What Ever It Takes
by
D. Glenn Price
I was the hot shot, young captain in the Army's Fifth Division stationed in Fort Bliss, Texas. The guy on a mission. I was on a Army career path that I was sure was going to lead me to becoming a general before I was forty years old. I was ambitious, ruthless and determined to make my mark. Soon everyone would know the name of Jason C. Culter.
I had been driven to succeed all my life. The youngest of five siblings (three brothers, two sisters) I always had to do even better than they did. I had to be the best and, thanks to good genetics, supportive coaching from my family and an iron will, generally I succeeded. I was the captain and quarterback of my championship football team, a track and field star and an outstanding baseball player. I was also valedictorian of my class of Kingston High School in upstate New York. I had my pick of colleges and universities and there was even some interest in some pro baseball team signing me and bringing me up through the minor leagues.
I turned them all down. I wanted to go to West Point and make a career of the United States Army. My parents were horrified, being reformed hippies, but did not stand in my way. Mom and Dad, God love 'em, had been defined by Woodstock and antiwar protests in the 1960's and to have their youngest son embrace the very institution that they fought against so bitterly in their youth was hard to take.
Given my outstanding background, receiving my appointment to West Point was relatively easy. I graduated third in my class at West Point.
My career was then right where I wanted it to be. I made the rank of captain in only two years, an unheard of accomplishment in peace time. I was assigned to lead a company of the elete Rapid Response Team, a division of the most highly trained, mobile units in the Army. We were trained to be ready at the drop of a hat to pick up our gear, load it onto
the big C15's and fight in any area of the world where we were needed. This was a plumb assignment, proving the Army recognized my accomplishments and my potential.
In August of my twenty fifth year and my third year of active Army duty, we were assigned to training maneuvers in a joint exercise with the Marines at Camp Pendelton, California. We were to follow and support a Armored Tank Division in a mock invasion of an unnamed Middle Eastern country which everyone assumed was Iraq. The war of words was heating up and there was talk of an invasion. I was hoping for an invasion as there would be ample opportunities to prove myself in battle and receive promotions. Sounds a little self serving, but that was the way I was thinking in those days.
In full gear, my companies were following the tank group through rough, brush covered terrain. I had given orders that all of the infantry were to follow the tanks but keep at least ten meters behind as they could turn or back up without warning and someone following too closely could easily become road kill. I was leading B Company, the Company with the best record and the most gung ho attitude in my command. I knew they would make me look good.
The tanks were moving at a walking pace, about ten miles per hour, so the infantry could keep up. Those tanks were awesome machines. They could move at fifty miles per hour, turn on a dime and possessed enormous firepower. Twice I had to remind my men not to follow too closely. They were a little over eager to engage the "enemy." and "win " the war games.
When the accident happened, I was walking about three meters to the left of one of the lead tanks. It took a hill that was a little to steep for it and the treads could not get enough traction on its shale covered slopes. Suddenly it backed down to reve up its engine for another try at the hill. Two of my men were in the way. I yelled at them and sprinted over to push them out of the way and succeeded with one of them, but I and another were hit and knocked down. The kid I was trying to save, a PFC. by the name of Philip Murphy, made it, he was bruised and cut up a little and he broke his arm but his injuries, while painful, were not permanent. My injuries were a different matter entirely. The track caught me just below my hips, severing my right leg and crushing my left beyond repair.
I was on my back when the tank rolled over me. I raised myself on my elbows to look at what happened to me and I saw my severed and crushed right leg lying a meter from me and my left flattened into a bloody pancake of shattered bone and shredded flesh. I knew from that moment that my legs were gone and my career in the Army was gone too. There was little blood (the weight of the tank and sealed shut the arteries in my legs) and initially little pain. I was fully conscious and asking about Murphy. I was trying to give orders and rapidly going into shock. I finally succumbed to the pain and the morphine that the medic administered and lost consciousness.
When I regained full consciousness, a week had passed and I was in the intensive care ward of Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC and a hero for saving my two men. I was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, the highest peace time metal that the Army awards. It did not help much, my legs were still missing at the groin. I had no legs or even stumps left. My body just ended abruptly at the hips. Somehow my dick and balls survived. If I had lost those too, it would have been a whole lot tougher.
The next six months were the toughest in my life. I knew my Army career was over. I would be discharged with a full disability pension, the thanks of the Nation, a metal or two and no legs. That, coupled with the actual physical pain, made my disability very hard to bear. I had to lay flat on my back while my lower trunk healed. I developed bed sores; I fought off pneumonia and a serious kidney infection; I endured twenty three operations on my trunk to close and cover the wounds where my legs had been. I became addicted to pain killers.
