Wheelie Girl

By Evelyn Rae

After her injury, Chelsea stops moving forward in life. She spends her days at the park, just pushing her wheelchair around the track again and again.

Then she meets Erik, a man who knows how to use a wheelchair like a skateboard to do amazing tricks on a half-pipe.

Learning to move her chair like that brings Chelsea back to life, but as she starts to fall for Erik, she has no idea the enormous secret that he is keeping from her.

This is an erotic short story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Rae
• Release date: Mar 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301066971

Evelyn Rae

Author of erotic short stories with taboos like medical fetish and cast bondage. [Coworker Crush and Lost Lover are mainstream erotica and not fetishistic]

Book preview

Wheelie Girl

By Evelyn Rae

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013

Cover Model: Prem Vali

I love the feel of wind in my face as I wheel fast. I lean forward just a little and give my wheel rims hard thrusts. The air lifts my hair and pushes over my skin. It’s yummy. I almost feel like I’m flying.

My favorite place to do this is the track in the park by my house. Its surface is smooth and there’s almost never anyone there. Just some old ladies walking on the far edge sometimes. I zoom past them on the inner loop.

I don’t have a racing chair. I just like building up speed and zipping along pretending I’m a bird. I barely notice my legs jiggling as I push. The only thing I feel is elation and the only thing I hear is my heart beating in my ribcage. My boobs bounce slightly, but I don’t think anyone notices the rack on a paraplegic girl. Too busy tut-tutting over my legs.

I’m grinning like a fool when I finally take my hands off the wheels, coast for several seconds and allow my chair to come to a gentle stop. My windbreaker jacket is hanging off my shoulders and bunching up behind my back and I know my hair must be a fluffy wreck, with curls darting off in all directions. I can feel the ruddy glow of my cheeks rebelling against the chilly air.

Fall is the best time of year. I give a shove and then coast again for several seconds, grinning madly into the wind. That's when I notice there's a guy standing at the edge of the parking lot. He’s a young man, around my age or maybe a little older and he’s got his hands deep in his pockets, causing his shoulders to rise. He’s looking at me.

My chair drifts to a stop. He's several yards away, but my heart starts pounding twice as hard as our eyes lock. His are light gray and they look strange against his blonde hair. Then he blinks, frowns, darts his head and turns, walking back into the parking lot and out of my line of sight. I frown and shiver.

Who is this man? I’ve never seen him before. I’m tempted to chase after him but there’s no way I’d catch up pushing my wheelchair over the grass.

Another part of me doesn’t want to be anywhere close to this stranger. Men are dangerous. We’re all told this from a young age. Be careful of men. They may want to rape you; they may want to hurt you; they may want to kill you. And after