Play Ball

By ParaGirl

 

            Chris had always had two dreams in his life.  The first - to play baseball in the majors - was nearly coming true.  He was a hot prospect in the minor leagues, and with another season of polish, maybe two, he was sure to get a contract in the big leagues, he could feel it.  This was the dream he had focused on since high school, what he had worked for through college; to be a ball player.

            It was pure chance that put him on the track to his second dream.  This dream was a more hidden dream, a dream he sometimes didn't even admit to having, even though he knew he really couldn't deny it. Then, one hot July day, everything changed.

            Chris was playing right field when he saw her.  He sometimes scanned the wheelchair seating sections, just in case, and seldom saw anyone besides old men in Yankees caps or military uniforms sitting there.  This game, though, he was startled to see a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, sitting there with a somewhat older woman.  Chris didn't want to stare, and he had to keep his mind on the game, but as he snuck little glimpses at her, her large power wheelchair was as unmistakable as her long red hair. 

            The teams switched sides, and Chris strained to see her better from the dugout, but his view was obstructed - he could only see the older woman, and a small slice of the wheelchair.  He could have moved to get a better look, but he didn't want to be obvious - he just sat there, waiting.  He was far enough back in the batting order that he probably wouldn't have an at-bat this inning, but he kept hoping, trying to catch a better glimpse of her.

            Chris was right, and the sides retired two hitters before him, but at least he was back out on the field, and was once again able to catch glimpses at her.  As he was walking out to right field, he kept the brim of his hat low, to shade his eyes, and was able to look right at her without being obvious.  His heart skipped a beat - he wasn't completely sure, but it looked as if this woman had no legs!  He had to stop himself from staring more obviously as he took his place on the field, but he kept sneaking little glimpses, trying to see her better.  He saw that she was smiling, and talking animatedly with the older woman with her.

            The perfect opportunity presented itself during this inning, and Chris took it.  It was a high pop fly out to right field, and Chris hot-dogged it, catching it a mere twenty feet from fence and firing it out to second, making the double out.  This put him in a position very close to the girl - no more than twenty feet away, and without thinking, he turned to the crowd and took a deep, theatrical bow.  The crowd went wild, loving the gesture they assumed was for them, but Chris was staring right at her, the girl in the wheelchair.  To his delight and amazement, she waved a shiny chrome hook at him and smiled - winked, even.  Chris took his place back on the field, but his heart was pounding, thudding in his chest.  It was difficult for him to keep his mind on the game, but he managed it and his team won, 9-14.

            She was there for every home game they played from that game on, and after only a few weeks, Chris was dreading every away game, counting on every home game.  Over the course of a dozen games, Chris had managed a number of good looks at the girl; she was incredibly beautiful, her long red hair was full and lush with natural waves.  Her body - what there was of it - was trim, toned.  And then there was..... 

            Chris didn't have any idea what had happened to her, but she was obviously very disabled.  Her legs ended mere inches below her hips, forming short, round stumps.  Her arms were both gone, replaced by full-length prosthetic arms.  It was with these plastic and metal contraptions that he had seen her driver her wheelchair, eat a hotdog, and even clap the time he made a home run.  He was totally fascinated, enchanted with this girl, and was trying to figure out how he could ever find a way to meet her that didn't seem contrived.  The fates often smile on young love, it seems; four games before the playoffs, the perfect opportunity presented itself, quite by accident.

            Chris's team was down by four, and it was the sixth inning.  Chris was in his usual right field position when a high pop fly headed right for him - and right over him, sailing into the stands.  He heard a yell, and saw her with both her hooks held over her head in a panicked warding gesture.  He flew over the fence, making his way to her, making sure she was all right.  Several other people in the vicinity also changed in, so it didn't look like anything more than a gesture of concern.  She hadn't been hit, fortunately; the ball had bounced right in front of her wheelchair, and had landed behind her.  Chris made sure everyone was OK, then he picked up the ball - nobody really scrambled for balls in the minors - and took it back to the dugout, where he signed it and set it aside. Then he waited for the game to end.

            Thanks to some great hitting by his team, and some errors on the part of the other team, Chris's team won the game by 2 points.  After the game, while everyone rushed out onto the field in celebration, Chris walked quietly over to the wheelchair seats.  He said hello to the woman, as well as the older woman with her, and handed her the signed baseball. "You almost caught it." he said with a smile, feeling foolish, and the girl took the ball between her chrome hooks and smiled at him warmly.  He turned and began to walk away when he heard her say 'Thank you, Chris'.  He turned.

