Loading...Joan wears a white sleeveless tee shirt and faded jeans, her blue hair cropped short and her chest flat. From a distance, she gives the first impression of being a guy. The right arm is gone, less than a third of the upper arm remains. She walks with a swagger, nothing bothering her.
“Hey, babe,” Roger calls, seeing her walking across the parking lot to her car.
She kicks at the gravel with her cowboy boots, spits, and turns towards him. “Hey, yourself.”
“Somethin’ up?”
“Nah. Just got canned. Fuck ’em. Don’t need this shit.”
“‘Cause of the arm?”
“Hell, yeah-h. I should sue the bastards…over ADA and such.”
“They only want you to cover ‘it’ up. Wear a tee shirt with sleeves, why don’t you?”
“Fuckers don’t have to cover their ugly ass arms. Why should I have to cover this?” She glances down at the missing arm moving slightly. Besides, Frank has some prison tats and he don’t get no shit ’bout that.”
“Let me buy you a beer. It’ll be good.”
“Yeah, not like I can find a job now…tomorrow.”
They walk through the night along the deserted sidewalk holding hands. The banter is idle in the cool air of a sexually charged moment. They have known each other the week she worked at the combination deli and coffee shop. Even with the missing arm, he found a curious urge to be with her.
“We could go to my place,” she suddenly says, not breaking a stride for a few more steps. She stops and steps in front of him. “Would you want me?” She stands there, her hand now on against her waist.
“Your missing arm doesn’t bother me.”
“Got no boobs.”
“Maybe I like you that way.”
“Ha!” she roars. “Guys like ’em at least big enough to hold.”
“Yeah, but guys like chicks with two arms…so.”
She takes his hand and pulls him towards the hole in the wall bar. “Maybe another time.” They walk a moment in silence. “I just need some fuckin’.” She scuffs the toe of a boot in the sidewalk then walks away. “Catch ya later, alligator,” she offers over her shoulder, and then laughs. Roger watches her walk away.
“Home!” she calls out, clicking the latch on the front door of the first floor flat.
“Here,” Susan calls from the small kitchen while taking a beer from a refrigerator that has seen better days. “Want one?” She automatically reaches for another, pops the top, and hands it to her.
“God, what a fucked day.” Joan groans, taking the bottle. She sucks down a large chug, watching her roommate move about on one crutch. “Love those cutoffs, makes me horny.”
She slaps the end of the short stump of the right thigh with her only hand. “Any stump makes you horny.”
Joan finishes the rest of the beer in another swig. “Yeah, guess so. I got fired. Going to bed.”
–
A few days later the phone rings. Joan listens to the man explain he is Paul Wick, the owner of the chain of delis. “He was out of line,” Paul explains about the manager. “Let’s talk. I hear you’re a good employee.”
“Yeah,” she snarls, rubbing her fingers against her chest with the phone tucked against her ear.
“You have every reason to be angry.”
“I think so. Asshole had no right.”
“I agree. If we can only meet, I believe I can make it up to you.”
“What about dickhead?”
Paul laughs. “You weren’t the first to have problems with ‘dickhead’.”
She laughs at his use of the word. Not knowing him, it seemed out of character. “You sound cool. Yeah, lets met. I’ll even wear my dress up faded jeans instead of my everyday faded jeans.” She chuckles.
“Now would be fine. Maybe we can have lunch afterwards.”
“Great. I’ll bring an empty stomach too.”
The secretary seems appropriately discussed with Joan’s appearance, the same kind of sleeveless tee shirt she prefers to wear with the stump out in full view. Joan combs her fingers though the blue hair and sits down with her legs crossed in an unladylike manner – one ankle over the other knee.
“He’s ready,” the secretary, says five minutes later holding the office door open.
“I’m Pa … Paul,” Paul stammers with his hand out taking his first look at Joan.
“Not what you expected?” She laughs. “I’m Joan.”
“Sorry. Have a seat.” He waves a hand towards the chair on the other side of his large wooden desk.
She plops in the chair, slouched, legs crossed as before. “It’s alright. I always like that initial reaction. Don’t know why.” She chuckles. “You should see it when someone first meets my roommate. Susan is missing an arm ‘and’ a leg.” She chuckles again.
“Really?” Paul leans back, both hands clasped behind his head. “You’re bold. I like that.”
“Pisses off most folk.”
“And you like that?”
“I’ve got the angry act down pat.”
“Why? You’re pretty. I bet smart as well. Is it the missing arm?”
“That, nah. That I don’t mind. My dad beat my mother. Guess I’m angry ’cause she wasn’t.”
“They still together?”
“Nope. She’s dead and he’s in prison.”
