Date: Wed, 6 Oct 2010 14:31:42 -0700 From: Kris Chrandes Subject: The Cast If you like the story, support the Nifty archive. All rights are hereby donated to the archive. If you want to contact me drop a note to . I may or may not answer, but feedback is always appreciated. Other stories by me: 2009: college/2am-at-the-pool 2009: adult-friends/balcony 2008: beginnings/naked-on-film 2007: college/barefoot-in-the-stacks 2007: encounters/airport-feet 2002: young-friends/naked-boy (posted under a different name). --- I wish I could say that I don't remember the accident. I wish I remembered being fine one moment and the next waking up in the hospital. Unfortunately I remember it all. I remember the crack when the tree branch broke. I remember falling. And I remember the landing. Strangely while I was lying on the ground struggling to breathe I was noticing the blue sky through the trees and thinking what a nice summer day it was. A moment later Sam's face appeared and I could see the panic in his eyes. He was asking if I was ok. I didn't dare shake my head so I just whispered "ambulance." If anything he looked more scared. He told me to hold on, that it was going to be ok, and that he'd be back. And then he was gone. I have no idea how long he was gone. I just kept looking up at the sky and taking shallow breaths. As the adrenaline left my system I was able to relax a bit but the pain was getting worse. I seemed to be able to flex my fingers and toes so I was hopeful that I hadn't broken my back or neck. Still, I knew better than to move. I tried to focus on a couple of birds that came to rest on the branch above me. I watched them hopping around and wished I could fly so that I wouldn't have fallen. That seems childish now but at the time it seemed completely rational. I became aware of voices getting closer and heard Sam yelling, "Over here." Then I was surrounded by people, all of them asking questions and telling me I'd be all right. I don't know who all was there but I saw Sam, my mother, and two paramedics. After a minute or two the paramedics shushed everyone else and sent them away. One of the paramedics began asking me questions. My name, the date, what happened. I whispered the answers. At the same time the other paramedic was poking and prodding me. I felt my shirt removed and realized they'd cut it off, then I felt sensor pads being applied. When he was pushed on my chest I moaned. "Yep," the first paramedic said. "You broke some ribs." They put me on a stretcher board and carried me out. The less said about that jolt and every bone jarring step the better. By the time we got out of the woods to the ambulance the pain meds they'd given me had kicked in and I felt a light headed and content but still very aware of everything that was going on. When it got to the hospital that's when the true humiliation began. On TV when they show the ER everything is very proper. I found out what really happens is they cut your clothes off and leave you stretched out butt naked while they do everything you can imagine. This was a problem for me because I was very shy about my body. Probably everyone is when they're 14, but I really hated being exposed for all the world to see. I hate to admit it but I started to cry at one point. The nurse assumed it was from the pain and told me that it'd be ok and that they'd have me patched up shortly. I couldn't really move my head, so I don't know who all saw me like this, but it was at least the doctors and nurses. Eventually someone was nice enough to drape some cloth over my crotch but most of me was still exposed. A few minutes later my mother was there, and my father. Both of them held my hand and told me it was going to be ok. I was getting tired of that. Not long after they wheeled me off through the halls, transferred me again, and took some scans. Then I was paraded back through the halls to the ER room and left to wait. The pain was still there but manageable. Whatever they were pumping through the IV kept it to a dull ache. At long last the word came back. I had cracked some ribs, my collar bone, and done some damage to my neck. The treatment was simple. A cast around my upper body and a neck brace. It would be one of those that held my arms slightly out. The kind I thought that only got used in sitcoms. It was then I realized I was in for hell. I've managed to forget most of the overnight stay in the hospital. They put me in that horrid cast, checked me out, shoved a catheter up my penis (you never forget that feeling) and sent me to a bed on an upper floor. After much discussion and fretting I convinced my parents to go home for the night. Truth is I wanted to fall to pieces in some privacy and that's what I did. The nurse was sympathetic and left me alone. The next morning, my parents were back along with Sam and his mom. Sam apologized a hundred times, but I kept pointing out it was not his fault. Sure