Something
changed after that.
I
didn’t know how important that little shred of hope was for me. Or how devastating it was for my self-esteem
to be rejected by a paid sex worker. I
tried to throw myself into my work, but I felt like I couldn’t take the same
joy in it. I found myself growing
increasingly irritable, especially with the people who cared for me.
A
few days after my encounter with Jordan, I shit my pants about fifteen minutes
before Maria was set to leave. She was
in the middle of doing the laundry, and I came to find her to get changed.
“I
need to be changed,” I tell her through my talker.
Maria
stops folding sheets, smiles at me, then pats me on the head.
The
whole thing infuriates me. I know Hannah
is coming very soon and she’ll take care of it, but right now, that doesn’t
appease me. I can’t be patient. I am literally sitting in shit. It smells.
I’m going to smell of it all day if she doesn’t change me soon.
I
mean, I’m an adult. I shouldn’t have to
be sitting in a dirty diaper. It’s bad
enough that I have to wear them, but the least Maria could do after all the
money my parents were paying her was not to leave me sitting in my own fecal
matter.
“Change
me now!” I boom at her through my talker.
Maria
looks up at me vacantly and smiles. “You
wait, yes, nino? Hannah be here soon.”
“If
you don’t change me now,” I say through the talker, “you are fired.”
Maria
looks at me in surprise. I almost never
speak to her through the talker, and I’d certainly never said anything like
that. But you know what? I think it was a good thing. All my nurses think I’m simpleminded, because
I never speak up for myself. Maybe it’s time to show them who their boss
is. Maybe then she won’t laugh when I
get an erection.
I
don’t know what Maria would have done, except Hannah comes in then. She can smell me right away, and volunteers
to get me changed. I grumble though the
whole thing, but Hannah ignores me.
Which is fine because I don’t really feel like talking to her anyway.
*****
About
two weeks after my encounter with Jordan, I have a skype chat with a friend of
mine at MIT. His name is Doug and he has
severe spastic quadriplegic CP like I do, except he’s twenty years older than
me. He just turned 45 last month.
When
I look at Doug, in some ways, it’s like a mirror into the future. Of course, there are differences between the
two of us. I’m doing theoretical physics
and his degree is in math, and his IQ is actually ten points higher than
mine. His speech and mobility is more
impaired than mine, in that he can only grunt, and he uses eye and head
movements to get his talker to function.
I also found out on the one occasion that we met in real life that he
can only eat pureed foods, and relies on a feeding tube in his stomach for most
of his nutrition.
On
the other hand, Doug’s family is much more supportive than mine. While I have always been primarily in the
care of nurses or other care assistants, Doug’s parents did most of his care
when he was younger. Now that his
parents are in their seventies, he still lives with them, but has nurses who
come in, as well as siblings that are always eager to pitch in. I’m jealous of all that.
So
like I said, Doug and I have a lot of differences between us. But in most of the ways that really matter,
we’re identical. If a normal person
looked at the two of us, they probably wouldn’t be able to discern any
difference. As much as I sometimes like
to pretend that’s not true.
When
Doug’s face appears on the computer screen, I allow myself the first smile I’ve
had in two weeks. I really wish Doug
didn’t live 3,000 miles away from me.
But
as comforting as it is to see Doug, it also bothers me sometimes. When I see
his twisted face, I know that’s exactly how I look when my spasms are bad. And
it’s not pretty. When I hear his donkey
laugh, I can’t kid myself that I sound at all normal.
“Hi,
Graham,” the voice of his talker says.
“How are you doing?”
“I’ve
been better,” I respond with my own talker.
We
talk a little bit about our latest research.
Doug is actually a full professor at MIT, and even teaches a class via
Skype. He’s really accomplished a lot,
and I admire him for it. But today,
there’s only one thing on my mind.
“Doug,”
I say with my talker. “I need to ask you
a question.”
“Go
ahead,” Doug says with his talker. “You
can ask me anything, Graham.”
I
pull my hand away from my talker and ask the question in my normal voice: “Have
you ever had a girlfriend?”
Doug
doesn’t seem entirely surprised by my question.
I see him forming the response, and I wait patiently, knowing he doesn’t
have any access to natural speech. “Not
exactly,” he says. “Not in the
traditional sense of the word.”
“Oh,”
I say.
That
wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. I
wanted Doug to tell me that he’d had a relationship with a woman where he
fucked her brains out and left her wanting more. But that never seemed very likely.
“It
was a woman I met at the university,” Doug says. “She was in one of my classes. She had similar physical limitations to the
two of us, and she was inspired by me.
