in the back of the kitchen, which seemed to be kicking out a great welcome wave of heat, and a more conventional modern gas range on the side, over which Jasper stirred a stew-pot of some sort. I inhaled deeply, and could detect the sweet scent of a rising corn bread baking in the oven. Jasper seemed not at all perplexed by my decision to spend the evening in his bathrobe, and asked me instead if I wanted to help Ben bathe. He offered duct tape and a white kitchen garbage bag to cover his cast, and said he thought that Ben would probably do fine in the tub, if I would help him in and out, and if he would just hang his casted ankle over the side. I had the distinct impression that the challenges of bathing with a cast on were not new to Jasper.

Ben was dozing on the couch, half-asleep and enjoying the fire when I walked into the living room. He looked so comfortable I hated to disturb him, but he heard me approaching and turned to look at me, smiling.

"Hey," he said. "You look like you feel better."

"Yeah, much better, thanks." We looked at each other for a moment, in silence, each trying to make sense of the other I suppose. "How about you? You feel like getting cleaned up?"

"I don't know if I can manage a shower."

"How about a bath? I'll help you." There was another pause.

"OK," he replied finally.

I followed Ben into the bathroom. He sat on the closed toilet seat while I drew the bath water. Together we managed to get him undressed, and he seemed to appreciate my help. Ben gave no indication that he was ashamed of his nudity in front of me, but there also seemed to be no intimacy in our being together like this in the bathroom. His cock was completely flaccid, and I could find nothing in his eyes that acknowledged that just that morning he'd shot a long hot rope of jism into the back of my throat. Was I the only one who was keenly aware that not twelve hours ago I had been passionately fucking his face right up until the moment we'd been interrupted by Jasper? I don't know what I expected, but somehow I had held out the belief that once he and I were alone together, he would fall into my arms, confess his undying love for me, and we would live happily ever after. Now that seemed a silly pipe dream, and as I wrapped duct tape around the top of the garbage bag to keep his cast dry, I began to doubt whether my memories of what had gone on between us in the tent could be trusted. I wanted to rest my hand on his thigh, and pull his face close to me, so we could kiss, but he didn't seem to be giving me an opening for that sort of touch, and I was suddenly embarrassed by my own powerful need to be needed by Ben. There didn't seem to be any reality to my dream that somehow he and I would end up growing old together in a one-bedroom apartment in Boston, and yet, his beauty remained. Ben's nakedness was every bit as sexy to me as it had always been, even with a plastic garbage bag covering his foot and ankle. I helped Ben to the side of the tub, where he sat, and then I helped him pivot and ease his body down into the hot water. He hooked his left foot over the edge of the tub, keeping the cast above the surface of the bath water. I had a momentary desire to let my robe slip off my shoulders and climb into the tub with him, but I refrained.

"You need any help washing your hair or anything?"

"No. I think I'm OK. I wanna just soak for a little bit."

"OK. Give me a holler when you're ready to get out."

I left Ben and drifted back to the kitchen, to hang out with Jasper.

"Where's Ben?"

"He wants to soak. I'll go get him in a bit."

"You want a beer?"

"Sure. That would be great." He cooked and I sipped in silence, and then he spoke again.

"How long have you guys been together?" Now there was a question I hadn't seen coming.

"Um. We've known each other eight years. A little more, actually." That wasn't exactly an answer, but it wasn't a lie either. I was glad Ben wasn't in the room.

"Wow. That's a long time." I wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"How long have you been here in New Hampshire?"

"Well I went to college here, and then I worked in Atlanta for a long time. Now, I've been back about four years, as a Park Ranger."

"Cool. What's for dinner?"

"Vegetarian chili. Fresh cornbread." I had been right.

"Sounds great. I'm starved."

"Things are just about ready. Why don't you see if you can drag Ben out of the tub?"

Which is what I did. I got Ben dried off, and into some clothes. He wasn't interested in the other bathrobe, so I found him a pair of loose green hospital pants that pulled up easily over his cast, and a long-sleeved T-shirt that said "Atlanta Braves" on it. Ben didn't want socks or underwear. I think the idea of wearing someone else's grossed him out. Anyhow, he opted for a bare right foot. Like me beneath my robe, he was naked beneath his hospital pants, and as he swung forward on his crutches I could see the outline of his soft cock through the cotton.