By the time I had recovered physically from the accident with full closure of the injuries and no infections and had overcome my addiction to pain killers, I weighed about sixty pounds. I was literally skin and bones. My parents had a hard time recognizing me. They had given a healthy, handsome son to the Army an they got back a legless, emaciated skeleton.
Before the accident, I had a very muscular, extremely cut body of which I was very proud.
I exercised with weights on a daily basis. I could for run miles in my full Army pack. I could, from a standing position, do a horizontal kick jump a full seven feet off the ground. One hundred push-ups barely winded me. I was quick, strong and deadly and when I was discharged, I could barely lift my legless body from my bed to the wheel chair.
Artificial legs were out of the question. There were no stumps on which to attach them.
So my only option became the wheel chair. I had to fight the Army to get the type of chair I wanted, a low slung, light weight, extremely maneuverable model. I was not interested in the clunky, army issue models that were twenty years behind the times.
Under the careful ministrations of my mother and with continued physical therapy at the local vet hospital , I gained weight, confidence and poise in my chair. I became a terror, tooling around the house at great speed. Dad had remodeled the house for my chair, putting in ramps at the front and back doors, widening the doors to the bath rooms and building a new bath for me on the first floor of their one hundred and fifty year old farm house.
I set up a gym in the garage and began to exercise regularly. I wanted to get my body back and with a combination of my mother's good, home cooked food and exercise, I quickly gained sixty pounds. My skinny frame filled out and my muscular body returned, at least my upper body. My arms, shoulders and chest filled out, became hard and cut. My stomach regained the washboard musculature. I found that without legs, my stomach muscles were constantly used for balance. The same thing for my ass, so it too became rounded and firm.
I had always been good looking and the good looks returned too. I have a face with fine bones, a sensuous mouth, even white teeth, large hazel eyes and abundant light brown hair that I let grow out until it brushed my shoulders. It was the first time in my life I ever let my hair grow. Before the accident, it was strictly military buzz cuts for me.
As I regained the weight I had lost in the hospital, I found myself being aroused at the sight of my legless body. I thought that I was really twisted. I remember being fascinated by a guy named Nathan West, who had lost his right arm in a farm accident. It was off just below the shoulder. Normally he used a prosthetic arm, but in gym, he took it off and wore only his tee shirt. The stump just barely poked out of the sleeve. We got to be good friends and we even jacked off together once, but I never had real sex with another guy before. At West Point, I didn't think about sex too much. There was no room or time for a sex life. I was pretty much celibate during that period. And during my tour of active duty, I was totally committed to my career. There was no room for a life outside of the Army. I was, in fact, married to the Army.
So at twenty six, I had sex with a woman exactly six times, all in high school and with a man (sort of) once, also in high school. I went out to a couple of bars in Kingston and New Paltz but never connected. I was too nervous and self conscious. My mother tried to set me up with the daughters of some of her friends and some of my old high school girl friends, but I was finding that I just wasn't interested in women and mostly they were uninterested in me. So I stopped trying with women.
I found myself more and more attracted to men, but finding one who liked a very high, double above the knee amputee, even a handsome, muscular one, was tough. And also I simply could not bring myself to face the fact that I was gay. I refused to deal with it, so I just sat in my room night after night watching old movies and dreaming about some great looking guy who would rescue from this pointless life I was leading. I was deluding myself.
Of course one of the reasons I like show off my muscular, legless body was in the hopes of attracting some guy, perhaps not consciously but the wish was clearly there. I would often go out in the summer wearing just my jeans with the legs cut off and sewed up so that my legless lower body was covered but but on display in the tight fitting jeans. My basket was on display as well as there were no legs left to hide it Everybody knew me in Kingston, the tragic kid who lost his legs and his future because of an accident in the Army.
I didn't work. I used my pension of about four thousand dollars a month and I lived free at my parents house. I bought myself a nice car, a bright red Ford Explorer, and had it equipped with hand controls and a vanity tag that announced my condition 'Legless'. I would spend hours just driving around aimlessly searching for something. I didn't quite know what but, when I was driving my 4 X 4, I felt in control and complete. I could go anywhere at any time I wished. With my chair folded up and in the back seat, I was free to roam.
It was on one of those aimless jaunts that I met Trevor. It was an early autumn day, sunny, crisp and clear, fourteen days after my twenty seventh birthday. The trees were just being touched with the colors of fall and I was in high spirits. In such high spirits that I wasn't watching the gas gauge and ran out of gas. I was really pissed, how could I do such a stupid thing?
