Yes, with no distractions

"Almost done, man, just hold still for a bit longer..."

"My thigh is cramping up, man. Can't we take a break?" AJ decried. Richter looked up to see his friend's face contorted in discomfort--though he couldn't tell how much of it was for show.

"Even if we weren't literally almost done, the answer'd still be no." Richter said through pursed lips as he tightened the third-to-last internal screw, holding his magnetic screwdriver to his specimen's artificial knee. "You can't put any pressure on it yet, and it has to hang in the air for everything to set right."

AJ groaned, leaning back in his chair as he linked his fingers beneath his bare thigh. If Richter had a proper surgical table, this wouldn't be a problem, but using a normal table or even a bed would not only be messy, it might cause his subject to become too comfortable, and hurt himself anyway.

So, the alternative was to have him sit up in his chair and keep his leg elevated. For nearly an hour, they slaved like this. Whatever pretense of arousal AJ had at being naked, in private, for so long was quickly set aside, his penis becoming flaccid with the sheer focus and stress of keeping his thigh held up, even as a significant amount of new weight was attached to him.

This case was one like many others that Richter handled for the locals. AJ and his family had signed him up for an upgrade, and only after the amputation surgery had been undergone did the installers inform them that the part they had requested was incompatible, out of stock, or simply too expensive, leaving him crippled. Unable to work in such a state, it served only to keep the poor poorer.

Since AJ had been Richter's friend since early high school, there was no question that he'd try to help out. The problem was that knee joints were some of the most expensive parts around--there was a reason so many amateur athletes elected to get their cyborg replacements below the knee. It took weeks for him to find enough damaged goods to fiddle together into a proper attachment for the recent amputee.

With his tongue ever-so-slightly escaping from his mouth, Richter held the magnetic screwdriver to the last flat space, tightening that screw behind the metal plate. "And... done! Okay, you're good. You can put your weight down."

"Oooohohoho, thank fucking Christ!" AJ expounded as his metal foot met the concrete floor of his family's garage. "That fucking sucked, man. Don't ever make me do that again."

"You're welcome, he said, hoping that was supposed to be a 'thank you.'" Richter replied sarcastically. He chuckled slightly to himself as he stood up from his kneeling position, massaging his own legs through his sweatpants as he did so.

AJ stood up, satisfied enough with stomping on the floor from his chair. He picked up his new leg, taking it all in and posing it like a model for him--and for Richter--to see. "This shit turned out tight, dude."

"I'm glad it was worth the wait." he said apologetically. He began to pack his tools back into his case, when he suddenly became aware of another figure in the room.

A latina woman with bleach-blonde hair, loose and let down, was leaning against the garage door into the house. She was completely nude, with her sizable right breast shaking as her arm shook from the motions being made at her crotch. She was frigging herself, shoving two long, mechanical fingers in and out of her organic vagina. Through all of it, though, her attention was held on Richter and AJ.

It was AJ's older sister, Nadia.

"Okay, why are you so fucking weird?" AJ said, unable or unwilling to pretend that his erection wasn't returning.

"Is it that weird that I like to watch you suffer?" she replied, slowing her masturbation enough for Richter to see a shiny coating on her metal phalanges.

"Uh, yeah, a little bit." her brother shot back.

"Well fine then." Nadia tilted her head back in a feigned huff, removing her fingers from her clit and opening the garage door. She stepped back inside, taking extra care to shake her ass just so before the door shut

AJ turned to Richter, his hard-on following along to point at him. "Sorry about her." Evidently, he hadn't noticed that Richter, too, was sporting a tent in his baggy pants.

"So, did you wanna hang out at all?"