SUBJECT LINE:
"Handi-Capable" by Dancer (M/F, oral, rom) [1/3]



Handi-Capable
By Dancer
Copyright, 2001

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If you are under 18 years of age and reading this, the 
penguin on top of your monitor will explode in two minutes.

Author's Note: The working title was 'Pity', as in a 'pity 
fuck' but it didn't fit as I wrote on. It came to me when I 
fantasized about having sex with a guy in a wheelchair. Not 
truly paralyzed (damaged spine) or an amputee, but a guy 
who had no real reason to be sitting in that chair. 
Hopefully, I came up with a logical, acceptable explanation 
and you enjoy the story. Makes me think of the blind guy 
with a driver's license - is it in English so other people 
can read it or in Braille? Then you realize what the fuck 
is a *blind* man doing with a driver's license?!

{Poster's Note: This is the first story of a three-part 
series. "Fledgling" and "Learning to Fly" are the following 
two 'chapters'; though my darling wife wrote each as fairly 
'independent episodes', you might enjoy it more if you read 
the series in completion. And remember, even though I - 
Empath - am the one who posted these stories, my wife - 
Dancer - is the author.}


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Handi-Capable 


He threw the sheet off his legs and looked for his chair. 
It still sat where he parked it before going to bed. He 
tried rolling it to check the brakes and its wheels stayed 
locked. He sat up and pushed his legs over the edge of the 
bed. His hands grabbed the arms of the chair firmly, then 
hoisted himself up and into the seat. He bent down and 
flipped the foot pedals. He lifted each leg and placed his 
feet on the metal rests. He unlocked the brakes and wheeled 
himself to the intercom next to his computer. "Hey Nurse 
Ratchett? Can you come up and help me take a bath?"

The woman laughed and the sound crackled over the line. 
"Sure, Eric, I'll be up in minute." He clicked off the send 
button and heard her coming up the stairs. His bedroom door 
opened and she came inside. She smiled and said, "OK funny 
man, let's get that bath going." She led him into the 
bathroom and turned on the taps. Eric tested the water and 
found it warm. He hated taking these pussy baths. He wanted 
to slip into water that turned his skin red but the doctors 
said the heat might scald his legs.

Nurse Ratchett guided Eric over the side of the tub and 
waited for him to give the okay. His hands swirled the 
water over his legs. "I'll be fine, Sheila." She nodded and 
closed the door behind her. He knew she waited for him in 
his room, just in case he needed her. Eric hated himself. 
The car wreck was 15 years ago and his paralysis was his 
own fault. He remembered the car rolling into the ditch, 
landing on its roof. He had climbed out through the window 
and pulled his brother, Doug, and Doug's girlfriend away 
from the car. Because of that heroic gesture, Eric lost the 
use of his legs.

The doctors performed test after test and found nothing. 
His brain functioned normally, his neck was fine, his back 
wasn't broken and the spinal cord was intact. The 
neurologists told him there was no reason for his legs not 
to work. When he was by himself, he tried walking but 
always fell. His legs would not support his weight any 
more. He washed his lower limbs and crotch, thankful he 
didn't need a catheter. Typically, his penis had a mind of 
its own. Eric could get hard but the stupid thing went limp 
every time he tried to masturbate.

He had just worked up the courage to start playing with 
himself the night of the accident. Doug and his girlfriend, 
Tami, were taking him to see 'Return of the Jedi' and 
finding out what would happen to Han Solo filled Eric's 
thirteen-year-old brain. He was in the back of Doug's '78 
LTD and was leaning up between the front seats when he saw 
a glimpse of Tami's breasts. It was only the curve of the 
tops but that gave him his very first boner. He'd heard 
about jacking off from his buddies at school and decided 
tonight was the night. Then the deer leapt out onto the 
road. Doug swerved, hit the gravel and the car rolled. Eric 
never did get to jack off.

Eric finished his bath and called for Sheila. She helped 
him sit on the edge and let him dry off while she found 
some clothes for him to wear. The faded jeans, socks and 
black AC\DC concert shirt were laid on the counter and 
Sheila wrapped her arms around Eric's chest. She lifted him 
up so he could dry his ass. When he was done, he drew the 
towel around him and she sat him down. He slipped on the 
white tube socks first and then the T-shirt. He got his 
feet and legs into the jeans, then needed some help to pull 
them over his hips. He didn't bother with underwear since 
they got in the way when he was taking a leak.

"Are you coming down for breakfast? French toast and 
sausages," Sheila teased.

"Nay, I got better things to do." They went to his 
connecting room. "Beth probably e-mailed me." Sheila 
chuckled and went down to the kitchen. Eric flipped on his 
computer and checked his mailbox. Sure enough, she had sent 
him a couple messages. They'd been 'talking' for over a 
year and knew almost everything about each other. Beth was 
a pseudonym for Christi Parks and her first love was KISS, 
hence the name Beth. They met in a heavy metal chatroom and 
started arguing over the better band, KISS or AC\DC. Other 
users told them to move their bickering over to e-mail and 
the fighting tapered off.

