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Guest House

Category: Fetish
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Marci quizzes, ‘Stilettos or pumps’. A black running shoe dangles from two fingers. She had always preferred stilettos because of the way they highlighted the shape of her legs. Even the shorter heel of a pump had been nice, and not hurt her feet as much. Since the amputation, just about anything without heels felt better and offered more stability on one leg.

She carries the left pump back to the overstuffed chair by the bed to sit and put it on. The stockinged leg and foot extend so she can admire it. “Yes,” she says aloud, standing and adjusting the crutches under her arms. The reflection in the tall dressing mirror is now more familiar – the new normal. She twists and turns examining the woman with one leg from every angle. Most of the one leg is nicely visible, the other side of the dress with nothing extending beneath.

Her brother and his wife had asked her to visit and spend time relaxing by the pool while she recovered. Men had lusted over her shapely legs. She thinks about how the plural sound was now lost forever and possibly along with men. Kevin sure was gone in a heartbeat. Would there be others?

She lifts the hem of the dress gradually until the rounded shape of the legless hip reveals itself next to the fabric patch of the black thong. She had tried and given up on other styles of panties because there wasn’t enough ‘hip’ to fill the elastic of the leg hole. Two fingers drag over the front of the thong, pressing into the opening beneath, rubbing hard until a soft moan flows from her mouth.

The scars, no longer angry red lines, have begun to fade into pale ones. The initial pain is gone too. She rubs a palm over the hip, front to back with no thigh in the way. She rubs back in the other direction enjoying the ‘new hip’, the way it feels, and the way it looks.

Jeff had been in town for a week – new job, a new life. The motel room at the Sands was a hundred a week. There was no beach, no sand, anywhere near. He wondered how motels got names that had no relationship to the location. The walls were paper-thin and the nightly entertainment consisted of a headboard in the neighboring room rhythmically banging the wall with sounds of ‘oh baby, oh baby’ from a prostitute and her line of customers. He had seen her a few times, not a looker, and he had never been tempted to be a patron.

Each day he would spend five hours at work and the rest of the day looking for a place to live. At the low-rent diner a block from the motel while having breakfast, he would circle rental ads. Now he had seen all the ones close to the office.

Elmhurst is a large town, mostly flat with a range of rolling hills to the east. Roads from there into town are reasonable and he considers exploring housing possibilities in that area. The ads are few and usually out of his price range.

“Lookin’ for a place?” the waitress asks, still holding the coffee pot after refilling his cup.

He looks up at the chubby older woman in a pale-green waitress uniform. “Yeah. I’ve just about exhausted the stuff near work. Maybe I’ll look up in the hills.”

“That’s just rich folk, wouldn’t want to discourage you though.” She laughs and leaves.

He circles a few more ads then goes to work. At least there is a lot of eye candy there, something unusual and unexpected. Two women look like they stepped off a page of a Victoria Secrets catalog – tall and willowy with wonderful legs and high-heel shoes. Lois likes to wear skirts exposing half her thighs or more. When she bends over, the rounded cheeks of her ass threaten to peek out. He dreams of her each night, too bad she wears a wedding ring. The lucky bastard had better appreciate her.

Julie, prettier than Lois if that is possible, loves wearing stockings. The other day she wore a black pair with a line up the back. When she sat with her legs crossed, he could see they were thigh-high with a dark band of lace at the top. He found it more than exciting. Maybe she was only teasing and taunting him, after all she wore an engagement ring. Another lucky bastard had won.

“Morning,” Julie coos, her voice more suggestive than normal.

After a moment of fantasy that she is whispering that in his bed, he smiles. “Always nice to see you.” He studies her legs finding taupe stockings and black stilettos. His mouth gapes open.

“Too much?” She responds in a teasing way, leaving a big smile across her wonderful lips. She snickers. “Having lunch with my soon to be hubby.”

“Lucky him.”

“Now, why would you say that?” She strikes a pose that highlights most every feature, fingers combing though her long blond hair.

“Just remember me in case something happens.”

“Why Jeff, I didn’t know you were interested.”

“So….” He clears his throat. “I’m expanding my search area for a place to live. Do you know anything about the stuff up in the hills?”

“Cool views and big homes. Some have guest houses.” She grabs the newspaper with circled ads and scans. “Here’s one. One bedroom, one bath, small kitchen, near pool area.” She chuckles. “Maybe the wife’s lonely.” She chuckles again, drops the paper, and walks away with a swish of glorious hips encased in a tight tan skirt.

