Sexual Healing

Summer was reaching its end when all of my three current wishes turned into reality.

I had just made my way home one night and I was in the kichen, with two kafo braces and a walker , fixing myself a healthy chicken caesar salad and working on a slow gait, sliding both my legs at the same time. Just to check if I liked it. (not so much actually, too swift...) when I heard a car entering my alleyway.
I made my way to the entrance door just too see Connor transfering from his car too a small sport wheelchair. My heart skipped a beat. He was the epitome of sexiness, in a nice tailored suit, looking very smart. His shoulders looked strong and his arms powerful while his feet seemed dead and weak in his shiny italian shoes. He strapped his thighs to the chair and rolled towards me, slightly slouched in his seat as if he was paralysed somewhere just under his chest.

- "I hope I'm not interrupting anything", he said, while speechless I moved on the side to let him in. "I was just in an interview for a position as a tax lawyer in a law firm nearby, and I was wondering if you'd be rude enough too leave this poor crippled wannabe lawyer drive interstate by night after such a stressful day. "
- "I guess there's salad for two and... room for two in my bed." I ventured, wondering if he had been to his interview in a chair, and... well, he really looked paralysed...
- "That's a done deal then ! May I have a tour of the house ?" he asked cheerfully

Without waiting for an answer he rolled around the house, quickly first then slowly so I could follow, and then he reached the sofa in the living room and looking at me playfully, he transfer and took off his shoes. I stood there watching, almost panting... then he slid his dead legs onto the sofa, slowly, one by one, his feet dangling and even having small spasms and looked at me again.

- Care to remove your kafo and join the weak-legged club ?

My turn then ? I sat on a chair to remove my braces and put them on the side and then I let myself slowly slid from my seat and crawl to him on my right side pulling with my arms, mostly the right, my left hand curld, and pulling as I could with my right leg. I could hear him breath heavier than before looking at me. I reached the sofa and climbed slowly. He help me up and we kissed, finally.

We had sex here and there, before we even knew it. my panties were removed, I feverishly took his trousers down his dead ankles and I climbed over him. It was quick and his upper body was as muscular as I remembered.

The trip to the bathroom for a quick clean up before dinner was tender and rather new for me. He slid back in his wheelchair and helped me on his lap and we rolled there, slowly.

____

- So how was the interview ? I said after a sip of wine and a bite of chicken. I was using a glove with an embedded fork on my curled and stiff left hand to eat, a gift from my lovely neighbor that I found interesting to try out for the first time in front of Connor.

- It went very well actually, I must expect them to call me tomorrow to tell me if I have the job. The place is lovely, the position comes with quite a few advantages, and well, I quite like the city and some of its inhabitants.
- I really can't see who, I smiled.
We'd been communicating daily on skype and via mail for the last few weeks and while he'd been silent about this job opportunity, we'd been sharing a lot about each other and liking every bit of it.
-"Tell me, did you go in a wheelchair ?"
- "As a matter of fact, yes I did. I left it in the car but I came with a knee brace and said I busted my knees while playing squash. They don't have a problem with disability anyway, their office is fully accessible. I guess that if I have the job my poor knee will never fully heal..."
- "What a shame." I smiled. "I really hope for the sake of your knee and for the quietness of my daily life that you don't get the job."
-"Oh talking about pretending in the work place, how is your real disabled boss doing ?"

I smiled. I had been very honest about my crush on Emma, and he was very excited about it, even though I made it clear that if something happened between me and her, he wouldn't be a guest at the party.

Still the odd lady was sparking interest in him. Something about her worsening hemiplegia.
Lately her right side had been acting up even more, she couldn't keep her head straight with a minerva, her left shoulder was dropping and she was wearing a back brace. Her right-hand was curled and she could not lift it anymore and her foot was beginning to point inward. She was now coming only partime at work, dealing with most of her work from home, and in the presence of a day-care assistant. Surgery was scheduled by the end of September, and I couldn't say if she was fearing it or expecting it. A bit of both maybe. Her speech was slightly impared by now and at some point during one of our one on one meeting, she had started drooling a bit.
I used my left hand to wipe the drool at the corner of her lips, the one that seems to be getting weaker at work, even though I still use it for easy movements and don't wear a strap of a brace to  support it. She kissed it. I stood up slowly from my chair and raised, helping myself on the table. Dragging my left leg,I made my way to her wheelchair and kissed her lips. again. Again the heat and again her weak hand trying to make its way to my chest. I had to put it there this time, and I rubbed it against my hardening nipple.