Eric recalled the first package he got from Christi. It was 
her favorite KISS CD, 'Love Gun'. He popped in his stereo 
and was hooked. The e-mail he sent her right after that was 
nothing but lyrics from the songs. He snail mailed 'Back In 
Black' over to her and waited for her reaction. She emailed 
back that AC\DC was almost as good as KISS. They talked 
about anything and everything. Eric consoled her when she 
told him about getting dumped. That e-mail was full of 
anger:
He said I was *fat*! Can you believe that man! 
I'm not fat; I'm voluptuous! He kisses like a 
two-year-old anyway. Yuck! Slobbering and trying 
to stick his tongue down my throat, no thank you!

It was one time his cock sprang to life. Christi became 
more than a friend after that and Eric decided today he'd 
be honest. He opened her message and read:
Hey Eric, how's it hanging? Long and hard I 
hope <g>. There's a band I know playing over in 
Grand Falls this weekend. Would you like to met 
IRL? I'll drive! E-mail me yea or nay. Christi

The second message:
I'm baaack! The band's Tango and they cover all 
heavy metal. It'll be kick ass but lonely if you 
say no. Christi

He saved her e-mails and opened his own reply:
Christi, I'd love to see you IRL but I gotta get 
something off my chest. <deep breath> I'm in a
wheelchair. I had a car accident fifteen years 
ago and haven't been able to walk since. Please 
don't hate me! We haven't sent any pics, so I'll 
describe myself. 6'2" <standing> or 5'8" 
<seated>, blonde hair cut short and feathered, 
blue eyes, 173# and strong upper body. Don't 
leave me in agony! Email me either way so I know.
Eric

He clicked on 'Send' and waited. Eight minutes later, (he'd 
been watching the clock) he got her answer:
Eric, how come you waited so long? Chicken shit? 
Well, I won't hold your handicap (?) against you.
I have digital pics of me and I made an 
attachment of them. One is me in my KISS regalia 
and the other is me with my Camaro. You sound 
fine but send me a pic of you. What if you forgot 
to mention your hair-lip?! <jk> Ignore mine and 
call me. Christi

Eric erupted in laughter. That was her best feature - 
making him laugh. He opened her attachment and let the 
computer boot up the first picture. It was the KISS one. 
She was in a black leather outfit, cut low, with a chain 
belt and full makeup like Paul Stanley. Her face was hard 
to make out but that outfit clung tightly to her fabulous 
bod. Her tits practically fell out of the top and he had to 
wipe the drool from his chin. She was turned slightly, as 
if caught off guard, and Eric got a nice side view of her 
full ass. Saving this one on the hard drive, he moved the 
mouse to open the other picture.

This one gave him a good look at her face. She was leaning 
against the driver's door and wore rolled up denim shorts 
like Jennifer Grey in 'Dirty Dancing' and a gray tank top. 
Her brown hair was long and loose. He squinted at the 
screen to figure out the color of her eyes that were light, 
either blue or green. Her face was round and a dimple 
formed in her left cheek as she smiled. The tattoo on her 
upper arm was a long stemmed rose. Her bare legs were 
tanned and crossed at the ankles. He was getting turned on 
and looked at the fly of his jeans. Nothing. Maybe if he 
got his legs working, his prick would follow.

Now he had to find some decent shots of him. He put his 
mail on hold and went searching through his digital photo 
album. The vacation his parents dragged him on when they 
went Florida to see Doug and Tami. He didn't want to go but 
now was grateful because he had some choice photos to email 
Christi. The one of him popping a wheelie with his niece, 
Nicole, on his lap, definitely. He racked his brain for one 
that showed him without the chair. Daytona Beach! Doug and 
Tami took him there and he had to leave his chair in the 
minivan because of the sand. He was laying on a towel 
wearing a pair of bikini bottoms and looking right into the 
camera. Eric copied both and made his own attachment to 
mail Christi:
Christi, got some pics. One is me with my niece, 
Nicole, and the other is me at Daytona Beach last 
summer. Don't reply, I'll call you in 20 minutes. 
Eric

He closed out Windows and let the screen saver take over. 
He backed up and wheeled over to his closet to pick out 
what to wear. Something casual. Eric yelled, "Sheila! I 
need your help!"

The door rattled as Sheila burst through and said, "What 
happened?"

Eric called over his shoulder, "What do you think I should 
wear? I've got a date this weekend with Beth." He always 
called Christi by her KISS nickname.

"I thought you were hurt." She stood behind him. "What kind 
of date?"

"We're going to see a band over in Grand Falls. Probably in 
a bar." He pulled down a pair of brown leather pants and a 
black mesh shirt. "How about these?"

