Mike nodded his head before leaving the bedroom and heading back downstairs to see how Pat and Don were doing. He found the two men almost collapsed on his wraparound, leather sofa with their boxer shorts on and a beer in their hands.
Don gave him a slight wink and raised his bottle in mock salute. "How'd it go?"
"All I can say," Mike answered as he continued past them towards the kitchen, "is that you're a lucky man."
"That's what Ashley keeps telling me," Don said with a chuckle that Pat and Mike both joined.
"I'm gonna' check on Chris quick. You guys catch your breath because I think those three aren't even close to being done with us yet."
"Sounds good," Pat said before taking a swig of his beer and reclining a little further.
Mike grabbed a beer for himself out of the fridge and then went down the hall. He knocked once on the door at the end and heard Chris's, "Yeah," in response. Mike opened the door to find his buddy sitting in his usual spot, almost enshrined in an expensive, high-backed, leather desk chair. In front of him was a massive L-shaped desk covered in electronics. A 62" plasma screen TV/monitor dominated the center of the desk's 'elbow' with two slightly smaller monitors positioned on either side.
Mike could hear the hum of three powerful computers and could see the curved plastic of Chris's headphones peeking above the back of his chair. Chris's right hand was inside a peculiar looking device that was strapped to the armrest and Mike knew that a wireless keyboard was almost definitely sitting on a custom made support above his lap.
Chris paused the game he was currently playing before spinning his chair around to see who was coming to pester him. When he saw that it was Mike, he pulled his headphones down around his neck and spun his chair back to face his desk with a casual, if not altogether friendly, "what's up?"
It wasn't like he was a mean guy, but Chris had had a rough life. His parents were both killed in military service when he was young and after deciding to honor them by joining up himself, he had suffered a serious injury mere months after going into active service.
On a routine recon mission in Iraq, a bad communications relay had caused his platoon to be out of position with their own armor support and a wrong turn had caused him to have his foot literally run over by one of his own tanks.
His left foot had been severely crushed and the ligaments and tendons in his ankle had been torn beyond recovery. After multiple surgeries, he regained the use of his foot, but it would never be the same as it was and the damage would continue to deteriorate causing an increase of the pain he was already in. In short, his military career was over, and he would never have the ability to do the things that used to be ordinary activities.
The worst of it was that aside from the bad foot, the rest of his body was in completely perfect working order. Sitting in his chair, he felt like the accident had never happened, but he knew that he would never be able to fully enjoy the life he had grown so fond of ever again. Now, he spent most of his days in that very chair, trying to take pleasure in the very few things that were left to enjoy.
Bitterness had replaced most of the once good-humored man who had had the best years of his life stripped from him by a stupid mistake. Mike had immediately agreed to put him up after his medical discharge and had even designed and helped pay for the addition to the house where Chris now resided. Chris's military benefits helped pay for most of it and slowed him to purchase all the furnishings in his room, including the expensive computer gear. The rest covered his ongoing medical expenses
"Just wanted to check on you and let you know what's going on," Mike said as he walked over to stand beside Chris's expensive chair. "You want a beer?"
"Sure, nice boxers," Chris replied as he went back to playing his game.
Mike grabbed one from the mini-fridge that was set into the far end of the desk and brought it over. "Yeah, funny story, Cassie is here and..."
"Hilarious," Chris interrupted with a quick glance and a smirk.
"Right. Anyway, she came over here to ask everyone to have sex with her," Mike blurted.
Chris almost spit the mouthful of beer he had just taken all over his desk. He struggled to swallow and then coughed as it burned the back of his throat and threatened to come out his nose. "She, hmm, she what?" He managed.
"You heard me buddy. Seems Kaiden finally crossed the line one too many times and she wanted to get back at him big time. We were all upstairs for the last hour and a half screwing her brains out on camera."
"Well, hooray for you," Chris said in his best sarcastic tone. "Why the hell are you telling me?"
"Because she wants to fuck you too," Mike answered quickly.
Chris almost spit out another mouthful of beer.
"She insisted on it, actually," Mike added while trying not to laugh.
"Really?" Chris asked. "Why?"
"Because we're all friends. I know you might not think so all the time, but everyone here likes you. None of us would have agreed to do this unless you were included as well."
"OK, but what exactly am I supposed to do?"
"Well, as far as I know," Mike said with a grin, "the only thing that doesn't work is your foot. So, unless she wants you to fuck her with that, I'm confident you'll figure something out."