It was a week before Connor's suprise visit and since then we had a one on one meeting early every morning in her closed office.  No word exchanged, just a painfully nice foreplay, that couldn't go further, because so far, kissing her dead hand, carressing her weak foot and feeling her clumsy fingers pinching my nipples were the best we would master without dying of pleasure.

Maybe one day, something more would happen. Or maybe she'd get fixed and I'd be the one whose hand she'll take to have it travel all over her slender body.

In the meantine, Connor was looking at me, amused.

"So, by the way. I went to see Adam after the interview, he'll drop by on friday evening and bring a DonJoy IROM Brace.  Do you have underarm crutches ? Because ou will have ACL surgery on friday evening, maybe call off your monday for good measure, and then well... If you really had ACL, you'd be able to move your knee in a passive motion machine thingie a few hours a day, but in your case I'm afraid it will be two weeks straight in a locked knee brace, and considering how weak your ankle is, you can't bear any weight on that leg for a while. There's no way to say if your knee is ever gonna recover from this lovely 3 weeks treatment. But you'll avoid the dreaded fullleg cast. And I'll help you with your shower."

I took a very long sip from my glass of wine.

One step beyond

The wonderful trip with Abigail and Adam, if needed be, had proven me once again that I was not making a mistake by "improving" my disability. I needed to go further and rather quickly.
The aim was no more to fake but to make sure that with time I would be truly disabled. This option seemed the right one and, after all, my body was already following this path.

I made a try on the morning following my return, I tried to step out of my bed without any help. My left ankle failed me. My knee flinched too. It had begun. I grabbed my walker and made my way to my special storage place. The one with the KAFO braces. I took out the left one. Placed it. I also put an ankle brace on my right leg. With some reluctance though. There was one thing I wanted to try before losing power in my right leg. Although I needed to wait for the next trip with Adam and Abigail.

I removed the right brace and decided that I would rather work at amplifiying the weaknesss in my left leg.

There was a number of way.

Injections of some sorts, Adam had mentionned it, but I was rather reluctant to the idea. Too risky, and I love feeling my legs, I want them weak, not insensitive.

Breaking it. That'd be violent, and dangerous. And I wasn't that desperate to risk scarring and pain.

Not using it at all for a long time. This would require either a wheelchair or a non-weight bearing long-leg cast or both. The idea wasn't the most pleasing, but by far the most doable. I would speak to Abigail about the possibility. In the meantime, I needed to get ready for work.

Maybe Emma would be back.

After my small sexual escapade during the weekend, my heated encounter with her seemed like an unlikely dream. But still I was curious to see how she would react to a KAFO brace and my now almost constant use of two forearm crutches.

And I was curious about her own state. Hoping that she was not hurting anymore of course, but still somehow hoping to see her limp at work, in her strict skirt and reasonnable shoes, with a pair of slick aluminium crutches.


I was not to be disappointed.

Emma was back, though not the way was expecting her to be. The buzz of her electric wheelchair in the hall was to become a familiar sound in the office. And her slim figure strapped stiff in it, with her back brace popping out of her blouse, maintaining her chin up, was going to be a common sight.

Her sprained ankles had healed, but she couldn't start physical therapy yet. She really had what seemed  like a slipped disc and the doctors were adamant that she shouldn't walk or move her back and neck until they had devised a way to surgically fix her. But since she was feeling fine, she didn't see why she should stay at home. I couldn't agree more and I couldn't stop looking at her. At how she was doing her best to remain as still as possible and avoid moving. She didn't really need straps to sit in her wheelchair, but she still had one large one under her breasts and one over her legs.

Our first encounter was a tad awkard. Seeing her helpless in a chair, yet so straight and seemingly at ease made me feel very warm and fuzzy.

She congratulated me on my tan and my dress, I enquired politely about her health, and couldn't help looking at her left hand, resting on the chair commands. Emma is right-handed.  Her right hand was on her lap, wrist bent and fingers curled.

- My right arm has been acting up since the accident, she said, following my eyes. Doctors think it's because of my back. Some kind of semi-paralysis.

- I'm sure they'll fix this, I said nicely. All the while hoping they wouldn't, because all I wanted at the moment was to feel this thin, pale and weak hand travelling slowly on my breasts.