“Oh-h.” He sits back up, hands on the desk. “Listen, I want you working for me again.”
Joan holds her only hand up. “Not working for him.”
“I understand completely. Dickhead no longer works for me.” He laughs. “If that location isn’t good, let me know and we’ll find you a place.”
“When do I start?”
“Whenever you want and I’ll see you get a little more an hour.” He watches her nod a few times, then smile in a different way than before – happy. “Say, does your roommate need a job?”
“She doesn’t stand for long.”
“Well, if she would like a change, maybe I can find her something.” He pushes a business card across the table. “Have her call me.”
“Sure.”
“Did you bring that empty stomach? We could find a place to eat…and not one of the delis. He chuckles.
–
Susan had eagerly called after Joan told her about the conversation with Paul and getting her job back. Now the secretary watches her stroll casually on a single crutch towards her as though she had walked that way all her life.
“Susan Thomas to see Paul Wick.”
The woman stares a moment then makes a phone call. When she hangs up, she says, “He’s ready.” Then points towards the office door with an expression that seems to say ‘let’s see you open that by yourself’. Just as the door begins to close behind Susan, she hears the woman say, “I’ll be damn.”
Paul seems overwhelmed as he takes in Susan’s features – tall with nice curves, lovely brown curls, perfectly tanned skin that makes her look like she’d stepped off the pages of a travel magazine, and dressed in an business appropriate knee length dress.
“Yes, Paul, I get that a lot.” She snickers. “I’m glad you approve.” She sits and gently lays the crutch beside the chair then smoothes the dress along the thigh.
“You wouldn’t like to get married, would you?” His smile his big and Susan imagines other parts are firm from the expression.
She fakes a glance at her watch. “Let’s see, I have to balance the national budget this afternoon, maybe tomorrow.” She smiles then combs her long brown hair with her fingers as she tosses it with a flip of the head.
“Great, maybe about noon.” He laughs. “God, I think I’m in love.”
“Just in case you missed it, I’m not all here.” She waves her arm slightly to emphasize the stump.
He shrugs. “So?”
“Oh-h.”
“Yeah, oh-h. You have the job to do…whatever…you just let me know. Let’s go to lunch.”
“Wow, that was the best interview I’ve ever had.” She stands as he comes around the desk. As she slips the crutch under the arm, he stops close. “Maybe you’d rather have me at the front desk than her.” She smiles and touches his arm lightly.
–
“My usual table,” Paul says to the host at the restaurant. It is a nicer place than where he took Joan, one with dark paneled walls and high ceilings with ornate moldings everywhere. They follow the host and Susan watches the floor to keep from tripping on people’s feet.
“Perhaps a drink?” Paul asks.
She glances up at the host. “Whiskey, neat. Jack Daniels.”
“Same.”
The host walks away and Paul studies her, his eyes roaming everywhere.
“Should see me naked,” she teases then snickers.
“I’d have to adjust my pacemaker.” He laughs.
She takes his hand. “You’re sweet. I hope Mrs. Wick won’t mind.”
“If there was one, I’d hire a hit-man this afternoon.”
“Hmmm.”
“No, there’s no longer a Mrs. Wick and no children either.”
Susan stands and takes a deft hop then settles in the chair closer to Paul. “There, you’ll have a better view.” She smoothes her dress along the thigh then pulls it up slightly. Briefly, her hand rests on the end of the very short stump of her thigh as she again looks at him.
“My, my, you are beautiful.”
“Have women with missing limbs always effect you this way?”
“What way?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She chuckles. “I have a feeling you are lusting just a little.” She takes his hand.
“Guess I’m not doing a very good job of hiding my feelings.”
She plays with his finger almost as if she is stroking his erection, and nibbles at her lower lip. “Nope…thank god.”
“Ah.”
She continues the play leaving little doubt about the simulation and letting her chest swell slightly so her nipples poke into the dress.
“Ah, pacemaker repair, come quickly.” He laughs and playfully holds his chest.
“I don’t think I’ve had such a nice reaction before.” She lets her tongue wander across her lips.
The food arrives and he orders another round of drinks. After the waiter leaves, he gives her a long look as she knowingly nods that she is his if he wants her. He cuts the steak and notices she is just holding the knife. “Let me,” he offers and pulls her plate closer. “One of the problems I take it,” he whispers, cutting and eyeing her.
“Uh-huh. I don’t have many, but that is probably at the top of the list.”
“It’s okay,” he mutters, still slicing the meat. He pushes the plate back to her. “Just let me know. I’ll help.”
“Thank you.”
“Joan mentioned you’re roommates.”