            "You know my name?" he asked, trying not to seem so amazed.

            "You wrote it on the ball." she said with a giggle.  Yes, the signed baseball.  How could he be so dumb?

            "Right, the baseball.  Well then, is there anything else you want to know about me?  I could write it on the ball, too." He said, trying to play it off as his witty sense of humor.

            "How about your phone number?" she asked, looking him in the eye.  She was serious.  He took the ball back and was about to write his number on it when he thought of something.

            "So, who should I make this out to?" he asked.  She smiled.

            "Brittany." she said.  He wrote on the ball 'To Brittany - give me a call some time.  555-1211' and handed it back to her, amazed at how adept she was with her metal hooks.  He got back to the celebration before anyone noticed him gone. 

           

            It was two days of jumping for the phone every time it wrang, but finally Chris heard the words he was longing for.  'Hi, is Chris there?  Its Brittany." come from the receiver.

            She got the awkward stuff out of the way right up front, which Chris was grateful for.

            "I am a quadruple amputee." she said, with such ease it was as if she was talking about her hair color.  "I lost my legs in a car accident, and my arms to a later blood infection caused by the accident.  It happened when I was twelve, and if you say you're sorry, or how awful it is for me, I will hang up."

            "Ok then." Chris said, biting back the phrase 'I'm sorry to hear that, how awful it must have been'.  "So, how did you like the game?" he said instead.

            "Well, the left fielder has more errors than everyone else on the team combined this season, the third baseman is in a coma, and I think I throw better than your relief catcher.  You were lucky the other team made so many errors the other day, or you would have lost."

            "OK then." Chris said. "Just give me a minute to recover from being kicked so hard, and I'll be fine."

            "Well, it's not all bad." she said.

            "You mean there's hope?" Chris said with a chuckle.

            "Sure - the right fielder has great hands." she said softly.

            "Oh does he now?" Chris replied.

            They talked for over two hours, and Chris thought it might have been the best conversation he had ever had with a woman.  And it wasn't just her disabilities, either - sure, he could picture her, in her wheelchair, holding the phone to her ear with a silver hook, but it was more than that.  They connected so well; it was like they had known each other for years.  Finally, Chris took a leap of faith and asked her out to dinner.

            "It's about time.” she said, and he could practically see her smile.  "If you didn't ask me soon, I was going to ask you."

            It was settled then - dinner that Friday night, at a nice restaurant that Brittany chose herself.  As Chris hung up the phone, it was like he was floating on air.  All he could do was count the hours until Friday night.

           

            Chris showed up at Brittany's house fifteen minutes early and rang the bell.  He was dressed in a nice gray suit, and carried a small bunch of flowers - corny, but he thought it would be OK.  The older woman from the park - Brittany's mother, Chris had learned during his phone conversation - greeted him warmly and let him in.  She told him Brittany would be right out. 

            The house was nice - all one level, for Brittany - but warm and inviting.  In fact, aside from the positioning of a few pieces of furniture, he could hardly tell a woman confined to a large power wheelchair even lived there.  He heard the whirr of the electric chair behind him, but he didn’t' turn until he heard her voice.

            "Hi Chris." she said, wheeling up to him.  He turned and nearly dropped the flowers.  She was wearing a burgundy dress that set off her red hair.  It was short-sleeved, and Chris could see almost every inch of her prosthetic arms.  The dress cascaded down softly over her short leg stumps, and she had a small purse in her lap. 

            "You look beautiful." Chris said, meaning every syllable of it.

            "Thank you." She said, and Chris thought he saw her actually blush.  "Are you going to give me those, or are we going to sit here and watch them wilt?" she then said, pointing to the flowers with her silver hook.

            "Oh, yeah - sorry.  For you." Chris said, handing them to her.  He watched her manipulate her arm, opening the hook and grasping the flowers.  It was the first time he had seen it up close, and it fascinated him.  He must have been too obvious, because Brittany commented on it.

            "They make great backscratchers, too..." she said as she maneuvered her wheelchair towards the kitchen.

            "I- I'm sorry." Chris said. Brittany stopped and turned her wheelchair.  She looked around, making sure her mother wasn't in earshot.