So we got to be friends… and then, I’d say, a bit more than friends.”
“Did
you ever kiss?” I ask, still in my real voice.
“No,”
he says after another long pause. “It
wasn’t a physical sort of relationship.
The sort of thing would have been logistically impossible between the
two of us.”
“Have
you ever kissed a woman?”
“No.”
“Oh,”
I say again.
That
sick feeling I’d had since Jordan walked out on me threatens to overtake my
entire body. Doug’s future is my
own. He’s 45 and has never even kissed a
woman. I don’t see how things will be
any different for me. At 45, I will be just like him—living with my parents,
still a virgin, still completely dependent on nurses who think I’m
retarded. How can it be any different?
“Graham,”
Doug says, “remind me how old you are.”
“I’m
24.”
“That’s
a rough age,” Doug says. “It’s the age
when I started looking around, at my brothers and sisters and other students
and saw all of them in relationships, and all I could think was how unfair it
was that it would never happen for me. All because I was trapped in a body that
didn’t work.” He pauses, composing his
next sentences. “I wanted it
desperately. At times, I was so furious
that I lashed out.”
That
sounds familiar.
“But
I was wrong,” he continues. “The
relationship I had with Gloria was deeper than many people get to experience in
their lifetime. Maybe we never kissed,
but I wouldn’t give up those eight years with her for anything.”
I
don’t know what to say to that. Right
now, I can’t imagine even something like that for myself.
“You
will find a soulmate, Graham,” Doug says.
“I promise you. You’ll find her
and then you’ll say, ‘Doug told me so.’”
Despite
everything, I smile.
*****
“I’ve
been meaning to ask you, tiger,” Hannah says to me the next day, as she washes
dishes while I eat my lunch, “how did it go with the H-O-O-K-E-R?”
I
take my time swallowing before I answer her.
“Not so good.”
“Yeah?”
Hannah puts down the plate she’s rinsing off and looks at me. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,”
I mumble.
But
Hannah comes over to the table and sits down next to me anyway. “What happened, Graham?”
I
don’t really want to tell her. But in
the end, I know I’ve got to talk to someone about it. May as well be Hannah.
“She
couldn’t go through with it,” I say.
“Oh,
Graham,” Hannah murmurs. “That… that
really sucks.”
“Yeah,”
I say. “But… I guess I can understand
it. I mean, it was unrealistic to think
that…”
Hannah
raises her eyebrows at me. “That a woman
would be willing to have sex with you?”
I
can’t get any words out, so I just nod.
“Oh,
Graham,” she murmurs again. She runs a
hand gently through my hair, like she’s comforting her son.
“I’m
okay,” I say. “I’ve accepted it.”
Hannah
runs her hand through my hair again, and it feels so nice. It’s so unfair. First I had parents who didn’t love me, and
now I’ll never get a woman to love me.
I’ll never have a woman touch me this way out of love. Because of my stupid, crippled body.
Hannah’s
hand leaves my hair and cups my cheek, her fingers grazing the stubble of a
beard on my face. I haven’t been shaved
since yesterday. She smiles at me as she
continues stroking the side of my face. Then
to my utter shock, she leans forward and kisses me on the lips.
At
first, it’s a chaste kiss that a mother might give a son. But then her lips linger on mine, and I feel
her tongue trying to probe my mouth. I
part my lips slightly to allow her inside, although I still feel ashamed that I
don’t have good control over my tongue and the residuals of my lunch are still
in my mouth.
When
Hannah pulls away, I can only stare at her, completely speechless.
“Do
you know why I did that?” she asks.
“Because
you feel sorry for me?” I didn’t mean to say that, but it’s what I believe.
Hannah
smiles. “Well, a little. It’s hard not to after what that bitchy whore
did to you.”
Well,
I know it’s not because she’s in love with me.
I’m pretty sure of that much.
“I
want to prove to you that you’re wrong,” she says. “That you’re not some crippled thing that makes women disgusted. I had a date last week, and kissing that guy
wasn’t half as nice as it was kissing you. And you’re much cuter too.”
“You’re
a good man, Graham,” Hannah says.
“You’re sweet, you’re hella smart, you’re sensitive… and you’re sexy
too.”
Okay,
this is going beyond ridiculous. Maybe
Hannah was able to push away her disgust long enough to kiss me, but I just
don’t buy all this. “I’m not sexy,” I say.
“Why
don’t you let me decide what’s sexy,” Hannah says.