he might have suggested climbing trees that day but we'd done it many times before. In fact we'd both been out on that branch before. Apparently there'd been a lot of discussion that morning. It was summer and both my parents worked, as did Sam's mom. Sam and I were old enough and we mostly stayed home by ourselves but I wasn't going to be able to do that since I couldn't feed myself or go to the bathroom without help. Sam had agreed to become my nursemaid. This was both good and bad. If anyone was going to have to feed me and care for me I wanted it to be him. Over the next few days we settled into a pattern. My mother looked in on me overnight and made sure I ate breakfast then left for work. About when I was eating (being fed) each day Sam came over. I usually tried to hold having to go to the bathroom until he got there. It took me a while getting in and out of the bathroom. It took help getting out of bed and situated and of course someone had to pull down my pants and wipe when necessary. I think that was pretty humiliating for both of us but he did it without complaint. I hope it was not just a matter of guilt on his part. A couple weeks into it and we were sitting in my room watching a dumb action movie for about the third time. I was pretty bored of sitting there propped up in my bed. It was sunny outside and I'd rather have been out there and I'm sure Sam would have too. But instead he was in my room with me, wasting the summer. I was just sick and tired of the cast and having to let other people do things for me. Anyone who's been confined to a cast will tell you that the worst thing is itches you can't reach. At the moment I had one on the bottom of my foot and I was busy trying to scratch it with my other foot. Sam noticed and asked what was up so I told him without thinking. He said, "oh," and walked over to the bed. He lifted the sheet up exposing my bare feet and scratched the bottom of my foot. Unfortunately it tickled instead of relieving the itch and I jerked my foot back and giggled. I hate it when I giggle. Sam laughed and said sorry. He captured my foot and drew it toward him. This time he held the top of my foot with his left hand and rubbed the bottom rather than scratching it. This was much more satisfying and I relaxed. A moment later I realized my mistake. This actually felt kind of good. Even though at this point he'd touched my dick 50 times after I went to the bathroom, this was somehow more intimate. And I hadn't jerked off since before the accident. And Sam touching me was, well... He was now distractedly watching the movie and rubbing my foot. Meanwhile I was getting hard. I was wearing only boxers and I could see the sheet rising. I seemed powerless to do anything about it and before I knew it I was completely hard and the sheet was poking up in the air. Sam asked if that was better and I said yes, a bit breathily I thought, but he didn't notice. He flipped the sheets back down over my feet and backed up to the chair while watching the fight scene on TV. I was hoping that my hard-on would go down before he noticed. I couldn't reach down and tuck it or otherwise hide it with my arms stuck stupidly out to my sides. When the fight was over Sam looked at me and flashed a grin. Then he did a double take and looked back at the tent I was pitching. He smiled. I felt my face flush red but that didn't seem to do much for the tent pole. "I'm sorry," I stammered. "It's just..." "Don't worry about it," Sam said. "It happens. At least we're not in English class." "Yeah," I said, still feeling powerless and embarrassed. Sam looked over again, glancing at my erection and then looking me in the eye. You'd think the embarrassment would make it go away but it didn't. "I'm sorry..." I started again. "Oh, stop apologizing," he said. "I just realized though. You haven't been able to, you know, choke the chicken have you?" "Um, no." "That's gotta suck. You have to do it once in a while; otherwise you'll end up doing it in your sleep." Shit. I hadn't thought about that but he was right. That means that sometime soon I was going to have a wet dream and my mother would find out. If not right away, at least when she did laundry. What was I going to do about that? "Yeah, you're right," I said. "I'm just gonna have to wait another month." "I don't think I could go that long," Sam said. This wasn't the first time we'd ever discussed the topic, being boys and all. But I never thought I'd hear such a matter-of-fact admission that he did it too. He paused for a long time, during which my erection softened a little, but had not yet gone away. "I could, you know, just as part of taking care of you..." he trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I could relieve the pressure." I was stunned in silence. Half humiliated, have aroused. "I don't want you to have to do that," I said. "I mean, you already have to do everything else for