One Way to Graduate

He caught his mind wandering, and he just refocused on how Nora's skin felt, how it tasted, as he pulled her damp handkerchief bib down and off... exposing her chest above the v-neck cut of her shirt -- pretending he hadn't already seen more than he should have in her fits -- and ran his lips over her collarbone, as far as he could follow until the padded shoulder bars blocked his advances.

Nora could hardly handle this overwhelming sensation, her body pulling and shaking within the tight clearances allowed by her rolling cage. This kind of care and devotion to every inch of her exposed skin was revolutionary to a young woman who knew 'care' to mean something much less passionate.

Now if only she could expose more for him, herself...

That tense, agonizing feeling below was only growing now, and Nora couldn't help but worry. There were so many roadblocks between here and there! She didn't even know what 'there' even was for a girl like her! Did Ethan? Would he back out once he saw her tube again? Or her diaper?!

"Ethan."

At the odd incantation of his name, he pulled himself off of the vulnerable girl in front of him, and glanced at the door as a first instinct. He always locked it to keep some privacy and now he hoped nobody would come asking about Nora, only to see the host's older brother making out with a girl who could not move at all on her own. He caught himself. That probably wasn't the issue, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I do not want my first kiss to be my last. Please. Try again."

Nora tried to close her hanging mouth and some twitches registered on her lips, her head shaking, the warm bedside light flickering in her wire-rimmed glasses.

Ethan obliged her, cradling her cheeks again and firmly closing her jaw, but he didn't close all the way this time, leaving space... space he invaded with his tongue when his lips met hers, full and twitching and uncoordinated in their hunger for more. Her chin was slippery -- Ethan had forgotten to wipe her face -- but he could feel Nora pushing toward him, if nothing else.

It was strange; kissing a girl who could not embrace him, or feel him up. But with both arms strapped down, Nora was all his, and that anxious energy emanating from the inevitable knock on his door actually urged him on; urged his tongue deeper to flick at hers while it could. Exploring her for the first time, it was more than a little exciting to kiss this beautiful, helpless girl properly.

Ethan still felt guilty about how Nora's disability excited him, but then it crystallized: he enjoyed her. The two of them got along far better than any of his dates in the past year, better than anyone in his life, that was already clear from just talking tonight. He enjoyed Nora, and she lived in this body. It was all one package.

His body was as close to hers as it could be and Ethan could feel his cock harden on the hard metal he was leaning across, as he deepened the kiss. He needed to get her in his bed, now.

Luckily, Nora was thinking the same thing, desperately.

Chapter 9

He hummed something deeply into her mouth, satisfied, before separating himself, his cheeks almost as flushed as hers. "...you're a pretty good kisser, y'know?" he confided from a steamy inch away. A polite exaggeration, sure, but he was still trying to catch his breath. Ethan couldn't deny that he had enjoyed that.

A giggle escaped her as a choking shake, but a clear smile pulled at her lips and squinted her eyes.

Nora doubted it, but had no doubts about the connection forming between them. Trying to reach his lips again, Nora lifted her head and it merely drooped forward, making another wet mess down her chin and chest that Ethan had to wipe away with the soft bib he had torn from her neck earlier, now more careful to fold it into a small square and keep it close by. She could only sadly laugh to herself as his hands cupped under her ears like he had before... and instead rested her head back. Oh, she would never ever be smooth.

He was hovering though, and that was silencing her.

"Aaahhhhngggggk," Nora moaned, rolling her eyes over and over until he caught her meaning: 'Please, if you're not going to kiss me, get out of the way.'

"Sorry." she typed first, once she could see her tablet. "I wish you could be right here and I could whisper like they do in movies."

Ethan just shook his head. "Why are you sorry? I was the one blocking your eye-line."

She gave him a 'what a gentleman' glance and kept typing, eyes moving a mile a minute while he stroked her arm idly. Taking a second to enjoy his touch, Nora wondered if maybe she could be smooth, for once...

"Speaking of which," her prepared folder of segues came to the rescue, "you should mount my tablet at a good angle when you move me to your bed."

Nora's cheeky forwardness right then made Ethan double-take, then look at her screen to read the textbox for himself, lighting him up with the biggest oh-no-she-didn't grin! For the record, Nora was still terrible at being smug or cool, her body twisting in her clumsy silent laugh, her giggle bubbling over in gasps.

