I've met this wonderful and talented devotee-related writer, Ruth Madison, and she's written a short story that, though not really like my typical posts here, is a really good story, very well written, and I'm sure some of my fans will enjoy it greatly! she has a couple novels published too, so make sure you check her out!
- Cathy
Hi! I'm Ruth Madison and ParaCathy has kindly agreed to let me share one of my short stories with you! I'm on the flip side of devness and so I write stories about physically disabled men. I know that's not the target audience here, but I thought maybe you all would enjoy something a little different. If you like it, I hope you'll visit my website www.ruthmadison.com/current-fiction for more information on my writing. Thanks! I hope you enjoy...
The Player
by Ruth Madison
I have a terrible weakness for redneck country boys in wheelchairs. They look so tough and in control, like they can handle anything. They are totally cool with their hunting and off-roading. I am not their type. I look it at first, but that's only because I worked hard to hide my geeky past. In my heart, I still am, and it always comes out. So in theory I'm looking for a nice, quiet, geeky guy in a wheelchair, but in practice if the bad boys find me, I can't seem to refuse them anything.
That's how it was with Max.
I found him on a dating site for disabled people. I'd had an account there for a few months, gone on a couple of forgettable dates. No one in the entire state of California seemed remotely appealing. So, just for curiosity, I widened my search and saw a picture of the hottest man I had ever seen in my life. In Michigan.
I didn't think I had a chance with him, but I tend to forget what I look like. I still remember myself as slightly pudgy with glasses and a unibrow. In college I discovered tweezers and my body subtly reshaped itself into a stunning hourglass. I could get just about any man I met just by wearing a tight t-shirt. I had silky black hair that reached to the bottom of my butt and warm Hispanic skin. None of that changed the fact that I played computer games every night and steamed through 500 page fantasy novels on the weekends. But Max didn't know that, he only saw the exotically beautiful woman in the profile picture.
When he called I was pleasantly surprised by his voice. His accent was a gentle mid-western drawl. He told me about his nieces and nephews, how he hoped to get married and have a family some day. He told me about his hobby refurnishing old wood furniture and his job at a local bank. For a girl caught in the superficial world of Los Angeles, it sounded hopelessly Norman Rockwell.
Every picture he sent was sexier than the last. Him holding up a huge fish he had just caught, him with a lopsided grin leaning forward over his paralyzed legs on the porch of a house, him at some kind of race car event, holding a beer, with barely-dressed girls on either side. I could almost cum from just looking at them.
For some reason, after that first phone call he didn't ever want to talk on the phone again. It was always instant messaging and webcam with him. He sent me texts at all hours telling me to get online and I found it impossible to say no to him. He would turn on the webcam from his laptop while he got ready for work in the morning and even brought it into the bathroom where I could watch him shower.
You know, you could call, I would type.
Nah, this is better. Why don't you show me a little something?
I have no defense, no explanation for why I did what he told me. When he asked me to, I took off my shirt and my bra, rubbed my large breasts together on the webcam. I didn't think about how this behavior was at odds with his original phone call describing his desire for a wife and a family.
5:00 a.m. and I had a text from him. I'm in the shower, get up. I wanted to ignore him, but he was too beautiful.
When are you coming to see me? he typed.
Oh, I don't know about that...
You know you want to :)
Damn, he was right. Why did he have so much power over me? I felt like I would do almost anything to touch him in real life, to fuck that amazing body. Besides, this couldn't be a real relationship until we met, it would have to happen at some point. I was still thinking he was husband
material, don't ask me why.
I picked a weekend and bought a plane ticket. It was the first time I had ever bought something big like that without telling my parents. I also wouldn't tell them I was going anywhere at all. I planned to tell only my coworkers where I was, so that someone would know where to look in case I vanished.
Max friended me on Facebook and I poured over his profile looking for more clues about his life and trying to imagine myself as part of it. There were so many photos. Some from his sister's wedding (him in a suit, yummy), at the reception with his three year old niece on his lap (oh my God, swoon), hanging out on a beach with his body stretched out on a towel and his empty wheelchair behind him. He looked very young in that picture, all lean and lanky. There was a girl too. She looked plain, but pretty and had a kind face. She was in several of the pictures, but she wasn't his sister. I had a terrible curiosity and I wanted to figure out how the pieces of his life went together, so I asked him about her, but he wouldn't say who she was.