I do not know how insincere I sounded, but Emma smiled softly and redirected the conversation toward professional topics. We had two weeks worth of files to go through and she was counting on me to help for the rest of the day.

I came back home exhausted, and in need of sex like I never had been before. I'd never thought to be so aroused by a woman. While seeing a female in a wheelchair was interesting because it was reflecting a state that I wished to attain, being aroused by Emma was something else altogether.

Nothing had happened, not a single word went beyond purely professional conversation, but the sexual tension was there. We simply didn't know what to do with it. After all, she was a broken doll in a wheelchair, and my hands where always on the handles of my crutches.

I needed to have her over at my house. Soon. I wanted to have her over at my house before any surgery, or any cure for her ailment, and I wanted to make love to her in her wheelchair. How ?  Not a clue. But i'd find out.

Connor had managed with me in a brace. I could do it again.

Connor.

An e-mail from him had just popped up. I slid into my sofa, eased my left leg onto it, then my right. Grabbed my computer and opened the message entitled "The bar exam."

A Trip to Wonderland - Part 3

The afternoon was spent in a general state of bliss.

First we made our way to the swimming pool at the back of the hotel. Adam settled Abigail under an umbrella with a fresh drink (with a straw of course) and went for a swim. I slowly and carefully sat down on a transat. It was awkward because I couldn't use my left arm and my back couldn't bend at all, but I finally managed without ending up on the floor.
It was odd, basking in the sun, feeling all my limbs stiffened by the carbon and metal of the braces.

- So, what about that nice waiter ?  Are you planning on inviting him in your room tonight ?
- To be honest, I had never thought about having sex when I came here. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my story straight. What if I... move too much ?
Abigail laughed slowly.
- Believe me, once you get in the mood, you just behave accordingly. 
- Are you going to have sex with Adam tonight ?
- Certainly. In very slow motion.

I tried not to picture it. The fake pregnant belly was disturbing me. She saw my pout.

- I don't like it much either you know, I'd rather think I've put up on weight because I was so active before the accident. Even though it was easier when I was only 5 months pregnant. But that's Adam's thing. I wonder what turns Trevor on. The way your cleavage is enhanced by the back brace ?
- If I ever find out, I'll let you know. Maybe he just want to play a prank on me and have a laugh later at how he stood up a crippled thirty-something fat chick ? 
- You have no faith in humanity, darling.
I sighted. I was getting mixed feeling about this adventure now. Connor was cute, he was tall, had a slender body and seemed strong and powerful, he had that general relaxed yet classy appareance and sweet bubbly brown eyes. He had a deep voiceand didn't seem stupid, but to be sure I would have to...
Oh the hell with it, I had the afternoon left to think of a smart way to reply to his invitation.

**

When Adam was done with the swimming pool he changed up and we dropped by the bedroom, I got back into the wheelchair and got rid of my leg braces. We were going to the village down the road. It was my first real trip out in a state that would soon be permanent and for a while Connor and Emma were obliterated from my thoughts. It was all about me.

Of course, Abigail attracted most of the attention, her alanguished body, her enormous belly with those two wrapped stumps popping out under it. Adam dotting on her was sight too, and certainly made some female passers-by jealous. I was tagging along, generaly enjoying every bump in the road and the littlest struggles. Once again I couldn't help notice how I was really losing control over my left leg, particularly the ankle. My foot was regularly turning at an odd angle and each time I had to manually put it back correctly. The third time I gave up, I simply thightened the strap over my thighs so my leg wouldn't slip more.
I made a mental not to try something I hadn't tried in month. Walk without any assistive device. I might be in for a surprise.

Before long it was time to go back to the hotel, Abigail was getting rather tired and the back of her wheelchair was filled with shopping bags full of farm grown delicacies and natural products.

It was decided that we would have dinner in our own rooms. Adam and Abigail certainly wanted some intimacy, and I needed to decide what to do with my potential date.

I started with the minibar. (those small bottles are hell to open with one valid hand only) and finally got to my phone.

"I'll put up a do not disturb sign on my door at 9pm. Room 653. Feel free to ignore it. Jodie"

I the ordered an assortment of club sandwiches for my dinner and took off my arm brace, my clothes and my back brace. I rolled to the bathroom and transfered in the shower... It felt like heaven. The back brace had been more straining than I had thought.