She sighs. “Yes.” She drops the shoe off and rubs her barefoot along his leg while chewing a bite. “She can be a little wild.”
He shrugs, and swallows. “Pretty, not like you, but….”
“She moved in with us when she was young. We grew up together, almost like sisters.”
“She mentioned her parents.”
“Tragic…colored her a lot.”
There is tortured silence and for a moment, they simply stare at each other.
“Curious you both are missing arms.”
“Uh-huh.” Again, Susan is silent as if he crossed some line.
“Painful memories. Sorry,” he says.
“We just don’t know each other well enough.”
“I understand.” He takes her hand. “I understand.”
She keeps his hand and rubs his leg with the barefoot again. There is a heavy sigh. “Guess it’d come out…eventually.”
“No, you don’t have….”
“Paul, you are a handsome man. I never expected to be sharing these feelings so quickly with anyone, but you….” She takes a deep breath. “I think you might understand in ways others don’t.”
“Please.”
She looks around as if about to tell state secrets then takes a sip of the new drink. “She has her own story…issues.”
“Understood….”
She holds the hand up stopping him, and then takes another sip. “This is so awkward.” She sighs. “Before Joan…a woman would baby sit me. She was missing an arm…. Oh fuck, I can’t do this.”
“I think I understand. Really, I do.”
He pats her knee, knowing how the story ends. It is similar to his story. He pushes the plate away and wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin. The rest of the drink washes over his tongue as he finishes it.
“You?” she asks, nodding with a smile.
“Yes.”
“Done anything?”
“About it?” He sits silent for a while. “My ex-wife never understood that part of me. She didn’t like to even talk about it, but as long as it was just talk it was okay. She sometimes pretended for me, bind her leg up and walk about the house. I thought it would hold my demons at bay. I guess she did as well.”
“Nothing does.”
“You’ve got that right.” He groans.
She finishes eating and he moves her plate while she wipes her mouth. “So?”
“I couldn’t stand myself. Told her I had to do something. I’d found a doctor overseas doing these.” He waves a hand towards her arm stump. “She left. I went. I had the money, even after she took me to the cleaners. I waited. I didn’t want my need to cloud the divorce anymore than it did…and have her lawyer claim I was crazy. He probably would have. Her only good thing was a promise to keep it our secret.”
“You walk well. I didn’t notice.”
“Money can buy a fine prosthetic leg.” He laughs. “I only wear it to work.”
She pulls her dress against her leg stump. “There’s not much.” She rubs a moment then fluffs the dress.
“That’s what I wanted. I was afraid. Why both?”
“Why one?” She laughs.
“Good point.” He takes her hand. “Can I see you again?”
“I hope.” She laughs. “Tonight?”
–
Susan gasps for air, only a labored wheeze seems to escape her lips. Paul isn’t much better. They both lie on their back hoping for more of each other, but needing to relax a little more. No opening on either missed in multiple ways.
“Fuckin’ good,” she finally offers, and then snickers. “You are very good with that tongue.”
“You’re a keeper too.” He laughs. “I mean that.”
“I want to be with you….”
“Why not? Move in and let’s do this all the time.”
“It was good just now, no doubt. But what else would keep us together?”
He sighs deeply then pulls her against him, his mouth against hers. Her hand clutches his stump, massaging the end against her palm.
“Anyone ever do that for you?” she asks.
“It’s only been a year since…. Yeah, there was one woman. Kim wrote me, told me she was a devotee, and loved me with one leg. Wanted to meet, so we IM’d for a while. She came, literally.” He laughs. “It was clear we were not a match.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“Spend the rest of the night, please.”
“I need to get back…Joan.”
“Sure. Tomorrow?”
She begins dressing and stands to work the dress past her waist. There is a long look at him, taking in his wonderful nakedness. “If you’d like.”
“I may have to let the alligators out into the moat and raise the drawbridge so you can’t leave the castle.”
“Hmmm. There were a few moves that we need to practice again.” She laughs. “About seven tomorrow night?”
–
“Joan?” Susan calls, locking the front door. She drops her purse on the coffee table and walks to the bedroom to change. She peeks in Joan’s bedroom and she is not there, the light is off, and the bed still made.
The warm shower feels good, as she turns slowly on the single foot, letting all the sex crud wash away. She stands still until the water begins to run cool the sits on the edge of the tub to dry.
“Did you use all the hot water?” Joan asks, leaning against the open door wearing only her sleeveless shirt.
“Sorry, I did.”
Joan waves her hand. “It’ll come back.” She digs the toes of one foot against the floor and drags the hand over a breast in a non-suggestive manner. “How was Paul?”
“We had a good talk.”