"The pants might be too tight. What if you really had to 
pee? Can you get out of them fast enough?" She had a point 
but he wanted to look sexy and macho for Christi - that he 
was a man and not some cripple. "I can put a catheter 
in..."

"No fucking way!" Eric shouted. "Got any other bright 
ideas?"

"What kind of music, heavy metal?" He nodded. "Ripped jeans 
are a turn on. Got any of those in here?" They found a pair 
stuffed behind some boxes in the corner. The knees were 
long since gone and they were faded nearly white. They got 
tossed on a chair and Sheila left him alone again.

The clock on his bedside table read 9.50 a.m. Time to phone 
Christi. He opened the drawer and pulled out his address 
book to look up her number. He carefully punched in the 
numbers and heard it ring...and ring...and ring...and ring.

She picked and said out of breath, "Eric?"

"Hey Christi, did you get my e-mail?" He twisted the phone 
cord nervously.

"Yeah, and all I can say is 'WOW'! You are one gorgeous 
hunk of man and I barely noticed the harelip."

He giggled. "I've had surgery since then. May I be a total 
chauvinist pig and say 'nice tits'?"

Christi's voice became throaty and she replied, "They're 
all me, honey. Not one drop of silicone in these 40 C cup 
babies." Eric groaned and she chuckled. "I couldn't help 
myself. You just make me want to tease you mercilessly." 
She paused. "Tango starts playing at nine. Will you be 
ready by eight?"

"Sure. What day are we going?"

"They've been booked tonight, Saturday and Sunday. Would 
tonight put you in too much of a rush?"

"Naw. I already picked out what I'm going to wear. How 
about you?"

"I got the perfect outfit." A squeak came over the line. "I 
sat down on my bed so that noise isn't the phone line. 
Anyway, I'll wear my good ripped jeans, sneakers and a tube 
top with a black shirt over the top."

"What color's the tube top? Black?"

"It's fire engine red. Tell me what you're wearing so I can 
drool over the phone."

"Ripped jeans faded to white and a black mesh T-shirt." All 
he heard was deep breaths. "Are you still there?"

"Hmm-mmm, just getting hot and bothered. I'll see you 
tonight at eight. Bye."

"Bye, Christi," he sighed and hung up. Would ten hours be 
enough time to get dressed? He snorted at his thought and 
wheeled downstairs for some food.

* * * * *

At seven that evening, Eric rolled his chair into the 
bathroom to brush his teeth and see if he needed to shave. 
He rubbed his jawline and felt the dark blonde stubble he 
couldn't see. He'd leave it be and reached for his 
toothbrush. He squirted some gel on the bristles and went 
to work. His thoughts filled with Christi as he brushed 
over his teeth, tongue and the roof of his mouth. He hoped 
to get at least a goodnight kiss out of her. He rinsed and 
spat in the sink putting his brush back in the holder on 
the counter.

He wheeled into his bedroom and picked up his clothes for 
tonight. He threw the lot on the bed and got out of the 
chair. He sat down next to the clothes and got changed. 
Rolling around helped work the pants over his hips and he 
snapped the fly shut. He pulled one leg up onto his knee 
and slid a pair of tube socks on the foot, repeating it on 
the other one. The black tennis shoes were at the foot of 
the bed and he put them on. Lastly came the shirt and he 
laid back. He closed his eyes and thought of Christi 
straddling him. Dreamily, he moved his hands to ease her 
top off and free her breasts. Just as one ripe nipple came 
to his lips, a knocking on the door brought him back to 
reality.

Sheila called from the other side. "There's some girl here 
for you! Says her name is Beth!" She cracked the door. 
"Doing okay?"

"Yeah, Sheila, I'm fine. I just gotta get back in that 
chair." He sat up and maneuvered his body into the chair. 
Eric rolled himself down the ramp to the front hall. 
Christi was standing there with her hands shoved in her 
back pockets waiting for him.

"I'm early. I just couldn't wait any longer." She met Eric 
halfway and kissed his mouth shyly. "Ready to party 
hearty?"

"Definitely," he said and took her hand. Sheila gave her 
her pager number in case there was an emergency. Christi 
and Eric left the house and he wheeled to the driveway 
where her Camaro was parked. She opened the door for him 
and he whistled. "Nice ride."

"Thanks. It drives like a dream." He lifted himself out of 
the chair and into the passenger seat. He helped her fold 
down the chair and she stowed it in the trunk. She got 
behind the wheel and fastened her seatbelt as Eric did the 
same. The motor turned over, growling, and KISS blasted 
through the speakers. The windows came down instantly as 
Christi pulled out and headed for Grand Falls. She wiggled 
in the bucket seat, dancing and singing with Gene Simmons.

