Falling Down
By
LaloGS
By
LaloGS
When I was a young man of 19 to 23, I was deeply into running. I ran everywhere I went. It kept me fit and trim, and my six foot frame was muscular and tight, and remarkably limber. I wasn’t a particularly fast runner, more the long distance plug rather than the speedy type. Although, I never entered any races, I thought that some day I’d be good enough to win one or two before I got too old to try. I never imagined my plans would go so awry.
I was running one after noon shortly after my 23rd birthday, when I fell down. I was in a park not far from my house, after a brief rain, when I hit a patch of grass which harbored a slick of mud. My feet went in opposite directions, and I found myself after some gyrations in the air, flat on my back with my left leg folded under me at a strange angle, and trying to regain my breath after it had been knocked out of me.
When the pain hit, I must have passed out, because when I next knew what was happening to me, I was in an ambulance screaming toward our local hospital. The paramedic bent over me, looked unhappy. He tore open a gauze packet, and poured some stinging liquid onto my leg that set me clinching my teeth together along with every muscle in my body. I must have made some sort of sound to let him know it hurt, because he looked me in the eyes, and laid his hand on my forehead to comfort me.
“Compound fracture. The Femur has pushed through the muscles of you leg, and is exposed. It looks like you’ll have to carry a steel pin in it the rest of your life.” I just looked at him numb from the pain, not totally understanding what he was talking about. “It’s gonna make it tough for you to run any more, and damn near impossible to get through security at an airport.” He chuckled slightly, and poured more of the stinging liquid on the wound.
I was passed out again, when they admitted me to the hospital, and they must have given me drugs, because when I next was aware of my surroundings, I was in a hospital bed, with my left leg in a cast, and it was hoisted at a low angle by ropes and pulleys. A nurse was writing something on a clipboard at the foot of the bed, and I could see another man in a bed across the room. There were two other beds in the room as well, but they were empty. The first sensation I had was that my left instep itched like the devil, and I knew I couldn’t reach it.
“What happened?” The nurse looked up at me as I spoke with some difficulty.
“Apparently you took a bad fall running in the park. Your left leg is broken, and the emergency team had to put it back together with pins and screws. Your running days are over, and from now on, you’ll have a load of trouble getting on a plane anywhere.” A memory crossed my mind swiftly, and I thought someone else had already said that to me.
“Who should I thank for bringing me to the hospital?”
“I don’t know who called it in, maybe the paramedic team has that information. I’ll check to see which one it was and get it for you. OK?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The doctor released me later that afternoon, and as I was being wheeled out to where I could get a taxi, a guy in a paramedic uniform stepped up to me, and asked how I was doing. I vaguely thought he was familiar, but I didn’t know him. “I guess I’ll be in a cast for a few weeks, and other than my foot itching like mad already, I guess I’m going to recover according to the doc.”
“Sorry to hear it man. My partner and I were the ones that brought you in this morning.” I looked at him and smiled.
“I guess I owe you a big thanks.”
“Nah. It’s all part of the job. I hope you get better quick.”
“Me too. Listen, My name is John. . .”
“Patrick.” He shook my offered hand.
“Listen Patrick, do you know who found me? I was pretty far back on the trails in the park when I fell.”
“Not really.” He flipped through some papers on his clip board, until he found the one he was looking for. “Says the call was anonymous. Sorry man, can’t help you there.”
“Well thanks anyway.” He touched his cap with a couple of fingers and walked away. The orderly got me to the taxi stand out front and helped me into a cab and then passed my new crutches into me. As the cab was pulling out of the driveway we had to wait until the ambulance with the guy I’d just talked to driving pulled out into traffic ahead of us.
I spent several days getting used to my new confinement. I guess I had to consider myself lucky that it wasn’t worse than it was. I was itching under the cast worse than ever, but I was home, and my insurance covered the whole thing, and I could still work at my job from home via my computer. My boss was also a runner, and understood what had happened.
By Sunday morning, four days later, I had gotten pretty good with my crutches, but still couldn’t drive. My larder was empty, so I decided I’d call a cab, to take me to the market to pick up some food. I figured Sunday morning the place wouldn’t be as busy as it usually was. I asked the cab driver to get me a buggy and I laid my crutches in it, and started a slow waddle down the isles picking up what I needed. I was standing at the meat display trying to make my mind up over chicken or steak, when I got tapped on the shoulder.