He watches, letting the images become forever etched in his mind, thinking about how nice it would be have those legs wrapped around his waist for hours each night. ‘What would that feel like?’ he puzzles, almost aloud.

“Yeah, I agree.” Maggie pats his shoulder. “Lust in the heart.” She laughs.

Maggie has a butch look – short brown hair, thick and muscled everywhere, wearing black slacks and a man’s white dress shirt.

“Can’t help looking,” he mumbles.

“Got that right. If she’d trade teams…. If only.” She chuckles then walks away.

“How’s the hunt?” Jeff’s boss asks moments later. “I need you to start working full time next week.”

“Yeah, and I need a place to live. Closing in on something soon, I hope. There’s a hooker next door at the motel. Do you know what that’s like?” Jeff groans.

“Maybe you should….”

“Nah. She’s not good looking at all.”

Jeff leans against the car looking at the large villa styled house, probably five or six thousand square feet, probably just for two people. How do people afford homes like that without robbing banks? The grounds are manicured without a blade of grass out of place or longer than any other is. He looks around finding most of the homes similar, some larger. The view towards the town is spectacular with a slight breeze blowing though his hair.

He had called, but no one answered. The knock on the door goes unanswered as well. He walks around the side of the house and through the opened gate. A brick paved walkway leads past a hedge to a guesthouse. An opening in a hedge reveals the large pool with crystal-clear water. Several deck chairs line the edges.

A lovely, and naked, woman walks from the pool to one of the chairs without seeing him. Nothing escapes his lips trying to announce his presence. Dewdrops of water linger on her tanned skin as she sits, legs spread slightly enough to expose all that waits between. Her head leans back, eyes closed, as one hand cups a handful of breast and fingers of the other stroll between the thighs.

He watches, listening to the chorus of moans that begin. His pants bulge and there is no attempt to not look at her. What is her relationship to the house, he wonders. Though not quite as exciting as Julie or Lois, she is off the scale of lovely.

Her head remains back with eyes closed as she mutters, “fuck me-e, fuck me-e,” repeatedly.

He nearly trips, bumping the hedge enough to make noise. Startled, she opens her eyes and stops the pleasuring. When she stands, she slips a nearly transparent shier garment on. Why, he doesn’t know since it hides nothing he has not already seen.

She steps closer. “May I help you?”

Though he has a hundred answers to the question that may be different than she expects, he simply says, “I saw the ad for the guesthouse.”

“Probably not all you ‘saw’.” She chuckles, not giving any hint of being embarrassed about him watching her activity. “It’s a nice day, too nice to not swim naked.”

“Yes, wonderful….”

“Call me Carla. Let me show you the rental.” She wags a finger over her shoulder, beckoning him to follow. He does. “The last tenant just moved out.” She offers what the rent is and how much for deposits. “Is that too much?”

He feasts on her looks and she lets him. “Ah, ah,” he stammers a few times, still looking.

She touches the fabric over a nipple, rubbing slightly with a seductive grin. “You can use the pool.”

He fantasizes that she removes the garment and unzips his trousers. That they make love by the pool several times each morning after her husband leaves for work.

“No, that’s just fine,” he finally says.

She opens one of the French doors. He follows inside. “It’s furnished. I don’t remember if the ad said that.”

“Nicer than my furniture. I’ll take it.”

“Good. I was hoping you would.” Her hand slides down his upper arm. “My husband is away on unexpected business tonight. Would you like to join me for dinner? I’d thawed two steaks before he called.”

“I’d love too. I’m new in town and haven’t met anyone….”

“Great, it’s a date. Move your things in first and I’ll break out a nice bottle of wine. We can celebrate.”

His eyes continue to roam over her body, and even her face. He considers what to say and wonders what her husband is like, if he is big or a killer for the mob.

“Perfect. I don’t have much.”

Carla opens the door wearing an outfit that might have come from Lois or Julie’s closet and she looks inviting with the shier stockings and black high-heels. The light gray skirt reveals most of the legs he’d already seen and the near-transparent cream-colored blouse leaves no question about the lack of a bra.

“Wow-w,” he drawls.

“It’s nothing special.”

“Thanks for wearing ‘nothing special’.” He chuckles, following her into the kitchen.

“Hope I didn’t embarrass you by the pool.”

“Nope.” He decides to not say more.