Eric just watched her with a grin plastered on his face. 
Damn, she looked hot! Her jeans were good as the rips were 
located just under her rear pockets and the red tube top 
enhanced her bust. The black dress shirt was tied loosely 
at her waist and her hair was fluffed high and held there 
with hairspray. KISS ended and the strains of Angus Young's 
guitar filled the air. Soon, Eric was tapping his palm 
against his thigh and singing out loud.

The drive over to Grand Falls took about half an hour. 
Christi pulled in the parking lot and drove into a free 
space off the right side of the building. A neon sign 
flashed a Coors advertisement in front of them. She turned 
off the car and stepped to the trunk to get his wheelchair 
out. Eric unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door wide. 
She unfolded it and checked the brakes. He levered himself 
in, released the brakes and wheeled to the door. She shoved 
it open and let him go first.

The inside was a little smoky and there were cafeteria 
style tables set up. Booths lined the walls and they worked 
their way to a round, scarred table next to the stage. Eric 
parked and Christi asked, "Do you want a beer or pop?"

"Beer's fine." He watched her sashay over to the bar and 
pay for two longneck bottles. She sat next to him and they 
watched Tango set up their instruments. More people came in 
and soon the place was packed. One of the band guys noticed 
Christi and came over.

"Hey Chris."

"Hey Tom, gonna play any KISS and AC\DC?"

"Shit, girl! Wouldn't be much of party without them." He 
saluted us and went back to tuning his guitar.

Eric leaned close to her ear. "Who was that?"

She moved closer and said loudly, "Tom Parks, my brother. 
Plays rhythm guitar and sings." He nodded with approval and 
drank his beer. "Mind if I dance tonight with other guys?"

When she mentioned dancing, Eric felt guilty but he came 
back with, "I don't care as long as you dance with me once 
in a while." She grinned fully and punched his shoulder 
lightly. The drummer started thumping out a strong beat and 
Tom took the mike announcing Tango. A cheer went up as the 
band went into 'Hot for Teacher' by Van Halen and Christi 
jumped out of her chair. She found some of her girlfriends 
and began dancing with them. Eric kept an eye on her from 
his chair and watched the group of women roll their hips 
and wave their arms in the air.

More fast songs filled the air and Christi stayed with her 
group. They catcalled to a bunch of guys on the far side of 
the room. The men hit the floor and paired off with the 
girls. Christi danced with a muscular black who kept 
groping her rear end. She wiggled down his body and back up 
with a huge smile.

As the first forty-five minutes ended, Tom called out for a 
slow number and they flowed into 'Beth' by KISS. She came 
over to Eric and pulled him out on the floor. He tugged her 
onto his lap and wheeled back and forth as she moved her 
arms to his neck. Her feet sat on his and she sang softly 
in his ear, letting her fingers creep into his hair. He 
stopped moving the chair and put his arms around her torso.

The song ended and the band took their fifteen-minute 
break. Christi and Eric went back to their table. She 
untied her shirt and dried her face. "I gotta use the can. 
Do you?"

"Not yet," he replied and she got of his lap. His beer was 
warm by now but he nursed it as he waited. A couple of 
girls, about eighteen or twenty, came out of the bathroom 
whispering and pointing to him.

Christi came out and overheard them saying, "Yeah he's cute 
but, Jesus, he's a cripple. Probably can't get it up, if 
you know what I mean." 

She leaned into their faces and said, "He gets it up just 
fine, if you know what *I* mean." She patted her tummy 
suggesting she was pregnant. The girls stood there shocked 
and Christi made her way back to him.

He moved his head close to hers. "You are mean. I can't 
believe you did that."

"They deserved it." She plunked down and swallowed a drink. 
"Ahh, nothing like the taste of flat, warm beer."

His eyes stared at her as she brought the bottle to her 
mouth and wrapped her lips around the opening. He said the 
first thing that popped in his brain. "Am I going to get 
lucky tonight?" He meant it jokingly but her answer stopped 
him cold.

"Yes."

"Oh," he squeaked out.

"Do you want to stay, or leave?"

"Leave." She led the way to the side door and he rolled 
along behind like a pull toy. They got to her Camaro and he 
got in. She threw his chair in her trunk and they peeled 
out of the lot. They drove in silence for a while until 
Eric found his voice. "Uh, your place or mine?"

"What about your nurse?"

"I'll give her the night off. And the next couple nights as 
well." He grinned salaciously and felt the car speed up, 
eating the miles to his place. They screeched to a stop in 
the driveway and quickly got him in his wheels. Sheila 
opened the door and stuttered as Eric told her to get out. 
"Don't worry, I have some business to take care of. Call me 
in a couple of days." He slammed the door in her face and 
left her standing befuddled outside.

Christi crawled onto his lap and started touching him all 
over as he wheeled them up to his bedroom. He shut the door 
and she got up. "Tell what to do, Eric." She knelt down at 
his feet and removed his shoes and socks.