me. That seems like one thing... I mean..." "I don't mind," he said. He approached me and then slowly folded the sheet down so it was just covering my lower legs. Then he grabbed the waistband of my boxers and pulled them up and over my erection. I lifted my butt as much as I could and he pulled the boxers down a little. He was staring intently at my cock standing rigidly at attention. "Is it ok?" he asked. "Yes," I said. "I mean if you still want, um, still willing. You don't have to." "I know." he said. Sam grabbed my cock in his hand and gave it a light squeeze. I nearly passed out it felt so good. He began stroking gently and almost immediately a drop of precum came out. He touched it with one finger and rubbed it up and down my cock. It felt so incredibly good. I looked at his face. He was very intent, studying me almost clinically. But still, the feeling was incredible. No one had ever touched me like this before. Very soon I felt that feeling of inevitability. It was different with him doing it. When I jacked off myself I was always trying to get it done quickly before I got caught. Sam just kept stroking at the same pace and I felt the orgasm slowly building. I almost didn't say anything before I exploded but at the last minute I croaked out that I was going to shoot. Sam didn't have time to grab anything so he just put his other hand over the tip and deflected the stream back on to my stomach. I came a lot. It had been a while. He gave my cock a final squeeze then let go. I lay there panting, which kind of hurt my ribs. He grinned at me and said, "Be right back." I heard him go into the bathroom in the hallway and wash up. Then he came back with a dry washcloth and began cleaning me up. I shivered when he stroked my softening but still very sensitive dick. He went back to the bathroom and I heard him rinsing out the washcloth. Then finally he came back and pulled my shorts up and covered me back up with the sheet. It looked like there was a bigger than usual bulge in his pants. Did he like that I wondered? "I..." I began, not knowing really what to say. Was, 'thanks' appropriate? "You're welcome," he said, grinning. We put on another movie and wasted away the rest of the day through dinner and more bathroom trips. That night I lay awake thinking about it. Enjoying it again in my mind. I felt a new erection growing, happy that no one could see it right now, but very sorry that I couldn't reach down and touch it myself. Eventually I fell asleep. The next day no mention was made of what happened and I managed the bathroom and cleanup routine without any undue reaction. Sam seemed to pay no special attention, but by then he'd seen my junk about as much as I had. Which was kind of weird when you thought about it. I hadn't ever seen him naked. About a week later, with several more weeks of cast to go, the pressure started to build up again and I was waking with very intense erections. Part of that was just waking up with a piss hard-on, but part of it was feeling that I needed to get off again. Before the accident I did it at least once a day. I wondered how to go about this. Should I ask him? Should I try to get hard again when he was around? Or should I just tough it out? The last one seemed like the right thing, but the truth is that I liked it. I liked Sam. I wanted him to touch me again. The problem took care of itself. I was standing naked except for the cast and brace in my room with the door closed (even though no one else was home) while Sam was wiping me down with a wet washcloth. Kind of like a standing spongebath. He said this was as much for him as me because I was beginning to stink. We'd done this about once a week since all this started. The first time we tried to do it in the bathroom but there wasn't really enough room for him to move around me, so we'd take to standing in my bedroom. I'd gotten a semi once before doing this but he'd pretended to ignore it. This time there was no pretending once I sprung a full erection. Sam twanged it with one finger and said, "Happy to see me, eh?" I laughed nervously. "Can't help it. Mind of its own." "It's been a while again hasn't it?" he asked. And without saying anything else he began stroking me. It felt every bit as good as the first time but I tried to think about other stuff to make myself last. It didn't work. Either to add a little extra stimulation or just to brace himself, Sam had put his other hand on my inner thigh and that drove me over the edge. "I'm gonna..." This time he was ready and caught almost all of the cum with the washcloth. When I was done I was kind of wobbly and almost fell down. Sam guided me to the bed and helped me sit. "I guess standing was not a good idea," he said. "Next time we won't do that." All I could think was, 'Next time? Hell yes.' When he stood up this time I was sure that he was sporting a bulge. If he saw me looking, he didn't say anything. As it