Joan glances at the clock on the counter. “Eight hours. It must have been ‘real’ good.”
“Uh-huh. I want to know more about him, seems we have some things in common.”
“Yeah, I noticed him staring at my arm.”
“Listen, Joan, I…. I, ah, want to see him again tomorrow night. I think I might stay the night.”
“Good for you.” She groans then turns to leave.
Susan grabs her crutch and hurries to catch up. “Wait. Are you pissed?”
“Nah. I’m happy for you. Maybe I’ll hook up with Roger. I think he wants me.”
Susan touches her arm then curls fingers around it. “Look, sis. I’m not moving away.”
She gives her a lingering kiss, her tongue worms between her lips. “I know. I’m happy for you.” Joan turns and walks away.
“Don’t be angry,” Susan calls.
–
There is no foreplay, no sexual banter. Instead, Paul hurries Susan to the bedroom where they undress eagerly. His prosthetic leg lying on the floor, he takes her tightly in his arms. His erection begs against her opening, but neither is ready for that yet. Their mouths move about against each other and tongues dance together.
He holds a breast, rolling it about under his palm, feeling the nipple poke its firmness against it.
“Oh-h, Paul,” she coos, and then takes the mouth again.
He feels her squirm against his body. He wants her too. His mouth lets go and he nibbles downward, twisting so their faces are between thighs. Her fragrance begs his lips to savor the parting opening.
–
Returning from the bathroom, she notices a wheelchair in the closet with the door slightly ajar. She opens the door more and stares into the darkness.
“It’s a powered wheelchair,” he tells her, as he finishes hopping to her. Now he stands behind her, his hand rubbing her buttock and short stump lovingly.
“Why?” She begs.
“No way to hide this. I guess.”
“No, Paul. I want to know all about you. Please, tell me.”
“Remember I told you I wear my leg to work.” He sighs deeply. “I’m so ashamed of my feelings, my needs. You’re the only one that understands.”
“Do you want the other leg off too?”
“In my dream world, I’d have two stumps, very, very short ones. I sometimes use the chair and imagine I’m that way.”
“Can I use it?”
“Sure. You’d be cute that way.” He snickers as he sits in the chair and flicks to power button on. He drives about the room a few times then parks beside Susan, giving her direction on how to work it.
The controller is on the same side as her hand and she readily adapts to driving the chair around. “I wish I had this.” She laughs and continues to drive about the room then down the hallway before returning.
“I might have to buy another, looks like.”
“Why? Because I’ll never give it back.” She laughs. “If I had this, I wouldn’t need my other leg, would I?”
“I swear; you are trying to make my heart fail.” He mocks holding his chest as if he is having a heart attack.
“Poor baby,” she teases. “From the looks of that, I might believe the thought of me without legs excites you.” She laughs, looking at the raging erection.
–
Joan slams down the shot of whiskey. The glass sits hard on the worn wood of the bar where mostly men drink to get drunk. “Another,” she tells the bartender wiping the glass he just finished washing.
“Where’s your buddy?”
“Roger’s not my buddy. We work together. That’s about it.”
She takes a long look at the slim bald man filling the glass. He has an earring in one ear and a tattoo of a peg leg peaking from the shirtsleeve. He pushes the glass towards her and leans on one elbow, the towel draped over his shoulder.
“Nice tat,” she coos before sampling the drink.
“Yeah. Did you ever know anyone that wore a peg?”
“Nope.” She stares at his face imagining what that would look like. “You?”
“My old man had a friend that did when I was a kid.”
“Bet that made you think of pirates.” She chuckles then sips.
“Man, I never forgot the way that sounded…the tap, tap, against hardwood.”
“Hell, if you had one leg.” She sips. “You could get a peg.”
“I do and I did.”
“Whoa, really?”
“You should get a hook and we could be a team.”
He laughs then wanders off to satisfy a few customers need for drink. His feet hidden below the backside of the bar, she can’t see them or tell if he has a limp.
“Arrg matey, need more grog?” he teases, sounding like a pirate.
“How much of the leg?”
“‘Bout half the thigh…enough to wear a prosthetic leg.”
“Ever just use crutches?”
“Yeah…often.” He fills her glass then smiles. “On the house.”
“My name is Joan.”
“Pete. Nice to meet you.”
“You bet. I’ve noticed you, but I didn’t know about the leg.”
“Would that have made a difference?”
“Sure-e.” She chuckles then chugs half the drink. “More grog, captain.”
“That’s a nice stump you have.”
“It’s a long story, sometime I might tell it to you…if we’re alone.” She nibbles her lower lips. “And naked.”