"Oh yeah? When I move you into my bed?" Ethan teased, looking behind himself at his queen mattress, a simple sturdy Ikea thing, and privately thanked himself for cleaning up for his failed date the night before.

"Only if you want. Handsy. I thought you were going to show me things." Nora was bright red now, not even knowing what 'things' she was necessarily implying. She almost didn't hit send, silently begging someone to turn this screen off and shut her up! What was she saying? What was she making this poor midwestern girl say?

But Ethan did know what she was implying, and even wholly caught off guard by her cheeky request, he was thankful she had broached the subject, still nervous about what she could and couldn't do, or how far they could go.

"Ok, princess. How do we get you out of all this?"

Nora led Ethan through it all, wishing her mom had pre-written a script for this... before she recoiled from that thought: her mom should have nothing to do with the words she was saying right now. First, her table tray had to come off, but her wrists were currently tethered to a D-ring in the middle -- one braced and one not -- so he needed to detach her from that first.

Watching for any sudden moves, Ethan freed Nora's left hand from the plastic and felt bracing like he had her right, but luckily this one didn't reach out to punch him in the face. Letting go of her wrist, Nora's left arm instead slowly tensed up toward her and pressed her useless hand into her modest chest. It pressed in and rolled reflexively, mashing her boob underneath with a weak but persistent force. Nora blushed. Left unbound for too long, sure it could get painful -- that's why she slept with her wrists tethered away from her, too -- but in her current mood the pressure was... nice. Ethan found himself staring at the spastic girl touching herself awkwardly for a second, but her other arm spasmed, waved, and slammed down on the plexi tabletop loudly, startling the poor boy and leaving Nora gasping in silent laughter. Even with a wince from her unprotected hand's impact, that was priceless, and Ethan knew full well he had been caught staring.

"Uhh, I was just wondering if I should stop you from-- stop it from doing that." he mumbled with his tail between his legs.

Nora smiled inside, while typing, "No. Leave it. I like it." and then returned Ethan's stare in playful defiance while her athetotic fist idly massaged her breast in front of him. For the first time in her life, Nora wasn't embarrassed by her left hand's ideas. His secret glances and dumbstruck stares were cute -- and hungry -- making it all worth it.

That left the wild one, her right arm. Wristcuff still fastened, she instructed Ethan to pull the soft tether out from the tray top, bend her arm in half, take the strap like a leash and wrap it under her armpit and around the front and velcro tight to itself. Now folded like a bird's wing -- with great effort -- writhing harmlessly like its sister, Nora typed again, "Now just make sure I do not punch myself." It was rare but very possible -- with her tightly curled fist up by her shoulder and face -- and why Nora's mom and caretakers used this simple tie as a temporary solution when transferring her in or out of her chair, or at the community center pool over in Olympia. This arm was the real animal.

"What about your legs?" Ethan asked while he began fiddling with the different connections of her table tray. It seemed obviously made to be disassembled with almost no effort, Ethan thought, eventually sliding the tray off the armrests and setting it aside. "Are they going to kick me too?" he wondered aloud.

It was only when his eyes fell on her empty lap that Ethan realized how unnecessary his concern had been. With the tray gone, bib too, he finally had a good glimpse of Nora's eighteen-year-old body, unlike any other. She was probably shorter than his sister if he could have stood her up straight, and just as thin. She wasn't sitting so much as cradled by her chair. Her chest thrust forward as her hips ground into the seat in the latest great idea her body had for drawing his eye. Other than a periodical squeezing around a padded section dividing her knees, and a persistent squirming that seemed to get her nowhere, Nora's thighs looked too thin to put up that kind of fight, two wide-set twigs wrapped tightly in some black leggings with a strange bulge by her hips.

Nora looked down for 'no, they won't' and typed four words that were even harder to say than asking to get in his bed. "Pull up my shirt."

Ethan did as commanded... and found quite a surprise -- a couple, actually.

He had of course known the tube he had given Nora meds through must go somewhere, and yet the white plastic cap punctuating the soft expanse of bare skin still caught him off-guard, the clear tube definitely going inside. What was far more confusing and unsettling was the other side of her belly, almost hidden by the high waist of her leggings, equidistant from her belly button, the skin raised by something big, round, and flat... and obviously underneath.