turns out I didn't have to wait another week. Three days later Sam was draped over the chair in my room while I was propped in the bed as usual. It was hot so I was laying on top of the covers in just my boxers and the damned cast. Sam was wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts and barefoot. He looked damned cute there but what had really caught my eye was that he seemed to be absentmindedly stroking himself through his shorts. He appeared to be not quite hard. This had the predictable effect on me and I started to tent my boxers. I felt like I should look away. To at least pretend that my hard-on was not related to watching Sam stroke himself. But it was too late. Sam looked over and saw me looking at him. He didn't seem surprised. He watched me for a minute while still stroking himself. My eyes were fixed on his crotch despite my best efforts. He got up and walked over to the end of the bed with an intent look and making no attempt to hide the obvious tent in his thin shorts. "Can we stop pretending now?" he asked. "What do you mean?" "We both like it," he said. Which was still not quite clear. Sam put his hand lightly on my ankle and looked at me. "I want to do more with you," he said. "Is that ok?" I couldn't seem to speak so I just nodded (as much as I could). Sam tugged at my boxers and I lifted my butt to let him pull them down. He pulled them completely off. Then he crawled up on the bed running one hand up my leg. I expected him to grab me and stroke again, but he leaned close to my twitching erection. Because of the cast I couldn't really look down and see him, but I could feel his breath on my erection. Then I felt an intensely warm sensation. He was sucking me off. I said something I think, but I don't think it was intelligible. I squirmed in place but Sam pushed down on my hips and held me there while he sucked harder. I squirmed some more before he pulled his mouth off. My hard-on felt cold and I could feel it twitching in the air. Sam sat up so he could see me. "Do you like it?" he asked. "Yes. I mean... Yeah," I said. Still not making much sense. "I want you to come in my mouth," he said. "Really?" "Yes." Sam's head disappeared and he engulfed me again. He bobbed his head up and down most of my erection, using his hand to grab around the base of my dick and alternately squeeze my nuts. I felt that wonderful moment of inevitability and then my hips bucked into the air and I shot into his mouth. He groaned but kept his mouth firmly on my dick and squeezed with his lips. The room went dark and I don't remember much for a moment or two until I was laying there panting, my ribs hurting slightly. I realized Sam was standing up at the end of the bed again looking concerned. "I'm ok," I said. "That was amazing." He smiled. After a few minutes I continued, "but you know you really don't..." "Oh shut up," he said. "I have been wanting to do that for a couple years. I just never knew if you wanted it too." "Yes," I said. "I do. And, I want to do it to you too." "I don't see that working right now," Sam said with a grin. "Well my fingers are kind of useless, but if I sit on the floor and you kind of stand in front of me..." "No way," he said. "I can just see you getting hurt and how the hell would I explain that to your mother?" "I don't know. Can I at least, see you?" I asked. Sam grinned. He pulled his shirt up and over his head and dropped it on the floor, then pulled the waistband of his trunks out and made to pull them down. Then paused. "Really?" he asked, "You want to see?" "God, yes." Sam dropped his shorts to his feet and I was looking at his slim, naked form. His dick was standing up at a steep angle. He had neat dark pubes. It looked like he might trim them. I finally took my eyes off his crotch and looked him in the face again. I had an idea. "Move closer," I said. He seemed puzzled but did as I asked. I stretched out my right foot and planted my toes in his pubes next to his dick and rubbed lightly. He realized what I was planning and stepped all the way up to the edge of the bed. Sam bent his knees a bit and then I had my feet on either side of his hard-on and started awkwardly stroking him. He grabbed both feet with his hands and pressed them close together then began humping the space between my arches. It has hard for me to look down but I could just see the head of his dick poking through on each stroke. Sam had his head back and his eyes closed. With one big thrust Sam pushed forward. The soles of my feet were firmly planted on his hips and I felt him pulse. And I felt the hot cum splattering on my legs. I was not surprised to realize I was hard again. Later, after Sam had cleaned us up and we'd gotten dressed he told me how great that felt. He said he'd been going home and whacking off every night he'd been so frustrated. "When I get this damned thing off," I said. "I'm gonna suck you inside out." "Deal."