“Joan, my lovely, ‘that’ could be arranged.”
“I figured. When can you work me into the line of beauties begging to be with you?”
“Ha. Fat chance that happens.”
“Why, ’cause of the leg?”
“Yeah, they run when they see my stump or even learn I just have one leg.”
“Fools…I wouldn’t.”
“But you have a stump, you probably understand.”
“Does it matter? Besides, I think a man with one leg is sexy.” She takes his hand for a moment.
–
Joan rests her head on Pete’s thigh and wipes a glob of jism from the corner of her mouth before fondling his stump. He fingers her slit and toys her bud, still pecking kisses there after another climax.
“Whew,” she sighs. “You can do that again, anytime.” She parts her thighs more and takes the come-covered head in her mouth for a moment.
“I have a feeling we will.” He laughs.
“Good. I never get enough.”
“Music to my ears. I love the way you taste.”
“Talk about music….” She snickers then wriggles her slit against his mouth. “You can have my pussy all you want.” She takes half the shaft and works her lips tightly along it.
He fills her with fingers, pumping and drilling quickly. “Oh god, oh god,” she begins moaning repeatedly as before. Her hand strokes him casually, letting her own pleasure take priority. She turns her head and screams into the stump as another climax overtakes her.
“Give a poor cripple a break,” she teases, still letting her lips kiss the end of his stump.
“You promised me your story.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Well, confess.” He chuckles. His hand rubs the top of her thigh then the other. “Hmmm.” He rubs again.
“Don’t tell me you want them off.”
“I bet you’ve dreamed about that.”
“Maybe I have.”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“How much should I have off, then?”
“If we were married and I was rich….” He chuckles.
“Yeah, go with that dream for a moment.”
“Well, then all of each or maybe a bit of a stump on one side and all the other.”
“Think of how nicely your mouth would fit down there with no thighs in the way.” She laughs.
Joan reaches for her foot then pulls it behind her neck, locking it behind the shoulder. She stretches out again, seeming as relaxed and comfortable as before. She wiggles the toes on the other foot and flexes the ankle, letting the hand rest on the folded hip.
“Like this?” She musses, moving the arm stump about.
“How’d you….”
“I’ve always been limber. I used to sit around with both legs like this. Sometimes I’d put on a short skirt and walk about on my hands. Some of the adults thought I was cute, others twisted and sick.”
“Not sick.”
“Uh-huh. It took me years to understand and I hid my feelings.”
“Didn’t you tell anyone?”
“My sister. Her parents adopted me, so I guess she isn’t ‘really’ my sister. Susan and I would pretend to be missing arms, legs, whatever. She got it. Later I understood she had her own issues. Anyway….”
Joan continues to lie casually with the foot contorted behind her. Pete rubs the folded hip and fondles it as though a stump. “Oh man….”
“You really like that.”
“I’ve never seen a woman wrap a foot behind her. Whoa. But that look, that is fantastic.”
“And if my leg was off at the hip?”
“I’d be worshiping at your pussy twenty-four seven.” He grins. “Sorry, that came out coarser than I meant.”
“Not a problem. I like the thought.” She laughs, leaving the foot behind her. “Try it out.”
He begins kissing the folded hip and her slit. “No,” she begs. “Do me.” He licks her deeply. “No one has been in me like this, please.”
–
Susan sits in the powered wheelchair with the foot pulled under her hip and fluffs the skirt until it dangles over the end of the folded knee.
“Yeah, like that,” Paul encourages. “That looks fantastic.”
She drives about the large house imagining the leg is gone like the other. He follows on crutches wearing only khaki short pants with the end of the stump peeking out.
“I can’t keep up,” he begs, laughing.
“Guess we need to get another one.”
“We can take turns.”
“I don’t know, Susan.” He drags a hand over his pants then grips the erection. “I don’t know.”
–
Pete pulls her other foot towards her head and Joan moves enough to accept it behind her. He then lowers himself onto her, sliding easily inside.
“Oh-h, baby,” she moans, sensing the closest thing to not having legs while making love.
Pete grunts a few times, slamming the full length of his shaft into her. His stump falls against one legless hip each time.
“Yeah! Yeah-h,” she calls loudly. Her arm stump reaches for his face and he dips it close enough to feel it rub his lips. “Fuckin’ great.”
“I wish we could….”
“We will. I know we will.”
–
Joan steps from the shower and dries when Susan knocks on the door. After a quick exchange of words, Susan opens it and leans against the counter. She gives a though look.
“Missed you,” Joan says rubbing the towel through her short blue hair.
“Sorry, Paul and I hooked up nicely.”
“It’s okay, I met someone.”
“Oh? Not Roger.”