When he wiped whatever expression he had off his face and looked up, Nora was already typing.

"I know it is gross..."

Ethan wanted to say it wasn't, but her words didn't pause long enough for him to lie.

"...but it is really important. On my right there is my G-tube. It is how I eat everything. Everything. I have the real word programmed in here but it is a mouthful." Nora wished she could paint a smirk on her drooling lip; the digital voice did always say 'gastrostomy' wrong, but it made a decent joke for her at least. "The big bump is an implant that gives me anti-spasticity medication right in my spine. Side-effect is my legs are thinner, but it is better this way."

Nora's eyes followed his back downward, before she asked him...

"If you are going to move me out of my wheelchair. I need you to promise me. Ethan."

He focused, caught off guard by the weird pronunciation of his name again. "Anything, what is it?"

Nora wished she didn't have to say this, it was so awkward. She warned him it would take a long time to type, and then began, "I trust you. But. I need you to know that out of my wheelchair I cannot do anything. If we do things together. You will need to move me. And help me talk. And..." she hated typing this so much, "...clean me afterward. Dress me. And make it look like this never happened. Do you understand what I am asking?"

He stopped and truly looked at her, holding her right hand away from her face, then just holding it. "You're saying that if I can't take care of you, I should stop here..."

With a sour turn in her tummy, Nora glanced up for 'yes'.

He slipped his fingers into her angry fist to steady it. "Do you think I can handle it?"

With a smile flitting between confident, nervous, excited; Nora again glanced up for 'yes'.

Ethan nodded. "I promise I'll take care of you, Nora. Don't be scared."

To be honest, the impromptu carer wasn't as turned off as Nora thought he was. Neck deep already, no matter how things looked, Ethan was game. Part of him knew this. Part of him, a sliver still apprehensive, wanted to stop. Another part couldn't stop watching her weak fist grope her own boob while her innocent eyes were so hopeful he would help her get closer to him, so obviously and earnestly hoping he wouldn't be scared of her.

The last part of him just got on with it. "Is there anything else I should do?"

Eyes darting about, she explained how to turn off the pump he had triggered earlier, pinch the tube and detach it, before he could close the cap.

She watched his hands hesitate, before assuredly detaching her feeding tube like he had done it a hundred times before. A little caught off-guard, she tried to pick up the pace, but her eyes could only type so fast!

"I am in a posture system for my hips." she explained, as sitting all day with spasms had the painful habit of dislocating hips and twisting spines over time. She needed it, but she sure as hell didn't need it right now. "Just undo everything down there."

Ethan could do that much for sure. He followed her slim legs down to little loops keeping Nora's knobby knees hugging the bolster between, unfastening and removing the cumbersome foam separator. It seemed he would be doing the separating himself, sooner rather than later. Refocusing, he found two big bulky pads on her shins, apparently keeping her from slipping down the seat, which he unfastened with a knob in the middle and stashed by the discarded tray top and other pieces. Lastly, two tight velcro straps around her ankles, keeping her slightly-twisting feet in their resting points with her shoe soles down on the footrest; those were slipped free as well.

Her angry arm waved, elbow out, pacified by the simple bondage, as Nora's body sat nearly free in front of his crouching stance, twisting clumsily every so often yet never truly stopping. It felt like she was putting on a show for him, but he knew that wasn't right -- wasn't correct nor even okay to think, and yet the endless twisting and bucking and squirming had him firmly at attention.

Ethan did notice the way Nora's spasms and motions gradually quieted as he followed her curves downward, the implant giving her some noticeable respite below the waist, but they still weren't motionless. Now, with nothing holding them in place, Nora's legs gradually ventured away from their rigidly-set positions, her foot kicking out a bit, resulting in nothing but a gentle nudge as he kneeled before the disabled girl in her throne, looking down her nose at him.

"Uuuuhhhhhng," she almost whimpered, her head shaking side-to-side of its own volition. She had no words, none at all. With only her two shoulder bars keeping her back against the seat, Nora had never been this naked or vulnerable with anyone who wasn't related to her or paid to be there -- and naked was a relative term, with all her clothes still on...

