He watched the couple moan as they fucked like they were being paid, probably because they were. Porn couldn't quite scratch his 'itch' but it was the closest he could get without masturbating. It's not easy to jerk off if you can't move a single muscle below the neck, but a backed up hose threatens to explode and he'd do anything he could for relief.
Donovan was a quadriplegic and had been for most of his life. Being unable to move his limbs, he missed out on a lot of his childhood. No bikes, no sleepovers, no climbing trees. It hurt if he dwelled on it, but he was mostly unfazed. There were always other activities. Instead of bikes, he had books. Instead of climbing trees, he fell back on movies. No, it wasn't childhood that haunted him: it was puberty. Teenage adolescence hit him like a truck-a feeling he knew from experience- and was the most miserable period of his life. Hormones began flowing and an intense desire of women drove him to the brink of insanity. For years, he'd never had relief. It was all he could do to hide his plight. How do you go about telling your nurses that you want to jerk off?
Through the miracles of technology, he could use his phone without his hands. With a stylus in the mouth, he could operate in silence, watching his guilty pleasures until he felt some measure of comfort. 23 year old Donovan would take anything that could help him through a sexual draught drier than the Sahara. He wasn't bad looking, by any means. His limbs hadn't atrophied and he still maintained a healthy figure through discipline and restraint. His dark brunette curls and blue eyes were enough to drive any girl crazy, but the chair was the one hurdle nobody had yet to jump over.
May walked in, ripping him from his thoughts as he closed his tab as quick as he could. She didn't notice. It wasn't the first time. He was some sort of disabled ninja when it came to protecting his hidden desires. May does her routine for the third time this shift and checks Donovan's vital signs on a mini portable pulse oximiter.
"You feeling okay?" she asks.
"Of course I am," he lied through his teeth, "Why?"
"Your pulse is really high."
"Freak thing, I guess. Not the first time it's been wonky," he lied again.
May didn't seem convinced, but without an explanation, she had to accept his answer. She jots her notes and gets the Hoyer lift out. Lift meant bedtime. He hated the lack of control his disability gave him and yearned to express his dominant side. It wasn't in the cards for someone like him, but he could dream.
May gets him into bed and goes through her next routine to get him ready for bed. He sits through it, limp and emotionless. Just another night. Just another routine. He just wanted to escape to his dreams where maybe he could get some lucid action. Not that he would remember come morning.
"You feeling pretty happy there, Don?" May asks, breaking the silence.
"What?"
Wordlessly, she motions towards his lower half. Creening his neck as best as he could, he looked down to where she pointed. There, in its full glory, was a raging boner. Those happened without his control, but its timing was a hell of a coincidence.
"So this is why your heart rate was so high. Heart was busy supporting this little guy."
He cringed at the word little, but he had to admit that having May talking about his erection was a turn on. No female experience coupled with a nurse fantasy, he couldn't resist the flush in his face as his body reacted in ways he'd not felt before except in only the worst cases of sexual frustration.
"Never had this happen to me yet. You controlling this, Don?"
"N-no," he choked out, using the truth this time.
"You know I can't really deal with this, right? You think it will go down in a bit?"
