Interlude

by Wilson Devereaux

I didn't get to the motel until about 6:30 that evening after a 650-mile drive. Needless to say I was tired, but that didn't last long.

I had just parked and getting out of my car to head for the office, when I saw a man in a wheelchair rolling away from his van. His back was to me, so at first I didn't know whether he was a paraplegic or an amp, but almost immediately he turned and headed for the office, and then I saw he was a double leg amp, with rather short stumps.

I was closer to the office and got to the outer door before he did, so I held it open for him.

"Hi!" I said.

"Hi!" he answered. And rolled on to the next inner door. I hurried forward and opened it for him. "Thanks," he said giving me a big smile.

Of course you can guess what was happening to me. Both my balls were ringing like it was a four-alarm fire and my fire hose was filling up ready to put the blaze out!

When we got inside, he said, "You were here ahead of me, you go first."

I hesitated, even though I knew he was right. "No, I mean it," he insisted. "Après vous, Alfonse." And he made a gesture indicating I was to precede him.

I made a similar gesture back at him and said, "Aber nein, mein gute Freund. Bitte schön."

He laughed. "What the hell was that?"

I laughed. "You speak French so I speak German. I said `but no, my good friend, please!'" And I made the gesture again.

He looked at the rather sour-faced, tired young woman at the counter. "Take him first."

"OK Wheely, if that's what you want." she said in a nasal voice. "OK, mister, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like a non-smoking single, please."

"Fresh out of rooms. We got just one left and it's for Wheely there. It's a handicapped room. Tough luck, buster. There's another motel just down the street."

There was dead silence for a moment while I thought about the terrible loss I was faced with, not seeing him again.

"Wait a minute," Wheely said. "How many beds are in that room? And is it a non-smoker?"

"Yeah, it's a non-smoker and there are two beds. Got any ideas?"

Wheely looked at me and said, "I'm game if you are! And I don't snore!"

I looked at that guy and if he knew what was going on in my crotch and what I was thinking, he would have fled back to his van and got the hell out of there.

"I'll do it. Fifty-fifty!"

"Fifty-fifty does it! Sign us up, miss," he said with a grin.

It was then that I realized what a tough spot I'd put myself in. How to hide what shows? It's going to be a hard night, I heard myself saying to myself.

He gave his name as Cameron Weston and I gave her my name, Meredith Johnson. It was after I mentioned my name that I did a sort of mental double take. "Cameron Weston." That name seemed to sound familiar, but at that moment I couldn't make a connection. We each paid cash for half the room, and she gave us the key.

As Wheely took the key, I piped up. "Have you got another key? We may not be on the same schedule."

"Only one key to a room, mister. This ain't the Ritz."

"Oh," I said. "For a moment there I thought maybe it was. Well, Wheely, we'll have to fight for possession of the key."

We turned and I did my door-opening bit again, but the look on his face really tickled me. He was stifling a laugh so hard that he was shaking. I opened the outer door and he rolled through and really put on the steam, leaving me behind by a number of yards, his back shaking and the sound of his laughter floating back to me.

At that point I started laughing as I went to my car and he went to his van. I got my bag and went back to him.

"Key, please," I said, still laughing.

With a wicked snort he gave it to me, and I went to the room which was right were his van was parked, opened the door, deposited my suitcase and went back to him. He had pulled a suitcase out of the van and put it on his lap. I reached down and picked it up.

"Next time you reach into my lap without warning, you may get something you're not expecting," he said quietly and very seriously.

I went into the room wondering what the hell he meant by that. Would he give me an uppercut? Bite my hand? Since I didn't know how I was supposed to take it, I took it in the sexiest way I could think of, with the consequence that my crotch was again ringing bells.

Wheely rolled in through the open door, reached behind him and slammed it shut and started laughing again.

"I've been called a lot of things, but never `Wheely!'" he said.

"I apologize for picking it up so fast. Are you Cameron or Mr. Weston?"

"Which would you prefer, Mr. Johnson?"