He started to fix that, untying her shoe and slipping it off to find... another brace, this one hugging her foot, ankle, and shin, before slipping off the other shoe, and finding the same. Her little curled toes poked out of the thin white plastic and Ethan wondered just how Nora lived in this soft prison. Her feet looked off... entirely unused to bearing weight, and Ethan was reminded again that he was undressing the most helpless, cute, disabled, innocent, eager, unique woman he had ever had a chance with.

To Nora, the boy kneeling in front of her looked so trepidatious and hesitant... until he didn't. Suddenly that clinical, caring facade broke again like the snap of latex gloves coming off, and his hands had returned to something more passionate and intense and instinctual; abandoning his task of unwrapping her from the many parts and pieces of her orthotic shell, running up her atrophied thighs from branch to root, his thumbs grazing the empty void between and stopping before touching anything too naughty -- avoiding the puffy something-or-other in her leggings which blocked the terminus of her thigh gap. His touch tickled her in some new way that didn't make her laugh but groan, much too loud, "UuuuhhhHHNG!"

Ethan shushed her with an anxious glance at the door and laughed sweetly, amused by how a simple stroke on her inner thigh sent her body back to fits, relaxed and assured by how plainly she was enjoying this. He was too. This was interesting. Different.

Biggest understatement of all time.

Nora noticed him getting close to her groin, though. She couldn't stomach the idea of telling him about her diaper yet. Even if he had promised, even if he could see the bulky absorbent pad under her leggings by now, even if he had taken everything so far in stride; she couldn't bring herself to speak of it, so she diverted as quickly as she could.

"Please help. This hand. I need a break. Put a pillow or something underneath." Nora said, adding what she hoped were 'pretty please' eyes.

Standing high over her again, Ethan mustered his courage and slowly slipped his hand between her slim fist and her boob, protecting it from the repetitive kneading, imposing his own grip on her. To his delight, this was simpler. Nora's breast was that of any girl; it was warm, soft, and felt amazing under his touch, the lace bralette merely a texture beneath her shirt, no padding to get in his way: as if she could be any more vulnerable...

"Does this work?" he asked breathily into her ear. Nora tried to feign surprise or indignance but it wasn't worth the effort, instead melting at the smirk in his voice. Nora blushed at how well her baiting had worked, and how quickly he saw right through it. She barely held back a moan as her spastic, folded hand pressed on his, tightly; almost under the illusion she was holding him there, imploring Ethan to grope her harder.

"That is pretty good," she let her tablet say as she squealed happily; terrible at being coy.

"Oh yeah? Pretty good? I can do one better."

Nora looked down at how the thin green shirt hugged her slightly-misshapen torso, its deep v-neck cut open and offering her chest to him, the part of her body she was most proud of. She glanced just in time to watch his hand retreat... no, don't leave... only to slip into the cut and under her bra effortlessly, so firm and strong as it cupped her better than any underwear could. Nora couldn't believe this was happening! This boy had just skipped past everything she was ready for. He was so sure of himself. He was so warm. This feeling was incredible, unmatched in any way.

But looking downward -- moving her neck -- had angered her body, overreaching however much will she was allotted, and Nora whined as her stupid, damaged motor cortex pushed her face away from him again, firm against the far side of her headrest, even going so far as to take full command so Nora could only stare at the cheap popcorn ceiling for several endless seconds. Ethan paused only briefly, before he dipped into her vulnerability and caressed her neck with his mouth as she lay there with zero control, sending a flash through her chest and between her legs, a desire Nora knew she had never touched upon before, even in her lonely writhings in bed, imagination doing its very best. Now she knew for sure: her imagination had no fuck-ing clue.

This moment, this impenetrable incapacitation, even worse than usual -- though definitely not as bad as the storm earlier -- while he continued to explore her body so confidently, while she couldn't say 'no' or 'stop' if she tried: Why was this, of all things, making her so tingly and tense deep in her belly; in her private place? Nora had spent so many years fighting her body, hating how every chance for normalcy passed her by due to that same feeling of being trapped and useless, hating how people touched her and moved her without her say, well-aware how much she needed them to... Why did she get so excited by him slipping his hand somewhere he shouldn't before he even asked, when countless carers had done the same, leaving nothing but a feeling she was a passenger in her own life?