"I have to get on the bed. Pull the blanket off." She did 
and watched him hoist himself on the mattress. "Christi, 
I...I don't know if anything's going to work. It happened 
when I was thirteen and I never got the chance...The 
doctors say I'm fine but he doesn't listen to me very 
well." He weakly patted his fly.

"So you're a virgin. Big deal. And as for this guy," her 
palm cupped his fly and squeezed a little. "I'm sure he'll 
come around to my way of thinking."

"Oh sweet Jesus and all the saints," he said loudly as she 
unzipped his jeans. She slid her hands over his pelvis and 
worked his pants off. His cock lay limply in the nest of 
dark blonde curls. He sat up and jerked his shirt over his 
head. She played nurse, adjusting the pillows under his 
head, then trailed a fingertip down from his jaw to his 
flaccid member.

"Are your ready? Then let's begin," she said huskily. She 
kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks sensuously. 
Her jeans were next and her hips swayed as she peeled the 
denim down her legs. She wore a lacy red thong to match her 
top and Eric could see a few wisps of pubic hair peeking at 
him over the top. She crawled in bed and leaned against the 
oak headboard. "Touch me. I've wanted your hands on me 
since that first email."

He caressed her warm feet and kissed the arches. His hands 
roamed over her satiny bare calves and creamy thighs. They 
were long and brown from the sun and he palmed her ass. It 
was hot and soft and rounded like a heart. She let his face 
nestle against her womanhood as his unshaven jaw tickled 
her thighs. He licked under the edging of her underwear and 
smelled her wetness. He pulled her down, moving his hands 
across her rounded belly to her full breasts. Her nipples 
poked through the ribbed fabric and he breathed hotly on 
each peak. He brought her hand to his mouth and trailed 
kisses over it, working their way to her lips.

She parted her mouth and their tongues tasted and teased 
each other. They explored every nook and cranny in the hot 
depths until Eric broke away. He lifted her leg at the knee 
and placed over his hips. He eased the tube top down, 
freeing her aching breasts and he drew one blushing tip in 
his mouth. He sucked, laved and nipped the hard nubbin, 
then gave the other peak the same treatment. Her lips were 
slightly apart and she rocked her pelvis along his still 
soft cock.

Christi slithered her crotch to his face, removing her top 
and asking him to take off her panties. Eric cupped her 
plump asscheeks and used his teeth, dragging the scrap of 
material over her mound. He got it down to her knees and 
she jerked them off, tossing them on the floor. Seeing her 
naked, Eric noticed that her curves were full, voluptuous, 
not fat but made for a man's hands to hold. He nuzzled her 
pubes and she rolled her hips against his mouth. He gazed 
up into her flushed face and whispered, "I don't know what 
to do. You're my first."

A sensuous smile curved her lips and her body made its way 
down to his cock. She ran her wet tongue along the length 
and sucked the tip between her lips. He prayed to any god 
he could think of: Jesus, Allah, Buddah, Zoroaster, Santa 
Claus: 'please let me achieve and maintain and erection.' 
He stared as his cock disappeared in her mouth and, 
presumably, down her throat. Her head bobbed as she 
swallowed and sucked him from base to tip. She murmured 
deep in her throat encouragement and it worked. His prick 
swelled to semi hardness and her blowjob became better and 
faster as she ate him up. 

One feminine hand played with his balls, kneading them, 
almost pleading his boys to help keep him hard. He was 
putty in her capable hands and she molded his cock to a 
full erection with her hot mouth. Quickly, she reversed her 
position, giving Eric a splendid view of her pussy. The 
outer labia pulled open to show him her swollen maroon 
inner lips. Instinctively, he lapped at her juices and felt 
a hum of delight through his dick. He twirled his tongue 
along the edge of her vagina and saw a thick, milky cream 
ooze out.

He rubbed her cum over her pussy with his fingers, then 
sucked the digits. She tasted bittersweet, much akin to 
chocolate and he moaned. He was about to stick a finger up 
there when she pulled away. She moaned over her shoulder, 
"I think I better get you inside before he drops off." She 
got on her knees and placed his cockhead barely between her 
inner lips. Eric watched as his prick slid up her cunt as 
she sat back. He heard her coo as he sank deeply and fully 
inside that snug pussy.

She bounced happily, riding his shaft like a pogo stick. He 
sat up and leaned against her back. It was slick with sweat 
and he licked the saltiness from her skin. She brought his 
hands to her breasts and showed them how she wanted to be 
felt. He massaged her tits and plucked the hard tips with 
his fingers. He sank his teeth in her shoulder as his pent-
up lust burst forth. He told her how good she felt with her 
tight pussy milking his cock and how her breasts swelled at 
his touch.

"Eric, do you feel it? Deep in you belly? Is your blood hot 
and tingly?" she panted.