By this time I knew, of course, that my roommate had a sense of humor and that made him all the more attractive. Not that he needed much help! And while I'm on the subject, let me tell you he was exceptionally good looking. In his forties, probably, with a strong, smooth-shaven face, twinkling eyes, and a brilliant smile. The fact that his body ended in two short stumps added enormously to his handsomeness. His hair was dark, tinged with gray here and there.

As for me, I'm pretty average. In my forties, five-ten-and-a-half, good body shape, not stocky, not thick. Handsome? Well, I look good in a bathing suit--good legs--I'm getting bald, what's left of my hair is dark, I'm smooth-shaven, I have green eyes, and I've had a thing about amps all my life, but have never known an amp who was interested in what I was interested in.

I answered him. "Cameron OK?"

"OK with me. Some people have tried calling me Cam, but I ask them not to. Are you Meredith?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. The name Meredith foils every attempt to shorten it. Johnson is so common, people don't mess with it." I reached out my hand to him. We shook. "I am very grateful to you for suggesting this."

"I'm grateful to you for accepting. I know I'm not the most attractive roommate one might wish for, but . . .anyway it's nice to have company."

In my mind echoed his words: `...not the most attractive roommate one might wish for...' Good grief! If only he knew what a gorgeous hunk he is! Should I tell him? Good God NO!

"Now for a schedule or whatever," I started. "I have nothing on tonight except dinner and getting ready for tomorrow's sequence of meetings. I'm going to a conference and have meetings from 9 to 4. I should be through by 5 to come back here and give my brain a shower. That's my future."

Cameron looked amused. "I have nothing on for tonight except to eat dinner and get better acquainted with you. Then tomorrow I have to go to a conference that starts at 9 and will continue until the last meeting at 4. I should be finished by 5, and I mean finished and ready to return here and flop."

All the while Cameron was saying this he focused heavily on me, but I didn't really hear what he said because I was so caught up by his saying `get better acquainted with you'. It gave me all sorts of hope and I was fighting it like crazy because I didn't want the disappointment that can follow such a buildup.

Then the rest of what he said sank in and I looked at him amazed. "Are you going to the Realtors of America Conference?"

"That's the one!" Cameron smirked with pleasure.

My brain was running fast. "Cameron Weston. Cameron Weston! That's where I've seen the name before, you're talking at some time in the afternoon on "Does Real Estate Have a Future?"

"Two P.M."

"You're the Cameron Weston! And here I am rooming with you!"

"Look at the money you're saving. Half price room with half a man."

"I don't believe it, I simply don't believe it. My God, man! You're making real estate history! All that proposed legislation, all that. . .it's. . .it's. . .I'm dumbfounded."

Cameron laughed. "You should be dumbfounded more often, it makes you look funny. Like a little boy caught in the jam pot."

I think I blushed. Was he coming on to me? Could I dare dream such a thing? At this point he had become the most desirable man I'd ever met. He was so beautiful to look at that I could hardly stand it.

"Well," Cameron said, "I've got to pee. If you decide to run away, leave me the key."

He rolled off to the bathroom and I sat on a bed, the one farther from the bathroom. Run away? Here I am with an honest-to-God amp who looks like a million dollars, who has charm, wit. . . I grabbed the ice bucket, found the key to the room in my pocket and went out to get ice.

When I got back with the ice, Cameron was on the bed nearest the bathroom, his chair at the foot of the bed. "Oh! So you went after ice! I was beginning to worry that you really had run out on me."

"No," I said, "I travel with a bottle and decided that before dinner I wanted a drink. Can I make you one?" I said.

"What are you drinking?"

"Vodka over the rocks. That OK?"

"Sure. I got a bartender for a roommate! It's my lucky day," Cameron said.

"Want me to add some water to it?" I asked, as I unwrapped a plastic glass from it's plastic wrap.

"No thanks,," he answered, "the ice should take care of that."

When I had made our drinks, I said, "Cheers!" I was sitting in the chair at the desk. We each lifted our plastic drinking vessels and sipped some of the alcohol-diluted water. It tasted OK but it needed vermouth or something. Cameron made a face after his sip.