**

At 9,  I was sitting back in my wheelchair with only my back brace and a lacy night dress. My bare feet were resting on the foot pads, limp and useless, my left ankle bent in a rather awkard way. My left arm was simply in a sling and a single strap under my breasts was keeping me safe in my chair.

At 9.05 a slight knock took me out of my semi-dreamy, semi-anxious state, I slowly rolled to the door and cracked it opened.

Connor had changed from his waiter attire to a pair of worn out jeans and a rather slim fit t-shirt showing a slim yet muscular upper body. He had a single rose in his hand and a devastating smile.

I was lost for words, but he made up for it.

"You're..."

Well, he tried...

"So are you. " I answered, taking the rose with my valid hand and putting it on my laps. I rolled slowly back near the bed. He closed the door and followed me. There was no need for words after all. He took the rose and nonchalantely dropped it on the bedside table and, kneeling on front of me, his hands traveled back on my legs. He stroke them, the knees, then the calves and he finally took my left foot. I shivered.

- Can you feel ?
- Very well.
- Good, I wouldn't want you to get bored, he smiled and he started kissing my left ankle.

I was breathless when he lifted my dress up and when his hands and lips started going up. I was still strapped to my wheelchair and I couldn't even bend my head to look at him. My valid hand looked for his dark wavy hair and I caressed them. His lips travelled to my thighs and he started slowly parting my legs. And brutally, he stopped and stood up, quite red in the face.

- I'm sorry, I didn't even ask you if you wanted to go in bed. I can help you in.
- You actually did not even ask me if I wanted to...
- I'm sorry.
- ... Kiss your lips first... I finished with a smile. Don't worry, We both want the same thing.
He smile and bent down to me, I felt his warm lips against mine and his fingers traveled on my breasts, traveling under the sling. He released the strap holding me to my chair.
- Can you stand alone, he murmured or shall I lift you to the bed ?
- Simply help me transfer, I breathed, surprised myself at the erotic dimension of having a helper for such a simple action.

I placed the wheelchair the best I could and he moved my legs on the bed. He bent down and I put my valid arm around his neck. In a swift move I was on the bed, sitting against the pillow, and his lips again where all over me.
I managed a few seconds to get rid of my sling and the way my hand was curled seemed to excite him a lot. I started stroking his chest with it, sliding it under the T-shirt. He took it off with a moan.
Managing a buttoned jean with only one hand was hard, but I managed and seing how he was getting excited, I started stroking slowly his fully blown dick with my left hand. As awkwardly as I could.
The back brace in this case was both a bother and a real turn on. I was stuck in a very stiff position, unable to see exactly was I was doing and with very little movement. Totally dependant on Connor's actions. I was on top of me, naked now, and enjoying my hand job while his own  hands where unlacing my cleavage and travelling along the front of my brace. He had expert fingers.
Soon he slowly parted from me to put a condom on and came back. He asked me if I was confortable and parted my legs.

The sensation of him going inside me drove me insane, for a second I felt like moving along with him, but the back brace prevented me from doing it, so I layed there, eyed closed, carressing him when I could. Everytime my left hand would touch him I could hear him breath louder, faster. I'm not sure how long it lasted but I came twice.  In a way I had never came before.
And finally he came too, and laid for a while at my side. I couln't turn my head but I could feel his stare. And he kissed my cheek and got up to the bathroom.

And off he goes I thought bitterly.

But I was wrong.

He came back and asked me if I wanted to freshen up a bit.
- Before the second round, he smiled.
I agreed and asked for my crutches.
- Don't you need your braces ?
- I can deal with few steps without them.
He helped me secure the straps on my forearms and help me up. It was a lot harder than I had tought. My left ankle was really gone and I finally ended up dragging my foot behind.
I felt his stare all the way to the bathroom, it was pleasant. And on the way back, I could see him getting harder at each of my clumsy steps.

He barely let me time to unstrap my crutches.

**

I woke up to an empty bed. I was lying on my back, legs slightly propped up on a pillow, my arm secured again in the sling, exactly the way Connor had put me before lying next to me. We'd fallen asleep after hours of sex and some small talk.

After a little effort I managed to turn on my side and found Connor. He was only wearing his jeans and was sitting in my wheelchair, deep in his thoughts.
Actually he was not only sitting. He was using the wheelchair, like a paraplegic. He looked like he had no control over his lower body,  slightly slouching, his toes pointed inward.
I could easily picture him in a manual wheechair. Sex would be even more different if he was also a paraplegic. I found the idea worth toying with.