"Yeah, oh Christi, what's happening?" he yelled. Something 
enveloped his whole body and his legs cramped. Tears ran 
down his face as he screamed in agony. A blazing inferno 
galloped through his muscles and he held onto Christi for 
dear life. He watched with growing horror as his nails 
bloodied her back, trailing ten gashes over her shoulders 
down to her waist. His lungs seized and he could not 
breathe. He threw her off the bed and lost consciousness.

The slapping on his cheeks annoyed him and he brushed them 
away. Someone was calling his name. "Eric?" An angel, 
perhaps, one who resembled Christi? "Eric, can you hear me? 
It's Christi. Please wake up! I don't want to tell your 
folks how I killed you with sex."

A voice he didn't recognize said, "You'd have to register 
your pussy as a deadly weapon."

"Eric! You're alive!" He got the wind knocked out of him as 
she flung herself on top of his chest. She kissed his face 
everywhere. "Open those gorgeous blue eyes for me, honey."

"Do I have to?" It was the voice from before and it took 
him a moment to realize it was his own, harsher and 
grittier. "What time is it?"

She glanced at the clock. "Four in the morning. You were 
out for six hours." He pried his eyes open to slits. "Are 
you okay?"

"Yeah but don't ask me who the president is. They say it's 
George W. but I don't buy it." Her green eyes were red and 
puffy from crying. He gave her a Mona Lisa smile and 
murmured, "They're green."

Christi grabbed his hair and growled, "You just had some 
sort of epileptic fit and all you can think of is that my 
eyes are green?!" He captured her mouth with his and 
tongued her deeply. She pulled away and chided, "Stop that! 
I want to know what happened to you." She sat back on her 
haunches and gestured wildly. "I'm giving the best head in 
my entire life, on the brink of an orgasm that would 
register 12 on the Richter scale and my boyfriend decides 
that is a good time to go into a grand mal."

"Aw sweetie, I'm sorry for kidding around. Honestly, I have 
no clue as to what came over me. I've had every test 
imaginable performed on me and none of them hinted at 
seizures of any kind." A worried look crossed his face. 
"May be I should go to the hospital."

"Do you want me to take you, or call an ambulance?"

"I've got Doctor Jensen's number here in my address book. 
We'd better call her first." He sat up groggily and ran his 
hand through his hair. "I feel like shit and I gotta take a 
leak." He scooted to the edge of the bed and went into the 
bathroom.

Christi followed him and propped herself against the 
doorjamb. "Eric, have you noticed anything different about 
you?"

"Like what?" he asked sleepily.

"Oh, nothing much. You just got out of bed and walked to 
the can." She sucked in her cheeks and waited for her words 
to sink in.

With a puzzled frown, he looked at his legs and then at the 
wall behind the toilet, repeating it several times. His 
brain was fuzzy but managed to wrap itself around her 
statement. Slowly, he realized he was doing something he 
hadn't done since he was thirteen: pissing standing up. 
"I'm peeing in the toilet." She nodded. "Standing up."

"Hmm-mmm."

"It's a medical fucking miracle."

"A fucking miracle, leave the medical out."

"I better call Doctor Jensen." He tapped himself off and 
went to the phone at his bedside. He dialed her home number 
and waited for an answer. "Doctor Jensen? This is Eric 
Sullivan and I have something to tell you. I can walk. What 
happened?" He flushed and fumbled for the right words. 
"Straight out, I was on a date and I brought her back to my 
house. She was...uh, giving me...uh well, a blowjob and I 
got an erection and we had sex. I had a seizure of some 
kind and passed out for six hours. Cramping in my legs and 
I felt on fire. What was I thinking before the accident?" 
He chuckled and blushed more. "Masturbation. Oh. Yeah, I 
shoulda told you then, but I *was* thirteen and a little 
shy about it. I guess that makes sense in a Twilight Zone 
kinda way. Should I come in later for tests? I can do that. 
One o'clock this afternoon. Just a sec," he put his hand 
over the receiver and looked at Christi.

"Ask her if we can have sex."

"Doc, my girlfriend wants to know if it's okay for me to 
have sex. Okay, I'll tell her. Bye." He hung up the phone.

"What did she say?"

"The long and the short of it is: a mental block. Before 
the accident, I got a peek at my now sister-in-law's 
cleavage and I got a hard on. I was planning to jack off 
when we got home from the movie when it happened. Doctor 
Jensen says my body blocked out my sexual synapses and our 
activity broke through the block."

"That is way fucked up."

"I know but it makes sense. My last thoughts were getting 
off and the shock of the accident sort of blended together 
to freeze my brain. I get to have a CAT scan at one. Yea." 
He twirled a finger in the air.

"You said you could feel my pussy milking your cock. Was 
that true or what?"