“Him, nah. Pete, the bartender over at the bar. I didn’t realize he was missing a leg.”
“Lucky you. Is it a nice stump?”
“It lit my fire.” She laughs. “He had fun teasing about me missing my legs…like we used to do.”
“You pull your feet behind your neck? God, that was always fun to watch.”
“Yup. He ‘did’ me that way. I wish it were for real. That is my one big regret.”
“The four of us need to have dinner and talk.”
“Paul, what’s he got going in this area?”
“Did you know he has one leg?”
“Come on-n. No way.”
“Yup, same doctor that did ours. My heart still pounds a mile a minute.”
“Did you tell him?”
“He had a powered wheelchair and let me pretend in it.”
“Oh, god. No way.”
–
The barbeque grill sizzles with burgers soon after Paul leads Pete out to the patio. The guys both are on crutches, wearing short pants and tee shirts. Susan drags Joan into the den where the powered wheelchair waits.
“Beer?” Paul quizzes, pointing at a cooler. “Get me one too.”
Pete grabs a bottle, pops the top and hands it to him then does the same for himself.
“How’s the stump?” Pete asks, banging the bottles together then sipping. He holds the bottle up. “That hits the spot for sure.”
“Great. Guess you heard I wanted it off this way.”
“Your secret is safe with me, man. I was thrilled to learn about the women. Sure caught me off guard.”
“Should have seen me when I interviewed Joan and then Susan the very next day. Never been that close to two women missing limbs.”
“Probably messed with your mind a little.”
“Oh, man, did it ever.”
“I’d seen Joan at the bar a few times. We started talking the other night, don’t know, it just felt right for a change.”
“Have you been a bartender long?”
“Yeah. Ten years or so.”
“Ever managed one?”
“Sure, several…not now. Who’d want to own up to managing the hole in the wall dive where I work now?” He laughs. “Why?”
“These are ready. Let them know.”
“Sure.”
Pete wanders though the large house until he hears giggling. He looks in the room and Joan and Susan are taking turns with the powered wheelchair.
“Ah, so this is where the real action is.” He chuckles. “Burgers are ready. We need to fix our buns.”
“Honey, you have nice buns,” Joan says, pulling her whole arm into her blouse so it will look like she doesn’t have arms. “Poor me is helpless. Will you fix my buns?” She juts her hips out suggestively towards him.
“Ah, maybe a little lube first,” Susan teases, dragging her hand over his pants. “I’d like to watch you put this in there.” She rubs it firmly a few times.
“Paul….” He stammers.
“Paul’s taken. By me, lover boy,” she says, giving him a deep kiss.
“Burgers!” Paul yells from the kitchen.
“Geez,” Susan moans. “I see what Joan likes about you. Bet Paul would like to watch you do both of us. He likes to watch.”
“Or you could watch,” Joan says, walking out of the room with the arm still tucked inside the blouse.
“Hey,” she says to Paul, twisting her fake armless shoulders. “That job is working out well.”
“Look at you! I had a feeling, I just didn’t know how to say it.”
“Maybe later, we could do some exploring.” She pushes the arm out the sleeve. “Susan sure looks good in the wheelchair, like she was born to be without legs.”
“Uh-huh. Haven’t been able to sit in it since she found it.” He laughs.
“Paul, you look handsome without the leg.”
“Yeah, he does,” coos Susan, sitting in the wheelchair. “You should see him naked.” She makes a soft moaning sound.
“Makes my panties wet.”
“Whose panties are wet?” Pete quizzes.
“Around you, baby…mine,” Joan coos, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling against him, letting her mouth take his.
“Buns, everyone,” Paul says, tapping a knife against a plate. “More beer in the fridge.”
With effort, everyone carries something to the large glass table on the patio by the swimming pool. The guys make an extra trip to bring more beer.
“Whoa, great day,” Susan says, looking at Pete rubbing his stump then sipping from his bottle.
Pete takes her in for a long moment, the opening of the bottle hovering in front of his lips before sipping. “When Joan told me….” He sips again. “I was overwhelmed.”
“What part?” She chuckles.
“I don’t know where to begin. I mean, even that she wanted her arm off.”
“When I first talked to Joan,” Paul begins. “I wondered. She seemed so confident and let it just hang out like that. Then, when I met Susan. Oh my god, I was so in love.”
“Isn’t he sweet,” Susan, musses.
“Peg leg. Huh?” Paul says to Pete.
He relates the story of the friend of his father’s and how the image of the man stuck with him. “So, I had a chance to have the amputation.” He eats another bite of burger.