- Oh you're awake. He said. I ordered breakfast in 20 minutes. I hope you don't mind ? 
- Not if you help me out. Breakfast in bed with only one arm is not he easiest thing.
- Oh sure. He smiled.
- Can you fetch my crutches ? I smiled, Apparently, you need my wheelchair more than me.

Connor looked pensive again.
- I know your girlfriend is faking her condition.  It's quite obvious when you look closely. What about you ? I'm on the fence. If you do, you're good.

I took the info in. He had known. Like Abigaïl. Or was it that all pretenders could somehow sniff each other out ? Because obviously, Connor had his own BIID issues.

- Well, I fake so well that it's becoming real. If we meet again in a few months, I may not be able to stand alone unassisted.

- I hope we'll meet again before that. He sighed. I felt aroused again looking at him, all limp in the chair. Quite unexpected.  If disabled women were somehow a turn on, I'd never given a second tought about a guy in a wheelchair.

He left the chair when room service rang, we had breakfast and he left at nine. Not without the promise of keeping in touch.

What a night.

I joined Abigail and  in the lobby  at 10. We went for a last stroll in the hotel park. Adam seemed elated. Abigail tired. I was deep in my thoughts, happy to be in the wheelchair, because at the moment, I'd rather be reminiscing about my night than concentrating on each small step.

The trip back home was quiet. We stopped by Adam's store to get back to our normal disabilities, and when he dropped me in front of my accessible house, with my tripod cane and my small suitcase, I knew for sure what I wanted.

There was no place for doubt anymore, my future was made of braces, wheelchairs and wonderful sex.

A Trip to Wonderland - Part 2

As we were driving to our destination, Adam in the front of the car, humming happily out of tune with some cheesy song playing on the radio, Abigail explained me that the state I was witnessing her in was not her fantasy. It was Adam's. They had a deal and would oblige each other fantasy alternatively.

The last 8 months had been spent setting up quite a complicated scenario in a particular hotel. They had come the first time as a couple celebrating the recovery of the wife after a terrible accident. She had lost both her legs, one arm and broken her back ,leaving her a quadriplegic.
The first time she came with Adam, she was still wearing a halo and a heavy back brace.

The second time, three months later she was free from the halo brace but was still wearing a back brace. And they were happy to announce that they were pregnant to the staff of the hotel, who remembered them from the previous time and was quite caring.

The third time, at the fifth month of her fake pregnancy had been marvellous, free from her back brace and showing a small belly, and now able to direct her wheelchair on her own. They had been sightseeing around and Adam seemed the happiest man on earth.

This time was the last, with a heavily 8-months pregnant Abigail, resting in her big wheelchair like a precious and fragile vessel. She was to look tired but blooming and happy. And happy she was indeed. While she was not too fond of being constantly wheelchair bound, she confessed that her physical appearance in that state was a real pleasure. The effect of the various straps and braces, enhancing her curves was striking. Her generally limp appearance contrasting with the rigid line of the wheelchair, it pleased her. Also, she loved having Adam move her limbs for her, and generally care for her wellbeing. The fake prothesis was a real gift for her too, it was numbing the feelings in her hand, and she really loved using it to touch things, and her own body, the feeling (or rather the lack of it), she said, was exhilarating.

At that point I was quite envious actually. I also wondered how realistic her fake pregnant belly was.
She promised me she'll show it to me as it was quite a work of art, imitating the feel of real skin and even matching her skin tone. In the meantime she offered me to touch it. Once again, the lack of feeling for her, as well as on her fake breasts was a real turn-on. I was on her left, so my only free limbs my right arm was able to reach her, even though at an awkward angle since I couldn't turn my upper body, stuck in a brace and secured by a strap on my wheelchair. So, looking in front of me, blindly I fumbled until I found her belly, it was round and soft, but not so soft that it felt like she had simply stuffed a pillow under her dress. Realistically soft. She sighed, and I could not help to try and feel her breasts, reminiscing about my steamy encounter with Emma.

- Hey, Jodie, Abigail's my wife!  Hands off! laughed Adam in the front. Apparently he'd been keeping an eye on his precious load through the rearview mirror.