"Really raw, isn't it?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "How do alcoholics stand it?"

"Maybe they're masochists. The more pain the better," I suggested.

"Like the guys I've read about who can only have sex if it's painful."

"Yeah, the guys who like to be whipped by a semi-nude woman in high heels," I said, thinking not of women in high heels but men in leather..

"Good God!" Cameron said. "Let's change the subject to something pleasant. Like dinner. Shall we call a pizza place and have them deliver something?"

"Pizza?" I said with revulsion. "There's a perfectly good restaurant across the street. We don't even have to drive."

"That means we can have two drinks!" Cameron said. "Oh no! Wait a minute. Could I be arrested for drunken wheelchair driving?"

"Not with me schwearing up and down that we wush both shtone shober!"

My imitation of a drunk was lousy, but we enjoyed the joke anyway. It was such a treat to sit there looking at him sitting on the bed. I could spend the rest of my life looking at him. The thought actually went through my head.

"How do you feel about tomorrow," I asked. "Sort of nervous? I would be. I would be petrified."

"Yeah, I'm sort of antsy. Mostly it's about how they'll look at me, although I've arranged to be seated behind a desk. People are funny. I suppose it's animal instinct, the same kind that made people put deformed babies out on the mountain side to die. May I ask something rather personal?" Cameron looked serious.

"Go ahead. I won't guarantee an answer, but give it a try," I said with a grin.

"You're one of the very very rare ones I've ever met that didn't seem to notice my missing legs. You don't seem to give a damn. I find that the most wonderful thing that's happened to me in a long long while. I know this sounds odd, but unless you've been in my situation you can't really understand it."

I honestly didn't know how to answer him. If I told him the truth at this moment, he would be offended and see it wrong.

"Cameron, I've never been in your situation obviously, but I think I can understand what you're talking about. I'll be honest with you. I have never before been with a double amputee. You're the first. And you look so real, so totally here and with it, that--well, you're just a fellow human being." I wanted to add that he was also exceptionally handsome and that his being an amputee only enhanced his good looks.

Cameron looked pleased. "You've no idea what a lift you give me."

"Is it really that bad?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he said. "Sometimes it's really depressing. But not always."

We had finished our small drinks. "Another?" I asked, lifting my glass.

"No, let's get a real martini when we get to the restaurant. I hope they have a bar!" Cameron said.

"Well, then, let's scoot."

He vaulted into his chair and I got up, made sure I had the key and we left for our short walk to the restaurant.

It didn't take ten minutes to get there and follow the hostess to a table. She removed a chair to make room for the wheelchair and gave us menus with "Enjoy your dinner."

We ordered drinks while we tried to decide on dinner. I won't try to recap the conversation throughout dinner because it was strictly business. I was super-impressed by Cameron's creative approach to such an old business and by his earth-shaking ideas for modernizing and streamlining it.

When we got back to the room, it was almost nine-thirty.

"I'm for a shower, how about you?" I said.

"Yeah, I could use one," Cameron said and vaulted out of his chair over to the bed. It's a beautiful movement and he does it with great agility and grace. It really got to me again, for the umpteenth time that day, and my balls were doing their firehouse clamor again and the fire hose was unrolling.

Cameron unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, exposing massive shoulders and a pair of arms to match. Apparently he'd been walking on his arms for a long time to reach that degree of development. It made matters much worse for me, because I was undressing and I was in no shape to be seen in the nude. Well, I was, but only under very specific circumstances.

I was thinking fast. If I go into the bathroom to undress. he'll wonder why and if I stand there stark naked with my bone sticking out, he'll call the cops. Well, I said to myself, let it happen. He can look and I'll simply tell him why. If he doesn't like it, he'll just have to put up with it. I can move out tomorrow.

I was down to my jockey shorts and when I pulled them down, I noted that he was looking in my direction and had undressed down to his shorts. I took my jockeys off and stood up straight, facing him.

He looked at me rather long before he said, without any kind of feeling, "I've never seen anything like this before."

I kept my mouth shut while he continued to look. "You really are hirsute!" he said.