The next week I was hanging out with friends and telling them about my plans to go and meet a handsome new man. I had never met anyone off the Internet before and they were concerned, but I brushed off their fears. “You have to take a look at this guy,” I said. I pulled over one friend's laptop and logged onto Facebook, but I couldn't find Max. “This is weird,” I said. It was like he no longer existed. My friends assured me it was okay, but I felt humiliated.
Did you block me on Facebook? I typed the next time I saw him on IM
Yeah, I did.
And you weren't going to say anything? What for?
I wanted to punish you for being jealous.
Oh. I thought how weird it was to punish me and not tell me. Wouldn't it make more sense to talk about it? To tell me that he thought I was being jealous? How was I supposed to know?
Should I cancel my plans to see you?
No
Don't ask me why, but I didn't. It was a strange thing for him to do, but I thought we could smooth it all out in person. That was until two weeks before the planned trip, when I was greeted with an unpleasant IM.
I'm not going to be dating for a while. I seem to have gotten someone pregnant.
The bottom dropped out of my world. My stomach felt like it was plummeting. Feel like telling me who she is? Someone new? An ex? Who?
No.
After what I've shown you, I feel like I deserve to know.
Silence.
Well then, good luck to you I guess, I typed and logged off.
I had a plane ticket bought and paid for on a proofreader's salary. My coworkers said I could probably get it changed to visit my parents. It hit me in the gut that he had talked me into this, that he didn't offer to pay, that he didn't care that he had left me with this ticket on my credit card.
Six months later I was startled by another IM from Max. For a second I couldn't remember whose screen name it was.
Hey.
Hey, aren't you a dad by now?
That's over, she miscarried. So, if you still want to come out...
I finally snapped out of it. Like a fever breaking, he didn't have the power over me anymore. I knew I would never meet him and that it was best for me that I not.
I don't think so.
It didn't occur to me until years later that the reason he didn't ever want to talk on the phone was that with instant messaging, he could have a whole bunch of girls hooked up to his webcam feed at once. He could have been saying dirty things to any number of others while talking to me.
Life went on. I dated a number of different people. I tried out able-bodied men (talk about awkward! So not worth it). I moved several times and finally settled down in Pennsylvania.
Plenty of bad boy rednecks there, but still hard to find the paralyzed ones. I got a dog and pulled together a little life. I accepted that I might never fall in love or have a lasting relationship, all I could do was hope that there was a God who cared about my love life.
One day I was out shopping with no makeup on and my long hair in a boring braid. I rounded the corner and stopped short at the sight of a young man in a sexy wheelchair. I knew that profile. I knew the shape of that body. It was him. It was Max. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. I suddenly felt weak in the knees. I had only ever seen this man through a computer screen, I almost didn't believe he actually existed. Here he was, though, in my world.
Just my luck, he was even more gorgeous in person. Chiseled jaw and dark brown curls.
“Excuse me, Max?”
“Yeah?” he said with total disinterest, not taking his eyes from the shelf.
“I'm sure you don't remember me. I'm Rosie. I know you from the Internet.”
That got his attention. His startling blue eyes leaped up to meet mine and his cocky grin appeared.
I leaned over behind him, put my hands on his rock-hard shoulders, and took in his deep, musky scent. I put my lips right against his ear, knowing how my breath would tickle and whispered, “All I want is a one night stand.”
He turned his head to me, still grinning. “Let's get out of here.”
Back at his place we didn't even get the lights on before I was on him. The door had barely closed as I pushed his legs together and got mine on either side, my knees against his hips on one side and pressed against his wheels on the other.
Suddenly he was inside me, sliding in easily. I rocked my hips against him, one hand on the back of the chair and moaned in pleasure. The other hand was flung behind me like I was riding a
mechanical bull.
When I came it felt like sand being sucked forcefully back into the ocean with a retreating wave. I fell against him, limp, the sweat on my cheek melting with the sweat on his neck.
“I'm like fucking in love with you,” he said.
I felt warmth spread through me until I realized what a great line it was. “Son of a bitch, you're good.”
“You don't believe me?”
I laughed. “Of course I don't believe you!”
I don't know why I could finally see him and appreciate him exactly as he was. I could enjoy him for sex and forget the rest. Perhaps it was just age and maturity. I could see how silly it was that I ever thought this man was relationship material.
We kept meeting up and I think the regular sex kept me relaxed and cheerful, so I was ready when I finally did meet a cute quad guy in the sci-fi section of the Barnes and Noble and ditched Max for good.
