Phantom Phapping

Snake was always thinking about it in the back of his mind.

Whenever he was surveying an area, or just having some alone time outside of Mother Base, he thought of doing it, even if only for a moment.

He was thinking, of course, about jerking off with his bionic arm. Would it feel uncomfortable? Would it be surprisingly nice? Would it feel like a stranger touching him? Today, Snake would find the answer to these questions.

Snake was lying prone in a ridge atop a small mountain, surveying a particular camp. Not much was happening, some soldiers gossiping about moving cardboard, some Russian slang, the weather.

Putting his binoculars away, he sat up and moved back a slight amount, just to make sure no one would see him. Quiet wasn't with him today, nor was D-Dog or D-Horse, so he could tend to his curiosity in peace.

Unzipping his pants, he found that his other snake was equally interested in this activity. Brushing some gravel off his metal arm, Snake carefully gripped his curious erection with the cold, steely fingers.

As expected, Snake winced at the lack of temperature in his arm, but slowly relaxed into it, moving his arm up and down in a slow rhythm. It did feel like a stranger's hand, and at first it was slightly uncomfortable, but as time went on, the pace increased, and Snake was beginning to greatly enjoy himself.

It was quite an exhilarating act, his arm whirring with effort, the odd feeling of having someone else touching him while he was still in control, and the ever-increasing rivulets of pre-ejaculatory fluid snaking down his metal digits.

Snake could feel the finale approaching, and his augmented appendage began to keep the stroking brief and frenzied, building up to a strangely incredible org-


                 "Boss, that's an enemy gunship. A single blast from its machine gun could rip a man in half..."


Shit! Snake jumped in surprise, and then remembered that he was still in Afghanistan, and enemy gunships certainly did exist. Hearing Ocelot's voice being quickly overshadowed by the loud blades of the helicopter, Snake fumbled to pull his pants back up, ignoring the sticky alabaster mess he just made.

Hastily, Snake lay prone and watched the hovering death machine glide away from him, slowly turning into a dot on the horizon.

Exasperated, Snake sat back up and promised himself, to never do that in the open again.