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She stooped down, lifted the sopping wet towel off of the shower floor and draped it on a towel holder before pushing the wheelchair out of the shower. “Here,” she said, after finally finding the sippy cup that sat next to the bathroom sink, “you’d better drink this,” she added, filling it with water. She held the cup to Adriel’s lips and gently stroked the top of his head with her hand as he drank. “‘Tonight you’re mine completely, you give your love, so sweetly,’” she sang in breathy style. “I love you, Adriel,” she said, kissing the top of his head, refilling his glass and then downing the water. “Let’s get you to the boudoir, shall we?”

Adriel had christened the pulleys and harnesses that hung from their bedroom ceiling the trapeze. Once the workmen had finished installing it he had emitted a long, low whistle and said, “Wow. We should have installed this a long time ago. Seems like a couple of crazy kids could have a lot of fun swinging from this thing.”

He had been right and they had used the harness for off-label, non FDA approved morale boosting before his disability became so pronounced that the device was required to get him into and out of bed. As his body wasted they modified their love making to accommodate his abilities. Just before the voder became a communication requirement he had whispered to her, “Listen. I’d understand if you slept with other men. I know that wouldn’t mean you love me less.”

In response Gabrielle had stilled her caressing hands and after a moment replied, “No, it wouldn’t, but it really wouldn’t make either one of us happy, now would it? Now shut up and use your tongue, you big goof ball.”

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