"I dunno. I think my instincts took over and the words just 
came out of my mouth." He crooked a finger at her. "C'm 
here." She stepped into his embrace and they French kissed. 
He ran his hands over her back and felt the dried, bloody 
scabs. "I'm sorry about your back."

"Don't worry about it. I'll get my revenge soon enough," 
she smirked and raked her nails down his spine. He shivered 
and picked her up in his arms. "Now what are you plotting?"

"I've always wanted to get laid in the shower," he 
whispered and carried her downstairs that bathroom. The 
second bathroom had a shower/bathtub and was the one Sheila 
used when she stayed the night. He let her stand out of his 
arms and saw her turn on both taps, steaming up the room.

"You got the good kind of soap," Christi said and held out 
a bottle of Dove shower gel. "I really like the shower 
curtain. Winnie the Pooh and Tigger, Too get my blood 
pumping.

"I'll have you know Nicole gave me that for my birthday 
this year. Pooh is her idol."

She offered her hand and said, "I personally like Tigger." 
He took her small hand and let himself get dragged over to 
the tub. "Is it hot enough for you?" Eric didn't miss the 
double entendre. He stepped close to her and his hand ran 
down her body, wiping away the beaded sweat. He bent at the 
knees, his nose tickling her pubes, and tested the water.

"Feels great." He pushed the lever to switch the water over 
to the showerhead and drew the curtain closed. They kissed 
deliberately before stepping into the spray. Christi had 
her back to the water and titled her head to wet her hair, 
the movements of her arms thrusting her breasts out. He 
tweaked both nipples and heard her groan. He picked up the 
shower gel and the matching sponge, squirting the white 
cream all over it. Working up a lather with his hands, he 
ran the plastic sponge from her neck to navel. The bubbles 
clung to her tits as she smiled and moved toward him.

Her hands held her hair up and he lathered the tender flesh 
of her back. He saw her teeth bite her lower lip and he 
apologized for the pain. Her skin was slick as he rubbed 
her ass, slipping a finger between the cleft of her cheeks.
She planted tiny kisses along his breastbone and slung her 
wet hair over her right shoulder. It was her turn to bathe 
him and she squirted a dollop of soap in her palms, 
massaging the liquid to a rich lather. She went straight 
for his cock and worked the suds along the length. Her 
hands soaped his balls and he smiled at the sensation of 
her slick fingers fondling him. "Eric? I'm having second 
thoughts about doing it in the shower. Maybe we better 
stick with a bed for now."

He pouted. "Okay, if I *have* to." They washed each other's 
hair and rinsed off. He drew the curtain aside and snatched 
a couple towels off a nearby rod.

Christi dried her body and began rubbing furiously at her 
long hair. "This going to take forever to dry. I don't 
suppose there's a blow dryer around here?"

"There's one under the sink." He got, held the towel to his 
crotch and opened the cabinets. "Here it is." A small blue 
Conair dangled from his grip. He plugged it in the socket 
and flipped the switch. She let him dry her hair, combing 
out the tangles with her fingers. After ten minutes, she 
was satisfied with the results and traced his mouth with a 
curling lock. The hair brushed its way along his chest to 
his belly.

She looked up at him with a coy smile. "Don't you want to 
play with me?"

He followed her gaze to his soft penis and she moved to 
touch him. He stayed her hand; "Let me." and he stroked his 
cock, using her hair as a barrier between his hand and 
cock. Blood pumped through his veins and filled his prick, 
hardening and lengthening it to about seven inches. He 
grabbed her butt and lifted her against it, stroking his 
hard on along her damp labia. They made their way to the 
nearest bedroom, Sheila's, and he tossed her on the soft 
mattress.

She leaned on an elbow and touched her mound. "Are you 
going to ravish me, Eric?"

"Hmm-mmm," he mumbled as he crawled on top of her. He 
played with her slit, making it wet and ready for him.

"You'll have to pull out and cum on my belly," she told him 
as she tapped his skull. He looked at her with glazed eyes. 
"Eric, cum on my belly. I don't have any protection against 
getting pregnant. Are you hearing me?"

"I hear you. Pull out and cum on your tummy. Got it." He 
parted her thighs and knelt, rubbing the head over her 
pussy. He struggled to remember to breathe as her juices 
drenched his cock and his heart raced. She lifted her knees 
more and Eric sank inside. His body shuddered at the hot, 
tight muscles caressing his prick. "Oh shit," he cried and 
pulled out. His cum shot out of the hole and splattered all 
over the place: her pubes, the sheets, his thigh.

Christi came to his rescue and quickly clamped her mouth 
over the exploding cock. She drank his cum down, sucking on 
his head and pumping her fist over the length. He felt like 
she was sucking the life out of him through his cock and 
kept chanting 'shit'. Her pink tongue lapped up the sticky 
fluid as his flagging dick slipped out of her mouth. "Um, I 
don't think I got out in time," Eric whispered.

She propped her chin in her hand. "Too late now."