We sat at a small round wooden table in the kitchen to eat. The room was agreeably warm from the wood stove and the oven. The chili and the cornbread were both delicious. Among other things, it seemed that Jasper could cook. He was clearly delighted to have us as his houseguests, and chattered away easily with us. Any awkwardness any of us had experienced earlier seemed to have melted away. The cold beer he served with the chili probably helped, but even without it, I think each of us would have felt comfortable in the company of the other two.

"You know," he said, looking at Ben, "seeing you like that with your leg in a cast reminds me of one of when I broke my leg when I was in college. It was one of the happiest times in my life."

"Happiest times?" Ben queried. He seemed unsettled by Jasper's statement.

"That probably sounds pretty weird."

"You broke you leg? How?" I could feel my cock jumping beneath the bathrobe. I wanted the details. I could just imagine Jasper with his leg in a cast.

"I was a sophomore at Dartmouth. It was Winter Carnival. That's a big blowout they have in February every year. Lots of drinking and partying and carrying on."

"Yeah, I've heard of it." I'd actually been to it once, but didn't want to interrupt his story by telling him that. Winter Carnival was legendary on the New England college party circuit. In fact I remembered little of my visit during Winter Carnival, except for an enormous hangover that lasted the better part of two days.

"The irony was I wasn't even drinking at the time. Me and my friend Zack were walking back across campus to the frat house. We were both Gamma Delt. Kind of a geeky frat. Anyhow, we'd had this off and on snow and ice and snow and ice all winter. There was this freezing rain coming down on top of the whole mess and the ground was really slick. It was late, and we were freezing, and kind of trying to hurry along. I can't remember why we were sober, but we were. Anyhow we were walking up the hill to the house when my feet just went out from under me and I was up in the air and then I was down on the ground."

"Just like me yesterday," Ben said. "My feet just went out from under me, and there wasn't even any ice."

"I knew right away my leg was busted. There was this searing pain shooting through my leg. I kept yelling at Zack not to touch me." My cock was growing rock-hard listening to Jasper's story. I was glad for the folds of the bathrobe.

"I'm still trying to figure out how this was the happiest time of your life." Ben seemed unconvinced that a broken leg could be a good thing under any circumstances.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there. Anyhow, to make a long story short, it was busted, sure enough. Both my tibia and my fibula both had broken in two, sort of halfway between my ankle and my knee. The good news was that it was a clean break and they set the bones without any surgery. Then they put me in a cast all the way up to my hip. Told me I was going to have to stay off of it for at least twelve weeks. My parents wanted me to come home, but I insisted on staying at school. That was the best decision I ever made. Before I broke my leg, I was like a nobody. After I broke my leg, everyone on campus knew who I was. In the frat, I was a celebrity. A legend developed that attributed my broken ankle to a drunken melee, which was always a badge on merit on that campus. And the upperclassmen, the juniors and seniors in the house, rather than picking on me, they all looked after me. We had like two feet of snow on the ground that winter, all winter, and I always needed help getting around. Guys would stop in and visit me, bring me food, books, beer, pot, deliver my homework for me. Some guys would come into my room just to shoot the breeze, guys I had never even really talked to before. And there was something, I don't know, but you know, physical about the whole thing. I mean I was just starting to figure out about guys and sex and all of that, for myself. But with this cast, it was like, shit somebody would come visit me up in my room and the next thing I knew we'd be jerking off together. It was weird. Nobody ever said anything about it, but it just kept happening. And this one guy, Alex, I think he fell in love with me when I broke my leg. He was always there, looking out after me, making me hot chocolate, bringing me dinner, walking across campus with me to make sure I didn't fall on my ass. One night he was sitting on the edge of my bed, and I had my leg up on a pillow, just resting it, and we were talking, and kind of rubbing our crotches the way guys do. That's how it usually started with the jerking off. First rubbing our crotches and then pulling out our dicks and staring at each other while we jerked off. But there had never been anything queer about it. It was just guys jerking off together at college."


Part 6


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