As I was sitting fuming in my car, I noticed a pickup drive by and then stop and go into reverse. The pickup pulled along side my car and a blond, very good looking guy poked his head out the window, "Hey Jason. You OK?"
"Like a jurk, I ran out of gas. You wouldn't happen to have a couple of gallons you could spare, do you? I replied. "Do I know you?" The young man had gotten out of his pickup and walked over to me. He was wearing black 501's, a light green shirt and a bright yellow windbreaker. He filled out those jeans very well. A great ass, long legs, tall with blond hair and green eyes. He had an easy smile. As he got closer, I noticed that his shirt was unbuttoned down to below his pecs and you could see a hint of the beautifully defined muscles of his chest. My dick started to get hard.
"You probably don't remember me. I was at Kingston High four grades below you. I always wanted to be like you and have you for a friend. You didn't pay much attention to me, a skinny, pimple faced freshman. My name is Trevor Eakins." he said as he extended his hand.
And suddenly I did remember him. Always trying to tag along with his older brother, a teammate on the football squad and a good friend. Usually in the way and usually not allowed to tag along. When he got to tag along, I remember his not saying much, just looking at me.
"I do remember you. Mark's kid brother. Always in the way, a little pest." I said with a grin, extending my hand. His handshake was firm, his hand callused from hard work. " I see you filled out a bit. Hitting the iron pretty hard, huh?" He had filled out a lot! I estimated him to be six feet tall and at least 190 lbs., all solid muscle. His waist was tiny (no more that 28 in) when measured against his chest which was at least 45 or 46 inches.
"I work out at the gym at SUNY, New Paltz almost every day. I am on the soccer team and I also run track, 440 yard and mile relay mostly and oh, I throw the javelin." he finished with a note of pride in his voice. He put his hand inside his shirt, giving me a better look at the beautiful body. He was looking at me with what I took to be a clear invitation in his eyes.
"I am sorry about your accident. I was really bummed when I heard about it. I've seen you around town a few times, but never managed to come over and introduce myself and talk." he continued in a conversational tone, but with a stressed edge to it. Or was I reading into his actions something that wasn't there? Even though I was twenty seven years old, I was at a complete loss to determine if he was coming onto me or not.
I guess I was still very unsure of myself sexually. But I was definitely getting aroused.
"I have a two gallon tank of gas in the back of my pickup. Never know when you might need it. I'll go and get it and fill your tank, enough to get to town and a filling station anyway." Trevor said as he turned away to go back to his puck-up. I had another nice view of his beautiful, rounded ass.
"Thanks Trevor. Maybe I should take some advice from the little kid brother and get a spare tank for emergencies too." I said as I watched him walk over to the back of his pickup, lift the gas can with easy grace and walk over to my tank.
"Pop the lid." he requested, "so I can fill the tank."
He repeated his request, this time a little louder. I came out of my daydream about long, muscular legs, beautiful asses and hard pecs with a start and popped the tank lid. "Sorry I was daydreaming." I said with an embarrassed laugh.
Trevor walked back to me, a mischievous grin on his face. "You keep daydreaming like that and you will wind up on top of a mountain in the dead of winter with no gas. And then what would you do" he asked.
As an answer, I pulled out my cell phone and waved it in his face. "See I am not a complete idiot, maybe just a quarter idiot."
Trevor laughed out loud. It was a deep throated, musical laugh, the laugh of a man.
"So come on over to the house for supper. We can put some steaks on the on the grill and pop a few beers." Trevor said, leaning his forearms on the driver side window of my car. His face was inches from mine and his eyes bored deeply into mine. I could smell his body odor and his desire. Without thinking about the possible consequences, I reached over, put my hand behind his neck and drew him down for a kiss. He did not resist but met my mouth with his, exploring with his tongue, lost in the deep ecstasy of the moment. Suddenly he pulled back and said "We can continue this at the house." It was the first time I ever kissed a man with passion.
"What about your parents. Where are they? I asked.
"Florida, they retired and moved to a place in Palm Beach a year ago. I have the house to myself at least until next spring when the new owners will take over. I will have graduated by then and hopefully will have an apartment in New York. That's where I am moving when I graduate. I already have a job with an investment banking house and I am going for my graduate degree in international finance at Columbia nights."
Impressed I said "Got your future all planned out, huh"
"Well most of it. The lover part isn't quite worked out yet but there are some real possibilities as of this afternoon. Trevor said with complete seriousness, eyes locked onto mine.
My heart leaped at his words. He was so fuckin' hot and obviously very smart and he knew exactly what he wanted do with his life. A lot like me two years ago but nothing like me now. I was drifting with no goals, no ambition, no future and suddenly this handsome, blond god came into my life and gave me hope.