“Hey, John isn’t it?” I looked up into the grinning face of Patrick, the paramedic who had saved me.
“Yeah. Patrick, what are you doing here?”
“Same as you it looks like. How’s the leg?”
“Itches like a son of a bitch.” He laughed. We talked for a few minutes, and finally he asked me how I was getting my groceries back home.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Maybe I can bribe the cab driver with a bigger tip to help me by taking the bags into the house.”
“Ah, no way man. I’ll help you. Where do you live anyway?” I told him. “Shit, that’s just around the corner from my place. It’ll be my pleasure. “I’ve been in town six months since I took the job with the ambulance company, and I haven’t met any friends yet.”
“Great. That would be a big help. And just so you know, I’m new here myself, a little longer than you, but still no real friends to speak of. Company would be great.”
“Done then.” We finished our shopping pushing our buggies next to each other, and Patrick finally started pulling mine along while I struggled with my crutches. After checking out, he loaded our food into his car’s trunk, and we drove to his place first, where I waited in the car while he put his food away. At my place, he made three trips but finally had my food in the kitchen, and put the meat eggs and milk away while I made a pot of coffee.
“So,” we were sitting at the table over cups. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m an accountant. I work for a firm downtown that handles several large business accounts in the city. I’m working from home until this comes off.” I knocked on my cast. He nodded.
“What do you do for fun? I mean I don’t mean to pry, but. . .”
“Oh, you can ask what ever you want. I feel like I owe you something for what you did for me.”
“Like I said, it’s my job.”
“Thanks anyway. But to your question. I like a little bar a couple of blocks over. Pool table, darts and sometimes a little companionship and conversation.”
“You mean Walter’s place?” He named my favorite hangout, Walter’s, a neighborhood gay bar, where if I was lucky, I occasionally hooked up with another guy for sex. “You’re gay?”
“Caught me red handed.” He laughed.
“Me too. The reason I took the apartment I did was because I liked Walter’s place. But my job keeps me far too busy or tired to get over there much. I guess that’s why we haven’t met before.”
“Well, I don’t get to Walter’s every night either. Maybe two or three times a month. I guess we just never selected the same nights.”
“Hey,” he grinned at me. “You know a little skinny guy with flaming red hair calls himself Dooly?”
“Dooly, yeah. Not my type, but he hits on everybody. You like him?”
“Not really, but I have to admit, I took him home with me once, and gave him a good fuck, which is what he wanted. Now I can’t get rid of him. He’s not my type either, but I was horny and he was available.”
“I’ve turned him down so many times I’ve lost count, but he still tries. Funny little shit.” We finished our coffees, and he stood up to leave. “You don’t have to go Patrick.”
“I don’t?”
“No. Speaking of types, I’ve got to tell you, you ring all of my bells.” I looked into his eyes, and he took a deep breath.
“I think you might ring mine too. I’ve been thinking about you ever since we picked you up and took you to the emergency room. While you were out from the pain, and the injection I gave you, I took a peek.” He blushed a little.
“Oh really?” I grinned. “And just what did you think?
“I was impressed. What is it hard? I mean soft lie it was it was impressive, I’ve been trying to imagine it hard since I saw it.”
“You want to find out?”
“It would be my pleasure. Where do you want to show me?” My dick was already half hard, and I could see a substantial bulge growing in his pants.
“What’s wrong with right here. This damn cast it too hard to work around, so it’s all up to you.” He stepped between my legs, and gently lifted my left leg to one side, and I moved my right leg to give him room to maneuver. He dropped down between my spread legs, and laid his warm palm across my growing cock. I leaned back in my chair, and started unbuckling my belt. He rubbed my growing shaft, and waited until I lowered my zipper. I couldn’t get my underwear over my cast, and even my wide leg jeans were a struggle, so when I peeled back my fly, my stiff cock rose up to meet his face.
He leaned in and gently held my 8 inches against his cheek, for a minute, slowly stroking me with his gentle hands. He began to lick my shaft lightly, and I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensations of his tongue and lips were working on me. After several minutes of this slow gentle activity, he opened his mouth, and began a slow suck of my knob, which caused me to raise up off my chair which he used to drag my jeans off my hips and down to my knees. I took his head in my hands, and rubbed his soft dark hair. He looked up at me, his blue eyes smiling his pleasure as my cock sunk through his rosy lips.