“I’ve been afraid of my feelings all my life,” Paul says. “I wear my leg out in public. Few know I’m even an amputee, much less how come.”
“Same here,” Susan says. “It’s hard to hide the fact I’m an amputee and I won’t wear any hardware.”
“Prosthesis and peg, that’s it for me,” Pete says, finishing the burger.
“More?” Paul asks.
Pete waves a hand and shakes his head then lets a small burp escape. “Excuse me. That was a great burger.” He lets his hand fall against his stump then massages. “Can’t believe how satisfying it is to be around others with the same need.”
“A freedom not usually found,” Joan says.
“Everyone feel free to go for a swim.”
“No swimsuit,” Susan says.
“No one will see but us.” Paul laughs.
Joan pushes the plate away and swigs the last of her beer. Quietly and without suggestion, she pulls her foot behind her neck and locks it behind her as she had for Pete. She sits, watching the clouds roll past, and teases a nipple hidden under the tee shirt with a fingertip. She continues to sit as though it was the most natural thing to do.
“She wants her leg off, or both,” Pete comments, leaning casually back in the chair and still playing with his stump.
“Yes,” Susan whispers. She glances at Joan for a long moment. “She used to do that when were kids. I never expected to have my leg off before her.”
“Pete wants me like you…or both off.” Joan looks at Susan, then Pete. “Don’t you?”
“Not if you don’t.”
“But if I did, you’d find me more exciting than now.”
“Honey, this has to be about what ‘you want’.” Pete can feel his arousal growing as a piece of him screams ‘legless and missing an arm, wow-w’. “Besides, we don’t have the money or the relationship worked out.”
Susan strips off her clothes then hops calmly to the pool. Paul watches her breasts sway with each hop. “Look at that-t,” he drawls.
“Nice ass,” Joan playfully says. “Great boobs too. Wish I had some.”
“I like yours just as they are,” Pete tells her.
“Isn’t he sweet?” Without touching her foot, she brings it over her head and lowers it to the patio.
“Susan says she wants her other leg off,” Paul says, watching Joan.
Pete slips his short pants off and hops to the pool without comment.
“Yeah, I think if things were right, she would.” Joan sees him dive into the water.
“Would it help if you and Pete were settled?”
“Probably, but we just met.” She nibbles her lower lip in thought. “I want him though. First man to make me feel good about myself.” She shifts in the chair. “Doesn’t feel like my old man. I bet Pete wouldn’t hit me.”
“No, he seems like a wonderful man.” Paul pulls the chair closer to Joan. He stump hangs out of the pants leg and he brushes a hand over it a few times. “I own a few restaurants besides the deli chain. One has a bar and the manager is quitting. I was thinking of offering it to Pete. There’d be more money.”
“Whoa, meeting you has been a good thing.”
“Yeah, getting rid of dickhead has made a world of difference.” He laughs. “Maybe I could find an office position for you…something you could do with one or no legs, maybe in a wheelchair.”
“Really?”
“Think about. There’s no rush and right now, I don’t actually have something. If you have any ideas, we can talk when you are ready.”
“So you are going to ‘help’ Susan with the other leg.”
“I’d like to and I think she is interested in me.”
“I know she is.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel good to know. Like you and Pete, of course we just met. This is coming together so fast it scares me a little.”
–
Pete and Susan dangle from the edge of the pool, their feet barely touching bottom. The glances seem intensely curious from a short distance.
“You seem good for Joan,” Susan says.
“I hope so. She’s the first woman to light my fire like that. To be honest, I haven’t been very lucky with women.”
“I don’t know why. If Joan and Paul weren’t in the picture, you’d have a good shot with me.” She chuckles, swishing the arm stump across the surface of the water.
“You’re kind to say that. I’d be a fool to not take you up.” He laughs. “Are you thinking about the other leg?” He looks into the water at her body.
“From the looks of things, you find that exciting it seems.” She snickers.
“Sorry, can’t control that.”
“Doesn’t bother me. Makes me feel special to know I excite you.”
Pete watches her with growing interest. He hopes she won’t notice, though she probably does as much as he does. Her arm stump moves across the surface, back and forth, like a canoe paddle. It is just playing. He reaches towards it and takes in his grip, holding its softness loosely. It is longer than Joan’s stump, not by much.
She takes the stump away and rubs it against his face, her lips closer. She smiles, then pecks a kiss, her tongue tapping against his mouth but not going inside.
“Hmmm,” she purrs quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. She feels his finger brush a nipple then several rub the breast. “Hmmm.”
“So different.” He whispers. She knows he is comparing her breasts to Joan’s flat chest.