He petted her soft hair. "Are you pregnant?"

"I won't know for a few days, silly." She touched his chin 
with a finger. "I think you just need practice. I'll bring 
over some of Tom's porno movies and you can learn from the 
masters." Her eyes narrowed. "Do you hear that?"

He listened and barely heard his name. He scrambled out of 
bed and whispered, "Fuck! It's my mother! Shit!" The voice 
got closer until it was right outside the closed door. He 
grabbed a pillow to cover his nudity and hit the opening 
door.

"Eric, are you in there?" his mother called and forced the 
door a few inches.

He shoved with his butt. "Yeah Mom, but I'm busy at the 
moment."

She pushed back. "Sheila called and said you threw her out 
of the house. What exactly is going on in there, young 
man?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he called and Christi choked on her laughter.

"Is there a girl with you? Sheila said you came home with 
some girl." His mother pushed harder against the door, 
forcing it open even farther.

'Help me' he mouthed to Christi. She jumped out of bed and 
threw her weight on the door. "Is Dad with you?"

"Yes, he's here, but I want to know what's going on!" Eric 
heard his father talking his mom. The weight left and the 
two relaxed.

"Eric, it's your father. What's going on?"

Eric motioned for Christi to back off and he opened the 
door a crack. He peeked through the opening and said, "I 
brought my girlfriend home, *hint*, *hint*." His dad's eyes 
widened as the implication came through.

"Are you standing up?"

"Uh-huh. It's a long story. Can you distract Mom so we can 
get dressed?" His dad nodded and left them alone. Eric 
locked the door and turned to Christi. "I have no idea how 
to tell them."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Just say, 'Mom, Dad, this 
Christi Parks.'"

He hit her with his pillow. "That's not what I meant and 
you know it."

"Tell them that the stimulation of the evening caused a 
cure. You're dad knows what we were doing and he can figure 
out a way to tell your mom. Or better yet, let the doctor 
give a long explanation filled with medical jargon."

He laughed. "Mom's a bit thick-skulled. You have to be 
blunt for her to understand." He looked around the room. 
"We need to put some clothes on. Sheila's bathrobe is 
hanging on the back of the door. You can put that on and 
I'll just wrap a blanket around myself."

She went to get the robe, put it on and giggled at Eric. He 
wore a red and white checkered throw like a Scottish 
highlander. "All hail, Caesar!"

He grimaced at her. "Ha-ha, you're such a riot." They held 
hands as Eric led her out the door to find his folks. Mom 
and Dad were in the living room sitting in separate chairs. 
Christi headed for the couch with Eric in tow. She drew her 
legs up under herself and looked at Eric beside her. "As 
you guys can see, I'm walking again."

Mom piped up. "That's wonderful! How did it happen?"

"This is Christi Parks. She's my girlfriend and we came 
home from a dance tonight. Uh, I got stimulated from our 
kisses and my legs started working." He left out a lot of 
what really happened but he just couldn't tell his mom 
Christi's magic pussy lifted his paralysis. His dad rolled 
his eyes.

"Well, hi there, Christi. What do you do for a living?"

"I edit manuscripts for Tower Publishing."

"You must have such fun reading all those stories."

"Not really, Mrs. Sullivan. I work with navigational charts 
mostly. They're pretty dry reading."

"I love Nora Roberts myself." Christi nodded with a plastic 
smile on her face.

Dad saved her. "Have you talked to Doctor Jensen about this 
development?"

"Yeah. I phoned her a while ago and she's got me scheduled 
for a CAT scan later today at one. I'll probably have to 
stay a few days for more tests. Yuck."

He stood up and told his son, "Eric, we're going to go home 
now. You get some sleep and give us a call if you need a 
ride."

Eric relaxed. "I will. I think I'll get a ride from Christi 
though." He walked his parents to the door and said 
goodbye. He came back to the living room and dropped next 
to her. "Thank god that's over with. I thought Mom would 
grill you more than she did."

She yawned and stretched her arms above her head. "Me too. 
Man, I'm beat. Can I crash with you?"

"I was planning on waking up with my arms holding you." 
They brushed lips and stumbled their way to his second 
floor bedroom. They snuggled up under the covers and he 
held her to him, front against front. He tucked his left 
arm under the pillows and caressed one of her full 
asscheeks in his right hand. In turn, she threw a leg over 
his hip and nuzzled her face in the hollow of his throat. 
They drifted to sleep that way.

-------

{Poster's postscript: If you liked this story, there are 
two more episodes detailing the lives of Eric and Christi: 
"Fledgling" and "Learning to Fly"; they should be available 
at the same time as this story. There's also a custom 
around here to send a 'thank-you' email to the author if 
you like a story. Sadly, Dancer is offline, but you may 
send your compliments to the address given on the "From:" 
line - I'll pass your kudos on to her.}