"Yeah, I've got a lot of hair all over, not only on my chest. All over," I said with a slight grin.

"You sure have. You have a beautiful body. A truly beautiful body. Beautiful legs. You know something? I've never before seen a naked man with an erection just standing still. Do you always have an erection when you're about to take a shower?"

"No," I said. "I have an erection because. . ." I stopped. Should I or shouldn't I? He didn't seem offended by my condition, simply commented on never having seen it before. I made a decision. "I have an erection because you're so attractive." I paused. He didn't say a word. "You're so handsome, you turn me on. I've been wanting to tell you this from the first moment I saw you and held the door open for you. I got an erection then, too. I get an erection every time I look at you. Half the time during dinner, I sat there with this thing fighting to get out of my shorts. I can't apologize for being what I am. Yes, I'm gay and yes, I think you're super. I know you're not interested, and believe me I'll never bring up the matter again. And now that I've said too much. I'll go get under a cold shower."

And I walked past him, my hard cock sticking out in front of me, bent upward slightly, sashaying back and forth as I walked. He never took his eyes off me. I closed the bathroom door behind me.

I got in the shower and was tempted to jack off, but I didn't. I figured it'd spoil my chance for a wet dream. In about ten minutes I was back out, dry and with my cock dangling semi-soft.

I looked over at the bed, and was really startled by what I saw. He was lying flat on his back, naked, and had a bone on. I stopped and looked at his beautiful stumps and his thick, somewhat short, uncut cock lying flat up on his belly, with two small balls squeezed in on either side of the root of that thick pole. He was looking at me with a slight grin, watching my cock rise to the bait.

"The shower's all yours," I said. "Can I do anything for you?:" That wasn't an idle question. The fact he was naked and hard gave me the hint I was hoping for. Maybe he might, just might, be interested in me.

"Yeah, you could do a lot for me, but not in the shower." He raised himself up, his cock still hugging his belly. "I'll not be long." He arm-walked to the end of the bed and let himself down to the floor and swung himself into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.

I was up hard as rock at that point and went to my bed, pulled the covers down and sat down to wait for his return. I knew what I wanted to do, and apparently he did too. I was thinking about how wrong I'd been about him, and that he had been coming on to me from the beginning. The elation I felt is almost indescribable. I fought for patience in waiting for his return.

I heard the shower turn off. I heard him toweling himself. And then he appeared, walking on his hefty arms. With ease he vaulted up onto the bed,

pulled down the covers, jumped over them and got in bed on the far side, leaving the space empty next to him.

I took that as an invitation and laid down with him. He was still hard and so was I. With my right hand I reached out and touched his face very gently. Leaning down carefully I brushed my lips against his. His left arm answered that invitation and came up, went around my shoulders, and pulled me down for a long, long tongue-fucking kiss that made us both so hot we were twisting and squirming in a blaze of desire.

Our mouths still together, my right hand went gently down his body, feeling his hard cock before finding his right stump which I gently stroked. Then I reached over to the left stump and gently stroked it, getting on the inside of the thigh. They didn't feel the same, the right being firmer than the left.

Breaking away from his mouth, I slid down on the bed so I could lie there and make love to his two stumps. I licked and kissed his right one while gently stroking his left one. I moved to the left one, kissing and licking it and stroking it. He was making soft sounds. My left hand found his thick hard rod and I played with it very gently while continuing to kiss and lick his left stump.

I had never done this before, as I had never had sex with an amp, but I had wanted to do it for years, and now I knew why. It made me feel so loving, so all-embracing, so. . . I had never before felt anything like it.

I continued stroking and kissing everything, including his balls and the shaft of his cock and suddenly it happened: his cock erupted and shot hot cream all over his chest and belly, with a long thick shred of it hanging off his chin. I held the head of his uncut cock in my hand and, making a twisting motion, caused the foreskin to rub the glans and he came with a second spasm of ejaculation.

I felt his cock slowly go soft while still in my hand, and I looked up at his handsome face. His eyes were closed and he had a beatific smile on his lips. It was the happiest moment in my life.