- I'm sure you'll find someone to play with at the hotel, he added.
I doubted that. Who'd want to chat up a girl so encaged in braces that she couln't even tie her own shoes ?
My valid hand landed back on my laps and, Abigail changed the turn of the conversation.
- Did you think of a backstory ? The staff over there is quiet but curious, you may have to make small talk.
- Not much actually, I thought I'd just talk about a bad fall because of my current condition. An unsteady gait and a fall in the stairs at work. And I'm on my way to a full recovery, except for my left leg of course. The weak one.
- That's simple and perfectly believable agreed Abigail. I can't wait to see you with the gutter arm-rest crutches.

I smiled. I couldn't wait either.

A couple of hours later, we stopped in front of a large white hotel, lost in the green scenery of the neighbouring state. The chance to meet someone we knew here was slim I thought as I drove my way out of the car to enter the spacious lobby. The clerk at the entrance greeted us, congratulated Abigail on her impressive bump and we were quickly channeled to our rooms.
Manoeuvering the electric wheelchair was a surprisingly pleasant experience, my chin was kept up, because of the brace, my legs encased in the KAFO braces were somethimes shaking, but would remain stiff, and my left arm was secured in a sling. I only felt alive and able in my right arm and the power chair was slowly becoming a part of me. Once in my room, the groom settled my luggage as I directed him, and I went to grab my purse to tip him. I almost got aroused when securing my wallet against my limp left hand to scoure for a couple of bills. Not able to bend my head was making it even more difficult. It felt utterly right.

The groom left and I was left to my own devices. We had been driving for a few hours and it had been decided that we would reunite in the lobby and head to the hotel restaurant at 1pm. I had 30 minutes left to freshen up.
I rolled toward the bathroom, and started to wonder how I would manage the toilets. After all I wasn't supposed to be paralysed, simply weakened. So a proper transfer was not in order, I would stand. Weakly.
I grabed my legs, one by one and carefully with my valid hand and settled them on the ground before grabbing a nearby handle in the well-equiped bathroom to help myself up. Luckily, there was still some strength in my right leg. Recently, I've noticed how really weakened my left leg is becoming, and I felt it again. Had the hinges of the KAFO brace not locked I would have fallen down.
The two steps to the toilets were slow, unsteady and fantastic. The wheelchair had been nice alright, but I felt it was time to give a try to the gutter-armrest crutches. Freshening up took me 10 minutes instead of 2.  And it took me ten minutes more to arrange the crutches. But it was worth the hassle. As I rested heavily on them, dragging my stiffened legs one after another, looking straight ahead of me, I felt good. Each slow, almost painful step felt like a victory. Each harder hip movement to put my left leg in front of the other, each missed attempt to stabilize my left foot and lean a bit on it was a delight, and I could feel how the KAFO brace was indeed getting really useful for my left leg.

This fantasy was becoming very real, and I loved every bit of it.

Getting to the elevator in the long straight corridor was great, a couple passed me, I smiled at them, they smiled back and greeted me. I did not feel like an impostor, I was myself, that the exact way I wanted to be. It almost got me too emotionnal to walk, but by the time I reached the lobby, I was simply feeling good.

Adam and Abigail were waiting for me. Adam was lovingly stroking Abigail's belly. He had redone her hair and she was looking striking.

They both congratulated me on my gait, rather surprised to see that I was already mastering so well the crutches and we made our slow way to the restaurant.

The meal was delicious, and our waiter was the most gentle person ever. He even offered to cut my meat when he saw me struggling with my weakened and stiffened left arm. After all, he said, my girlfriend had a gentleman who was feeding her, it was unfair to leave me unattended.

I politely declined, even though it would have been tempting to be cared for by such a hot young man,  and he almost seemed hurt. Adam winked at me.
- He's got a thing for you, you should ask for his number!
- Right. Sure, I'll do that, I mumbled.

I've never been so lucky with guys, they always seem nice at the beginning, and then the hidden flaws were showing up. There was no point hurting myself by trying to hook up for a one night stand with a healthy young man, while encased in fiber and metal contraptions that would guarantee at least as much action for him as shagging a wooden plank. He was certainly nice just for the tips.

I had to reconsider at the end of the meal, when he came to help me stand up. There was something in his touch. And something more in the piece of paper he slipped in my valid hand.
"My shift ends at 8pm, call me, I'll come. Connor. " and his number.

That was unexpected.