I
watch, wide-eyed, as Hannah pushes away the armrests of my wheelchair. She gets up out of her own chair and
straddles me in my power chair. She
lowers her lips onto mine, and now we’re full on making out. And you know what? She actually doesn’t seem disgusted at
all. If she isn’t enjoying herself,
she’s one hell of an actress.
“Graham,”
she whispers in my ear. “Can I tell you
a secret?”
I
nod breathlessly.
“I
haven’t had sex in two years,” she breathes.
“Two fucking years. Not that
there haven’t been opportunities, but it’s just never been right. You know?”
I
nod again. “Hannah…”
She
cups my cheeks and her green eyes look deep into mine. “If we do this, Graham,” she says, “you can’t
tell anyone. I could lose my license. Seriously, not your parents, your friends…
nobody.”
“Never,”
I gasp.
She nods, then climbs off me so she can take
off her tight jeans. I watch her,
praying my body won’t do something horrible like go into spasm. Her panties slip down around her ankles and
she steps out of them, one leg at a time.
Then she pulls her T-shirt over her head, revealing two absolutely perfect
breasts.
“Christ,”
I murmur.
Hannah
looks at my face and laughs. “That’s
what I love about you, Graham,” she says.
“Any other guy would be mentally criticizing my saggy tits and stretch
marks, but you’re looking at me like I’m a fucking goddess or something.”
She
is a goddess. I’ll run down anyone who claims otherwise.
Then
she unzips my pants. Of course, I’ve got
the diaper underneath, which is thankfully dry for the moment. I feel her pulling off the tape on the diaper,
and as she does this, I recognize this for what it is. Maybe Hannah isn’t disgusted by me. Maybe she’s even a little bit attracted to
me—I can buy that. But this is a
one-time thing. She’s not in love with
me and never will be, not like how I have the potential to fall madly in love
with her.
My
penis pops out, and I’ve never seen it so big and hard. Hannah smiles with delight, and even I’m a
little surprised and pleased with myself.
Hannah grips it in her hand, and I moan in a way I’ve never moaned
before. I’ve never felt anything like
this before, in all the years of women touching my penis (and there have been
many, trust me).
Hannah
doesn’t hesitate. She straddles me
again, and this time, she guides me with her hand inside her. I feel her pussy gripping my penis, and it’s
so amazing, I nearly see stars. I know
that I’m supposed to be trying to hold out, but I can’t. Two thrusts later, my body explodes and I
moan so loudly, I nearly start to cry.
Hannah
continues straddling me as she touches herself.
I watch her in fascination as she grinds against me, breathing faster
and faster, until she too cries out and her body goes limp against mine.
“That,”
she whispers in my ear, “was nice.
Brief, but nice.”
I
know she won’t be able to lie against me forever, but I’m going to enjoy it
while it lasts. I’m really glad it
wasn’t some hooker who took my virginity instead of Hannah. Hannah’s and my
love might not be one for the ages, but it’s just that—brief, but nice.
The End
I'm sad to see this story end, Aloha. I think this has been one of my favorites! Thanks for sharing it with us :)
ReplyDeleteVery good ending, in my opinion. Thanks for all of it, I greatly enjoyed it :)
ReplyDeleteI'm sad to see it end too, but I really enjoyed it!
ReplyDeleteI loved it so much. Especially as it was from his POV... hope you have something else to share. Thank you so much for your story!
ReplyDeleteI do have some other stories in my archive, but I always feel like I get a fairly lukewarm response on here compared with other types of stories. So sometimes it's hard to work up the motivation to post them.
ReplyDeleteYour stories are some of my absolute favorites! I really enjoyed this one and look forward to reading more soon!
DeleteI need to agree! Your stories are also one of my favorites! I really like the way you write and I always find the plot very interesting! Please keep on posting! I believe there are a lot of us out there ;)
DeleteOh please continue posting stories... Your writing is amazing!
ReplyDeleteCan't imagine a luke warm response. Love you're stories. This one was perfect and the ending just right. I also really enjoyed the way you ended it.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteA new try:
DeleteThank you so much for this great story! Graham was a compelling and complex character with his limitations and frustrations but an incredibly strong one who doesn't shy away from threatening to fire his PCA when she treats him badly or who tries to overcome his disappointment by throwing himself into work instead of whining around.
The previous chapter left me heartbroken when the H-O-O-K-E-R didn't do what she was paid to do but I was consoled by how you finished off the story.
Also, I liked Doug!!
Thank you once again and I'd be very glad to read some other of your stories. :)
Sorry it had to end, but in such a lovely way! Thanks.
ReplyDelete