I went to the bathroom, dampened a washcloth, and went back to him and cleaned him off. One trip was not enough, so I went back, rinsed the cloth and repeated the washup.

He was watching me with a wide smile on his face, but didn't say a word until I came back and lay down with him again.

"I've never known anything like that ever," he said quietly. "How did you know I would be sensitive? I didn't know it until you started. I still don't understand how my stumps--" he glanced down at them and raised them up, the sight of which made my cock return to its usual rock-like state "I had no idea. You've done this before. My God what a sensation!!"

"I've never done it before," I said. "I've read about it, but I've never had sex with an amputee before, although I've spent my entire life wishing for it. And now I don't want to be with anyone else but you." I reached out and touched his stumps. "Those are the most beautiful things I've ever seen." I looked at his face. "You're the most wonderful person I've ever known. Some time I'll tell you about me and my thing about amps. I don't understand it. But to find an amp who is also the person I've always wanted to meet is almost more than I could wish for."

Cameron sat up, but I didn't. I just lay there on my left side, my hard cock sticking out, its head on the sheet.

Cameron shook his head in a pensive way. "I can't believe that I could have lived all these years and not heard about the sensitivity of stumps. I've been an amputee since I was twenty. Twenty-three years! And I've never had a lover in all this time. There have been one or two men I liked well enough, but they didn't like me--I'm not whole, I'm only half a man--so nothing came of it but frustration." He looked at me without smiling.

Again he shook his head very slightly, very slowly. "And today. When I asked if there were two beds, it was because I wanted to get to know you. You see, when you held the door open for me and said 'hi,' you looked at me as if I were whole. My not having legs didn't seem to bother you the way it does everyone else. I couldn't let you go. And now I can't believe the terrific thing that's happened. Are you real?"

I rolled over on my back which put my cock up in the air. I put my hands behind my head. Cameron looked at my cock, reached out and took it in his right hand and gently played with it. I was on the absolute edge, but I didn't say anything, it felt so good, what he was doing. I look at his lovely stumps and I put my left hand on the nearest one--the right stump--and just touching it, combined with his hand, brought me to the explosion I was waiting for. He quickly put his hand over my cockhead and let the cum shoot into the palm and then dribble back down my cock into my curly cockhair. When I had finished spurting my juice, he wrapped his hand around my still-hard cock and gently massaged it, sending stabs of nerve pain through me and, with a yip, I sat bolt upright.

I then threw my arms around him and we both fell back onto the bed and I was on top of him, kissing him, pushing my still hard cock in between his stumps and I could feel him getting harder and harder and I continued to fuck his stumps until he was rock hard and moaning.

I flattened my belly against his with his cock between us and I moved my belly up and down, my own cum lubricating the movement, until I had jacked him off. My two hands held his two wrists high above his head and he squirmed and tossed, but I rode him. Suddenly he raised both his stumps and hoisted me into the air and with a flip he had turned me onto my side on the bed and he mounted me.

His wrists still in my clutch, he flattened his belly against mine, his stumps on my thighs and he started fuck motions, rubbing my cum-wet cock into my belly until he produced the same result in me. It was the feel of his stumps against my upper legs that brought me off. My God! What a gorgeous way to have sex!

He lay on top of me motionless, both of us breathing hard. Gradually I released his wrists, but he didn't budge from his superior position. He put his head on my hairy chest and licked the hair and then my right tit. He chewed on that tit and got it erected and tongued it, and I lay there blessing him and me and all mankind and thanking God for making sex such a transcendental pleasure.

That was the first night of the rest of our lives.

The conference was a big success, Cameron's speech was brilliant, he went back to his home in Pennsylvania and I went back to mine in Oklahoma. But we talk almost every day and once a month we meet in Chicago at a hotel and drink vodka out of reall glasses and spend the weekend in bed stump-sucking and belly fucking. It seems to be our favorite way of doing it.

In between times, I dream his stumps are rubbing my thighs and I can almost feel his weight and I come copiously all over the bed. Some day we'll each retire from business and we'll start living together full time, instead of one weekend a month.

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