            "Chris, I'm a big girl, and I'm not stupid.  You are a handsome - some would say gorgeous - baseball player, about two steps from the big time.  You could have any woman in that stadium you wanted, and probably have - but I've been watching you since I started going to games, and you don't even notice any other women there - and there are a lot of them that have a lot more to offer than I do.  I know you're interested in me, and I know why - and if I wasn't OK with it, I wouldn't have called.  Let's go to dinner, and then maybe your place - OK?"

            Chris was speechless, and simply watched Brittany wheel her chair into the kitchen and lay the flowers on the counter.  She deftly lifted a set of keys from the counter with her right hook, dropping them into her abbreviated lap.  She wheeled to the front door and tossed a sideways glance at Chris.  "We'll take my car - you drive." She said, wheeling out the door.

            Chris followed Brittany to a nice mini-van in the driveway.  She asked Chris to open the side door and told him how to lower the lift.  She drove her wheelchair onto the lift and Chris hit the switch to ease her into the van.  She parked her wheelchair in the back of the van and told Chris how to secure her in.  After she was locked in, Chris got in the drivers seat and pulled out of the driveway, heading to the restaurant.

            "You don't drive?" Chris asked Brittany, looking at her in the rearview.  She really was beautiful.

            "I can - with special controls - but it's kind of a pain.  I prefer the chauffer treatment, anyway." she replied playfully. 

            They arrived at the restaurant and Chris almost forgot to park in the handicapped slot - Brittany had to remind him.  He parked and unlocked her wheelchair, then lowered her out of the van.  The restaurant was very fancy, and they got a lot of looks as Brittany wheeled in.  They were seated at an out of the way table, and one of the chairs was removed.  Brittany unlocked the clutch on her wheelchair and let Chris push her in close tot he table.

            "Do you need any-" Chris started to say.

            "Help?" Brittany interrupted.  "I might need some - I'll let you know, OK?  And thanks for asking, it's sweet."

            "OK" Chris said.

            "Let me ask you something Chris." Brittany said unexpectedly

            "Sure, anything." Chris said, more relaxed.

            "How long have you liked amputees?"

            "How long I - I'm not sure what -" Chris stammered, caught unaware.

            "Yes you do.  I know it.  Stop pretending you aren't interested in these - " she held up her hooks " - and this will go a lot better."

            "Yes, well, um." Chris just couldn't get the words out. "It's true - that is what attracted me to you initially - but only initially.  I know there is a lot more to you than just -"

            "Four perky stumps." Brittany answered for him.

            "Yes, well, I don't think I would have put it that way, but yes." Chris replied.  He could feel his face burning red.  He was glad it was dark.

            "It's OK - it's what I was hoping for, Chris." Brittany said.

            "What?" Chris replied.  Of all the directions the conversation could have gone in, this wasn't what he expected.

            "Let's face it - I've been a quadruple amputee since I was 12 - I haven't had a lot of dates.  I love baseball, and baseball players - and I really like the way you play, the way you move on the field.  Honestly, think of all the other guys on your team - what are my odds with them?"

            "Pretty slim." Chris admitted.

            "Slim - I'd say nil. Unless it's a mercy date, and I've had enough of those to last a lifetime.  That's why I was so excited that you started noticing me, sneaking glances at me.  I knew it wasn't 'freak factor' - those guys who just gawk do it openly.  You had interest.  I was just hoping that if I went to enough games, you would ask me out or something.  And it looks like my plan worked."

            Chris was amazed.  As long as he had been dreaming and scheming about Brittany, Brittany had been dreaming and scheming about him. He suddenly felt very close to her.

            Dinner was wonderful - Chris got to butter Brittany’s bread and watch her eat with her hooks.  The way she handled her wine glass was just amazing, and by the end of the night, Chris knew that he was very much in love with this armless, legless beauty, but it was Brittany who once again suggested going back to his place.

            "Are you serious?" Chris asked.  "My place isn't exactly 'wheelchair accessible', you know."

            "I'm very serious, and accessibility isn't a problem."

            "Why not?" Chris asked.

            "You're a big strong guy - I'm pretty light.  You figure it out."

           

            They drove to Chris' house in near silence; not an awkward silence, but the silence of two people comfortable enough with each other to just not talk.  Chris pulled the mini-van into his driveway and parked.  He nearly said something inane like 'Here we are', but decided to just say nothing.  He helped Brittany out of the van, the lift setting her wheelchair down on the paved driveway, and he led her to the side door.  The front door would have been more proper, but it had three stairs leading up to it. All they had to contend with at the side door was a sliding glass unit and a doorjamb.  Chris helped Brittany into his modest house, and offered her another drink. 