"Supper sounds great. You lead and I will follow. If you think the idiot can keep up with you.". I finished with a laugh.
Trevor smiled and said nothing. He just piled into his truck and headed off down the road with a squeal of tires.
After a few miles he put on his signal (to keep from piling into his rear end no doubt) and turned into a driveway that climbed up a hill. At the top of the hill was a large, old mansion house in the Greek Revival style with six Ionic columns, a pediment, window surrounds, the works. It was an impressive place with extensive grounds and formal gardens. I had no idea Mark and Trevor lived in such a house. I had never been invited to Mark's house when we were in high school together. I opened the door to the Explorer, set my chair down on the drive and hopped into it, shutting the door behind me.
"Quite a place you have here. I had no idea that the Eakins lived in a fuckin' mansion. What does your daddy do, rob banks for a living?" I asked in a somewhat awed voice.
"No, he just owns a few and some insurance companies and some hotels and some office buildings and some apartment buildings. Well, you get the picture." Trevor finished. "I don't want to talk about my Dad and the money. It doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot to me." There was a note of sadness and maybe a little anger in Trevor's voice as he answered.
There were three steps up to the porch and Trevor pulled me up to the porch and rolled me toward the front door. "Come on in." he said, "The servants have all gone down to Palm Beach so we are here alone." The house was empty of furniture and echoed eerily.
"Great house, huh, I will show you around later. I don't live here anymore. I stay in the guest house. Much more manageable for a single guy. Come on I will show you"
We continued through the hall of the house, past the spiral stair and the doorways to the empty rooms and out the back door to a brick paved patio and then onto a gravel path that lead to a grove of trees and a small cottage. It had four rooms, a kitchen, a living room/dining room and two bedrooms, each with a private bath and dressing room. It was comfortably furnished and a little messy. Trevor was obviously not a meticulous house keeper. "Don't mind the mess. The maid is due tomorrow and I don't have much time for housework." Trevor explained.
I looked up at Trevor and said in my best Army command voice, "Take off your clothes. I want you now, the steaks can wait."
Trevor just grinned and complied. First the shirt came off, revealing a beautifully muscled torso and arms, hairless, tanned and without flaw. He ran his hands sensuously over his hard pecs, pinching the nipples and moving down over his washboard stomach to the waist band of his jeans. With a jerk of his left hand, he popped the buttons of the jeans and slid them down to his knees. His legs were also tanned , lean and well muscled, the legs of an athlete. Legs just like those that used to be attached to my hips. I was staring at the jock strap covered bulge between those muscled thighs. It began to expand as Trevor's cock began to harden. Straining the cloth of the strap, it finally worked its way out and stood straight out at full attention. His cock, like the rest of him, was beautiful, about seven inches and fat. I wanted to suck it immediately even though I had never sucked a cock in my life..
Trevor sat down and removed his work boots and socks and then with a clean, graceful movement, removed his jock strap and jeans. He was incredibly beautiful. There was no tan line and no hair on his body except a little at the crotch. He went into a flex pose, left leg extended, right bent at the knee, arms raised to display his 'baseball' biceps. He was totally unselfconscious of his nudity and, seemingly, of his incredible beauty.
With a laugh he asked, "Well, what do you think? A little different from the skinny kid with pimples that was such a pest to you and my brother in high school, huh."
"Awesome!" was all I could manage, almost overcome by this man's beauty.
I was awestruck by this man's beauty. My own cock was attempting to bust through my pants. My hand went down to my jeans. Trevor walked up to me knelt down before me and said " Let me." His hands went up to my chest to feel the muscles beneath. He slowly unbuttoned the denim work shirt I was wearing, pulled it out of my jeans and eased it off my shoulders. Then he kissed me again a deep, hard, man to man kiss. He rocked back on his heels and just looked at me, hands exploring my torso and arms. I took his right hand in mine and kissed it gently and then began to suck on the fingers one by one. I had seen this in a porno movie once.
Trevor's hand went down to my waist band and unzipped my jeans. I raised my legless torso off the chair and he eased the jeans and jock strap off. I was now nude, my cock fully erect and standing up from my crotch. Except for the doctors and therapists at the hospital, this was the first time another man had seen my legless body. I was a little self conscious and nervous, but, at the same time, completely truned on.
My pecs are covered with fine hair that flows down in a band to my crotch. My cock is about eight inches long and rather slender. I looked down at my own legless body. There was just my torso and then just the scars where my legs had been amputated. I put my right hand down at my crotch and began to explore the scars where my legs had been. I had a raging hard-on and precum was leaking from the tip of my dick. Treavor reached down and grasped my hard dick, put his mouth to it and gently licked the precum.
