Teddy’s hot cock ball dash slap up ended abruptly. Bam! Hit on the back of the head with an 8 inch adjustable wrench right in the cervical curve. Teddy’s body went stiff suddenly and spasmed and stiffened again. Cum spurted from his penis like scuzzy water angel pee from a Roman fountain. His hand still clutched his shaft and face bore the same rictus of pleasure and pain of orgasm when the cops from Precinct 90 arrived ten minutes later. Detective Teyrone nearly slipped on a pool of cum. “Nasty,” he muttered. Swani, the head mechanic at Metropolitan Body Shop, readily admitted his deed most foul with a shrug, “That’s what you get for jerking off at work.” No one ever told Reyda, who had been planning a trip up to coastal Maine, the reason her 1993 Ford Tempo wouldn’t be ready for the weekend. They carted Theodore Talassian—Male, Age: 34, Caucasian—to Woodhull, paralyzed from neck down.
Teddy’s cock had been hard for going on four months, February and March were spent at Woodhull and spring was spent at the Farragut Houses in his cousin’s spare bedroom. From the front hall, the squawk of 1010 WINS tickertaped his mind to bulletin breakdown. The weather never changed; traffic was always snarled at ten past the hour. The squawk of the radio was only driven deeper into his mind by the ululations of the songbird—a finch? A tit-mouse? An avis more rara perhaps?—that Tamara had bought from a Chinaman down the way. For the first month he despaired. For the second, he despaired. This might be hell, he thought. Obviously he would have tucked his dick back into his overalls if he could do it all over again and never have jerked off at work. Despair had run out by the third month and just a week ago, The Sea Inside had popped up on his Netflix cue and he had watched it. Soon thereafter the Netflix algorhythm had suggested The Diving Bell and The Butterfly, which he had liked as well. And so, it was that he lay mulling over what now to do with his life. He looked up; he always looked up; he could only look up at the ceiling but thought of his penis. Then it occurred to him. With a happy heart, a hard cock and a yad-like pointer which allowed Teddy to type his thoughts into a keyboard and surf the web as well, that the young(ish) quadriplegic posted the following ad under Casual Encounters on Craigslist:
Throw Out Ur Sybian! Try the Real Thing. Hot Young(ish) Quadriplegic With Hard Cock Looking To Be Ur Sex Machine.
Rachel was the first one to email to Teddy. She was a journalist. “Check out my twitter!” she opened. “OMG!” “Woah!” Teddy thought, “Ballsy” and then he thought, “Trouble” and finally he settled on, “Why not?” It was a Saturday she came over, in the sun-dappled afternoon and she brought with her a man-sized mirror with a dick-sized hole in it around whose edges were covered in chamoise. Teddy said, “Hullo.” Rachel said, “Hey!” and placed the mirror on top of him, gently, as to not chafe the sides of his dick since she hadn’t been sure what size exactly hole to ask to be bored into it at Crest. [“How big?” said the bald man behind the counter. “Um, dick sized?” Rachel said.] Rachel undressed to match Teddy. Her skin was cliffs-of-Dover white and perpetually moist. Her nose protruded beak-like from an otherwise mild homely face. Her smoky eyes were thanks to Cover Girl; Her cupid’s bow lips thanks to Shiseido but no make up could hide the avian rapacity with which she eyed Teddy’ hard cock poking through the mirror. She wasn’t fat nor was she skinny but she was generous. Her breasts weren’t perky but nor did they droop. They were soft yet firm enough. The fat of her thighs had not yet faltered to dimply cellulite. The general impression was of a Renaissance painting come to life, made only a bit squatter by the transition from canvas to Manhattan. Her cunt was a lovely pink and reminded Teddy of houses he had seen in Portofino. She had—like a Moslem—shaved completely and her labia were gently fluttering in anticipation. Her hands, Teddy noted, were unusually small with fingers that came almost to points.
Before Teddy could finish his thought, he felt the mirror press down on him. Rachel had mounted the mirror, supporting her weight partially on her haunches and placing Teddy’s penis at her pussy’s estuary. For Teddy all was blackness then, as Rachel lowered herself onto him, warmth. Rachel’s Rachel-like reflection with a big black dick, fucked her. Rachel kissed her own lips, saying with feeling, “Fuck me. Fuck me good, you fucking slut. Fuck! Frick! Fug! Fela! Pussy-cock together!” She ground her hips ‘gainst the mirror’s surface, leaving love guck on the mirror where Teddy’s dick was buried inside. Teddy grunted. He thought it might feel good what was happening but wasn’t completely sure he could feel it. His pleasure seemed immaterial to Rachel who ground and ground to a higher rhythm as if praying to a higher being, and in a paroxysm of obsenity and pussy juice, spent. Rachel looked downup at Rachel and a long drop of saliva floated up from her reflection and met its partner coming down.
Submitted by male writer/musician, Manhattan.