            "Soda is fine, or apple juice if you've got it - don't want to drink and drive." she said as he fetched the drinks.  They both giggled and Chris got Brittany some apple juice, and himself a glass of beer and brought them both back.

            "Um, Chris." Brittany said when he re-entered the living room.

            "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

            "Well, my glass - I either need a glass with a handle, or you'll have to help me -" she said, holding up her hooks.  "These don't do so well on round cups."

            "I'm sorry, I didn't think.  I can help, if you'll let me." Chris said, hopefully.  Brittany just nodded, looking at him.

            Sharing apple juice turned into helping her get on the couch, and then Chris and Brittany were sitting close together on the couch, listening to music.

            "Chris." Brittany said,

            "Yes?" Chris whispered into her ear.

            "Now that you've been with me, been up close and personal - are you still attracted to me?  Be honest, please." she said.

            Instead of answering, Chris kissed her, deeply and passionately.  He rubbed her cheeks, caressed her shoulders, feeling the straps that held on her arms.  She returned the kiss, deeply, and Chris felt a cool metal hook touching his leg.  He was instantly aroused. The pair didn't break their kiss, but Chris began to undress Brittany, unzipping her dress from behind.  He felt her small leg stump pressing against his thigh, soft and sensual.  She undid his tie with her hooks, pulling it off and tossing it aside.  Chris pushed her prosthetic arms down and slipped her out of her dress, then lifted her onto his lap.  She wore dark pantyhose custom fit to her little stumps, and-

            "I hope you don't have a problem with it." Brittany suddenly said.  She was referring to her diaper.

            "No, I don't.  I mean, it's not something I'm into or anything, but-" Chris couldn't think of anything to say, he just wanted to kiss her and hold her close against him.  She could see it in his eyes, and just hugged him with those prosthetic arms.  He could feel the hard plastic against him, and feel her warm, soft breasts against his bare chest.  She felt her move her leg stumps at his crotch, and moaned.

            "Someone's come out to play." Brittany said, referring to Chris's very aroused cock.  She unlocked her hug and began trying to unfasten Chris' belt - she wasn't having much luck and finally asked him to help her.  He lifted her off his lap and removed his pants, and at her urging, his underwear.  She reached up and gently caressed his hard cock with a cold steel hand.  He moaned again as she caressed him with those cold hooks, and she liked it.  He sat back down and again and she whispered to him.  He lifted her again, setting her on his lap, and she did a little stump walk up his thighs, until his cock was wrapped between her warm stumps.  He played with her tits as she wiggled her stumps for him, masturbating him.  He could feel the nylons, the bulk of her diaper wrapped against his cock, her beautiful stumps.  He kept kissing her and fondling her breasts, enjoying the feel of this quadruple amputee rubbing against him.  Brittany moaned as he caressed her breasts and shoulders, and she tightened her stumps around his cock.  It all because too much for him, and Chris let out a moan as he came in a powerful orgasm.

            Not a word was said, but Chris lifted Brittany and carried her into his bedroom, setting her on his king-sized bed.  She motioned with her hooks. "On or off" she said.  "Off" he replied, and she showed him what to unhook, releasing the arms.  He slid them off her; revealing very sexy five-inch arm stumps encased in elastic stumps socks.  Chris slowly stripped the stump socks off of her, then began pulling off the now-soiled pantyhose and diaper.

            She lay there, naked before him.  Long red hair glistening, firm breasts with pink, erect nipples.  Her slender shoulders, tapering and ending in those beautiful, five-inch stumps, which she wiggled just for him.  He followed the contours of her firm body, her stomach, down to her shaved pussy, and finally to those perfect, four inch leg stumps, spread open just a hint, erotically.  It was as if the rest of the world just stopped, and all that existed was him, alone with a beautiful, erotic amputee.

            Chris got into bed slowly, gently, laying beside Brittany, caressing her.  She writhed at his touch, her stumps animated, her breath heavy.  He traced a soft line down her right arm stump with his fingertip, tracing its soft curve, it's small scar.  Brittany wiggled closer and began stroking his face with her stumps, pressing the soft nubs against his flesh.  She turned towards him and stroked his hard cock with her little leg stumps, the feelings almost more than Chris could bear.  He kissed her deeply, holding her close to him, and he could feel her stumps caressing him all over, erotically drawing him into her.