"Let's go to the bedroom." Trevor said in a quite voice. He put his arms under mine and picked me up with no visible effort and carried me to his bedroom and set me on his bed. I sat there supporting myself with my arms and then I leaned back on my elbows, giving Trevor a good look at my body and at the scars where my legs had been.
He reached down with his left hand and tentatively touched them. When I did not discourage the exploration, he knelt again and began to nibble on them and trace the outlines with his tongue and finger tips. And then it hit me. He was interested, excited and turned on by the fact that I was legless.
"So you really like the fact that I am legless." I asserted.
Trevor came up for air and replied, "Of course, I love your legless body. I have been excited by men who have lost limbs for as long as I can remember. I had an affair with Nat West, you know the guy who lost an arm. He talked about you a lot. He was in love with you in high school, but you never really responded."
"You mean Nat is gay?" I asked incredulously.
"Absolutely. He moved to Chicago about a year ago to be with a guy he met on the Internet. They corresponded for a year or so, sent each other pictures. So Nat was sure this was the guy for him." He e-mailed me about a week ago and announced that they were going to have commitment ceremony right before Christmas, rings, vows, reception, cake, the works. I am going to Chicago for it if I can find the time." Trevor explained. "And you're coming with me."
"Pretty fuckin' sure of yourself, ain't ya?" I said in mock sarcasm. Secretly I was thrilled that this beautiful man found me attractive and wanted to spend time with me.
"You bet." he said and took my cock in his hand and expertly began to suck. The sensations were so intense that I came immediately. He didn't stop until I was milked dry. I stayed hard. He had me lift my torso up so he could began to play with my asshole, pulling it apart with his fingers, rimming with his hot tongue and finally plunging a finger up as far as he could and then two, twirling them around inside my ass.
There was a little pain but mainly there was pleasure from his expert ministrations to my asshole. "I am going to fuck you." Trevor said. This was not a question, it was a statement of fact.
"I don't know, I've never been fucked before. In fact I have never made it with a guy before" I replied, the concern in my voice obvious.
That stopped Trevor cold. "Never been with a man before? You mean you're a virgin?
"Yeah, I guess I am. So be careful, go slow." I said.
"Don't worry baby, I will be very careful and I know you will love it." Trevor said as he began to apply some lube to my ass and some more to his cock. "You want a rubber?, I'm clean, only been with three men in my whole life. You are the forth."
I sighed with contentment, "No I trust you." and I did completely and utterly.
I felt Trevor's rigid cock began to poke at my asshole. He entered slowly. The pain was intense but then I relaxed and it went away to be replaced by pure pleasure. He eased in some more. "Push it in all the way" I commanded. "I can take it." He did with one explosive movement of his hips. I screamed with the mingled pain and pleasure and grabbed his hips to force his cock into me as far as it would go. He began to stroke in and out, in and out. His strokes became harder, faster and more intense. I moved with him. We were both bathed is sweat, our breath coming in harsh gasps. Then Trevor came; his hot cum filling my man hole like a stream of molten lava. I came too, sending rope after pearly rope across my chest and face. I had never had a climax like that. I felt drained, relaxed, fulfilled. I also realized that I loved getting fucked.
"So how was your first time?" Trevor asked after he had regained his breath.
"Beautiful, I think I will be the bottom in this relationship." I replied. "OK with you?"
"Yeah, but I need to sit on you from time to time, I like a cock up my ass on occasion too" Trevor said with a triumphant grin. "You hungry. I will fire up the grill and get out the steaks."
I was ravenous. We cooked the steaks, baked some potatoes, made some salad and ate until we could hold no more, washing it all down with more than a few brews. We ate before the fire, still naked with a blanket around our shoulders. I fell asleep in Trevor's arms that night after another bout of love making in front of the fire. This time Trevor instructed me in the fine art of sucking another man's cock.
I awoke in Trevor's bed the next morning, badly needing to pee but not wanted to get out of this warm bed. I snuggled closer to the hard body in bed with me and listened to Trevor's even breathing, but finally I had to slip out of bed and scoot to the bathroom.
I was sitting on the can when Trevor noiselessly slipped into the bathroom and stood in the doorway watching me piss. The morning light fell across his magnificent, naked body, gilding it so the he seemed to glow in the golden light. He penis was fully erected.
"Hi handsome," he said, "Sleep well?"
I looked up and said, "Very well, thanks. I really liked waking up with a hunk sleeping next to me. I think I could get used to it"
"You better because you are going to have to do it for the next 40 or 50 years." Trevor said as he bent down to give me a morning kiss..
And I knew he wasn't kidding.