“Oh man, you are good at this. I love a good blow job by a guy who loves his work.” He continued his manipulations, occasionally letting my stiffness out for a breather, while he went to work on my balls. I was in ecstasy with what he was doing for me, and since I hadn’t cum since a couple of weeks, I could feel things were coming to a head. I moaned that I was going to let go, and he was instantly back on my knob, and sucking like a mad man moaning and breathing hard through his flaring nostrils. I emptied my nuts in seven incredible squirts while he swallowed them all.
I was groaning and moaning with the release, and sat there my head lolling side to side, while I pulled on his hair. He finally lifted his head, and let my softening cock fall free of his wonderful mouth. He leaned back on his heels, with a big grin on his face. I was sweating and limp as a rag from his good work. I leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, and he shared the taste of my cum with me along with his incredible tongue.
We talked for another hour, and finished the pot of coffee. Late in the afternoon, he said he was hungry, and wondered if I’d let him treat to some hamburgers and beers. I agreed, and we climbed into his car, and drove to Walter’s. Over the food and drinks, he told me he really enjoyed the morning, and wouldn’t mind a repeat of it if it suited me. I told him I was looking forward to it.
On our third beer, and what was now hours of talk learning about each other, Dooly showed up. We both watched him as he made his rounds of the other people in the bar and finally got to us. “Hey guys. How’s it hangin’?”
“Dooly, go away. We’re having a conversation, and neither one of wants to do you. OK?” Patrick was gentil but firm with him.
“Hey man, I’m just horny.”
“No harm in asking I guess,” I lifted my beer bottle in a salute and smiled at Dooly.
“My point exactly. Thanks anyway.” He backed off, and was soon in a conversation with a guy that looked like he was his twin.
“Well, I guess we ought to call it a day. I’ve got to do my laundry, or I won’t have anything to wear tomorrow.”
Patrick paid the bill while I struggled up onto my crutches, and then he drove me home.
“I had a great time Patrick. I’ll be glad to return the favor anytime you’d care to give me a chance.”
“How about now. I’m so fucking horny I could make it with a goat.” I grinned, and pushed the door to my place wider. He brushed passed me, and entered my living room.
“Strip off you clothes Patrick, I want to get a good look at your body, and I like to play the whole orchestra while blowing the flute.” He laughed, and started pulling his clothes off. By the time he was naked, I could see he was sporting a substantial dick that while still half hard, was going to be a big mouthful when I got down on it. Since I couldn’t bend my left knee, I sat down on my couch, and Patrick stood on the cushions a foot on either side of my hips, and fed me his cock. I unzipped my pants, and opened my belt, and started jacking myself as he started fucking my face.
This activity went on for several minutes, with him holding my head gripped tightly in his palms while he thrust his seven and a half inch cock into my throat ad deep as it would go. In this he was not so gentle, but I didn’t care, I loved every stroke he gave me. I let him fuck my mouth and throat until he began to let out with a low moan that was growing in intensity. I could feel his balls pulling up, and then with a grunt, he started flooding my mouth with his spunk. I swallowed, and just as he was finishing his last squirts of cum, my cock went off, spraying his ass crack with my warm pearls.
He finally stepped off the couch, and turned and presented me with his cum spotted crack, and I leaned in and tongued him clean, then went on to give him a long rimming, forcing my tongue in as deep as I could. He was loving it I could tell, form the sounds he was moaning out of his throat. He started stroking his dick again, and after some time of my rimming him, he suddenly stood up and twisted around and presented me with his redheaded monster. I wrapped my lips around his knob, and felt him squirt into me several times. I swallowed him to the root, and let him gag me a little with his cock.
When he finished, and had finally gone limp, he pulled out of me, and stepped back on shaky legs. He started looking around for his pants, and finding them pulled them on one leg at a time. Dressed again, I was still sitting on the couch with my pants open playing with my half stiff cock, and he dropped to his knees and sucked me in. He was less gentle this time, and after wetting his index finger with a gob of saliva, he drove it into my hole, and finger fucked my prostate, while I quickly rose to the occasion and filled his mouth with another load of cum.
After that, we were through for the day, but made a date for the next weekend. I for one was drained like I hadn’t been in years, but it was a good feeling, and I started counting the days until my cast could come off. I wanted this guy in every way I could imagine, and I knew it was mutual.
The End