            Brittany pushed on Chris suddenly with her arm stumps, throwing off his balance so he was on his back.  Before he could sit up again, Brittany was on him, scrambling on her four sexy nubs.

            "What are you doing?" Chris asked, surprised.

            "I want you so bad!" Brittany exploded, crawling on top of Chris.  He felt her stumps wrap around his cock, and helped Brittany to steady herself, watching her caress and fondle him with her abbreviated limbs.

            "Mmmmm, that's nice." He said as Brittany stroked his erect cock with her arm stumps.

            "You like it? Really?" Brittany asked, panting.

            "Oooh baby, I love it!" Chris said, running his fingers through her beautiful hair.

            "I want it so bad, Chris!  You don't know what it's been like, living like this!" Brittany said with urgency.  Chris looked at her, at her wheelchair, and he understood.  He lifted her off of him, and she looked at him quizzically, longingly, until he set her gently beside him on the bed and kissed her deeply.  She understood.

            She spread her stumps for him, and he entered her slowly, sensually, kissing her deeply, making her moan.  He felt her little arms stumps against his face, caressing him as he pushed into her.  Neither spoke, but they found a rhythm all their own.  He could feel her warmth, her wetness wrapped around his member like some exquisite oil; feel her leg nubs spread, flailing in pleasure. 

            They lay there for hours, sometimes making love, sometimes just laying beside one another in silence.  Suddenly, Brittany began to cry softly.

            "What's wrong?" Chris asked, concerned.

            "I'm afraid." Brittany said.

            "Of what?" Chris asked, hugging her tighter.

            "I feel safer and more complete in your arms that I ever have, in my life.  I'm just afraid it will end." she confided.

            "It won't" Chris said, kissing her arm stump, and both of them knew it was the truth.

            The next morning was wonderful for both Chris and Brittany.  Chris was extremely attentive to her every need, helping to wash her, put her prosthetic arms on, and dressing her. Brittany was very playful, constantly rubbing Chris's cock, kissing him, and in general making him feel good.

            Chris had a game that day, so he returned Brittany home, into the care of her mother.  She didn’t' say anything, and neither did Brittany, but Chris could tell she knew, and she was as happy about it as Brittany.

            Brittany and her mom were at the game again, and after the game, Chris took them both out to a nice dinner together.  Brittany's mom was really nice, and very supportive of the relationship - Chris could tell she probably never thought her daughter could have a relationship.  They had a nice dinner together, and Chris could barely take his eyes off Brittany, eating with those plastic arms, deftly lifting her fork or wine glass between chrome hooks.  She might have no limbs, but Chris just couldn't see her as crippled. 

            After dinner, much to Chris's delight, Brittany's mother dropped her off at his house.  She had barely pulled out of the driveway, and Chris swooped in on Brittany, lifting her out of her wheelchair and kissing her deeply, passionately, a kiss she readily returned.  He carried her into the bedroom, undressing her down to her underwear and arms in seconds. 

            "I couldn't stop thinking about you." he said between kisses.

            "And I couldn't stop thinking about you, either." Brittany said, breathless, stroking his legs with her prosthetic arms.

            "You arms..." Chris said.

            "Want them off?" Brittany asked, not looking up.

            "No." Chris said.  Brittany nodded and began trying to undress Chris with her hooks.  She was very careful, gently slipping off his shirt, though she needed a little help with his belt and pants button.  As she slipped his underwear off of his hard cock, she ran the smooth back of one cool metal hook down its shaft.  Chris shuddered and moaned loudly, and Brittany kissed his cock lightly.  He threw her back on the bed passionately and slipped off her underwear, entering her deeply and kissing her face and neck.

            Brittany moaned and squirmed under him, then whispered in his ear softly, nibbling it.  He nodded, and in a smooth motion, they rolled together, so that Brittany was on top.  She steadied herself with her prosthetic arms, having Chris lock the elbows straight out, and she began to move her hips, fucking him back and forth, making Chris moan loudly.  He caressed her tits and shoulders as she pumped him, not caring where the flesh ended and the plastic of her arms began.  Both came explosively, and Chris helped Brittany off of him, laying her gently beside him.

            The next six moths were amazing for Chris and Brittany both.  For Chris, he was picked up by a major league team - his first dream had come true, and he was starting the next season with a long-term major league contract.  Added to that was Brittany - their relationship had blossomed, and Chris had asked her to marry him; a proposal she was only too happy to accept.  With their marriage, his second dream had come true too, and both of them couldn't have been happier....