“That feels nice.” She glances towards Paul talking to Joan. They are completely distracted. She lets her lips touch his again, this time her tongue slips inside his mouth slightly. He cups her short thigh stump, massaging, and she slips the tongue back and forth against his lips.
“Ah,” she hears him grunt, assuming he is complaining.
“Sorry,” she whispers pulling back slightly, his hand remains on her thigh stump then sliding between the thighs. It wasn’t a complaint. “Honey,” she coos, pressing her forehead against his chest. “Oh, baby-y.” His fingers press though the folds of skin, touching her bud peeking from the hood. “Oh, oh,” she quietly pants.
She presses against him and looks past his shoulder. Joan is kissing Paul, though it is impossible to tell who began the kiss. Regardless, they are well beyond a simple peck on the lips. Joan’s hand is stroking his member softly, probably hoping for more than a mutual hand job.
“If you don’t mind them,” she teases before taking his mouth with hers for a moment. “They’re ‘busy’.”
“I’m so lost in you, I don’t care.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.”
He lifts her by the buttocks and lowers her onto his shaft. She sinks the full length in a single motion then wraps the leg about him, letting his hands move her up and down. She feels his stump rubbing her bottom.
“Geez, man-n….” She moans, teeth against his neck.
“Yeah, you’re quite nice too.”
–
Pete and Susan work themselves up the wide cement steps at the shallow end of the pool. Her eyes often fixed between his thighs, just as his are on her – she smiles as she stands. A hand reaches for the chrome handrail curving up from a step and she feels him offer a hand against her waist. She notices Joan and Paul no longer sit on the patio or anywhere near.
“I won’t try and deny that wasn’t nice,” she whispers, standing at last. His hand feels as though it should be on her waist, and she smiles again at him.
“It probably shouldn’t have….”
She puts two fingers across his lips to silence him. “No, it was good. I wanted it as much as you did.”
He nods, leaving his hand against her waist a moment longer. He glances around and notices the same thing she had, without care. “They….” he begins, knowing the answer.
“We teased about this before we ate. Don’t worry.”
“Do you think she’ll like him more than me?”
“And if he does, will that be a problem?”
“No,” he simply replies. A moment later he continues. “Paul has money to give you…a future.”
“I know. But you know what?” She smiles, rolling her lower lip between her white teeth, watching him shake his head. “You both want us, and we want both of you. I can see Joan and I trading back and forth.”
“Hmmm. Really?” His hand slides up and down her side eventually finding the short stump of her thigh.
“When I suggested we all meet, he as much said that. I told him it would make me happy.”
They walk inside after drying each other. Leaning against the kitchen island, sipping freshly poured whiskey, they hear the loud moans and screams of Joan echoing though the long hallway.
“Do you think she has one or both feet behind her?” Pete quizzes before clinking the glasses together then taking a sip.
“Ah, both.”
They chuckle and let their eyes wander over the other’s body.
–
Joan rolls to one side letting her feet come free of her back. Paul regains his breath while watching.
“Wow-w,” he drawls.
“Yeah, man. You rocked my world. I might trade models.” She laughs.
“Maybe the trade-in doesn’t have to be permanent.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you notice your sister with Pete?”
“Yeah, sure. They were making like bunnies out in the pool. So?”
“This house is plenty big. There is a second master suite not used. Pete could have that one, me this one.”
“Hmmm. I’m liking the sound of this. Do you think she’ll go for it?”
“I do think so, but will you?”
“My legs?”
“When you want…one now the other later, or both now. It’s up to you.”
–
After dinner, Paul necks on the couch with Joan, feeling everywhere. Their lips lock together for a while and eventually he reclines, pulling her along side.
“They won’t care,” Susan coos to Pete, her hand dragging suggestively down his chest.
He pulls her tight against him, his stump between her thighs, massaging her towards a climax. “Let’s find the other bedroom.”
On the bed, he lies back, waving the stump about slowly. She sits and curls her foot around his shaft then begins to stroke. “I used to pretend I didn’t have arms.” The stroking continues and she listens to his sounds. She spreads the big toe enough to let the shaft slip into the space, still moving along the warm skin.
“None?”
“Yeah. I could write and do a few things.”
“Hmmm.”
“Which excites you more?” She rubs the big toe around the ridge of the head.
“Both, but not having the other leg most.”
“Uh-huh. I can still pretend with the arm.” She leans down and takes him in the mouth for a moment, wetting the shaft before continuing with the foot.
“Where have you been?”
“Hiding in your dreams.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Goodnight,” Joan calls from the other side of the door.
“I don’t think they are going to sleep,” Pete teases.
“Neither are we.” She moves and finishes him off using just the arm stump along the underside of the shaft.