“The privacy by the pool is one of the things that I liked when I first saw the house.”

“Have you lived here long?”

“A few years, since just after our wedding. Sam is a lawyer. You remind me of him.”

“I’d like to meet him.” ‘Yeah, but will he mind me fucking his wife?’

“The wine’s been breathing for a while. Go ahead and pour ‘us’ some.” She stands closer, brushing lightly against him as he pours the merlot. “Are you married or seeing anyone?” She clinks the glasses together then sips, her eyes luring him closer.

“Guess it is good I’m not.”

His lips touch hers. She offers no resistance to his lips or the hand over a breast.

She pulls back slightly, still against him. “Maybe I should start the steaks.” She peels herself away.

“Yes, I guess.” He sips.

He asks where the bathroom is and follows her directions. Dozens of framed pictures hang on the hallway hall. Many seem to be family members of both families. A few from the wedding and vacations are mixed in, no apparent order or groupings.

Walking back, he stops and looks again. Several pictures of a woman catch his attention. In some, she has one leg, the others both, probably a before and after remembrances of how she used to be before the amputation. The pictures are of her alone so there is no indication if she is part of the family or a friend.

“Great house,” he says returning and finding his glass refilled.

“Thanks. I always dreamed of living in a place like this when I was a little girl. I guess dreams do come true.”

“By the pool, I had a few.” He laughs then pecks an innocent kiss.

“I find you handsome….” She returns a peck then turns the steaks a last time.

“In the hallway, I noticed some pictures.”

“Friends and family.”

“All stunningly handsome or beautiful.”

“Great gene pool.” She chuckles.

“The woman with one leg….”

“That’s Marci. She’s Sam’s sister. The amputation was recent and she’s doing just fine. Beautiful, still, don’t you think?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“Have you ever known an amputee?”

She cuts the steak enough to see the color then drops one on each plate where baked potatoes already sit. A large bowl of salad sits on the island.

“No, but it’s on my list of things to do before I die.” He chuckles. “Oh, I hope that wasn’t insensitive.”

Without answering, she carries the plates to the table and he brings the salad, returning with the glasses and wine bottle.

“Really?” she finally asks sitting and crossing her long legs so that the tops of the thigh-high stockings show plus some of the thigh above them. One foot swings idly. “I had a friend with one leg when I was a girl. I used to bind my leg up and pretend I was like her. I’d swipe her crutches and walk around. She’d hop after me begging to have them back.”

“Do you ‘swipe’ Marci’s crutches?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but you have seen me naked.” She laughs. “I have my own crutches now. I still pretend.”

“Wow-w,” he drawls.

“Was that a good wow or a shocked one?”

“I’ve read a few stories about pretending to be an amputee. I guess I always thought of them as just fiction.”

“Nope. Nope.” She chews a bite of meat slowly, her eyes studying his face. She re-crosses her legs, changing which is on top. “Where they juicy stories?” She smiles, holding the empty fork near her lips for a moment before putting it down.

“There was fucking.”

“Oh-h, my, my. One of my favorite sports. Yours?”

“Yeah, but I’m out of practice. Have you read any of those kinds of stories?”

“Ha!” She finishes a bite of salad. “My hard drive is filled with them, along with plenty of pictures.”

“Hmmm, and my drive is hard.”

“Would you think it’d be a shame for me to lose one of my legs? I’ve noticed you lusting over them. I’d keep one for looks.”

“Not like you can just have an amputation, but in the interest of speculation….” He sips. “I guess if you ‘wanted’ it, that’d be okay. They are fantastic examples of legs though.” He sips. “I do have a thing for stockings and high-heels.”

“Sam as well. Glad you like that.” She finishes a bite of salad. “Now I know how to get your attention.”

“Swim naked and if my heart doesn’t stop, you’ll have my ‘full’ attention.”

“And probably a full erection.” She laughs.

“Yup. How often do you pretend? Does Sam know?”

“Yes he knows. Some days, I’m so on fire I can’t control my desires.” She laughs.

“Guess you have some competition now that Marci is missing a leg.”

“Uh-huh. That sure fuels my heat more than his. He doesn’t understand.”

“Too bad.”

He thinks it is just curious, like a fetish in the way you like stockings and heels.”

“Is it more than that?”

“Oh, hell-l yeah. If there was a surgeon, I’d be in his office the moment I knew he was willing.”


“There you go again.” She laughs. “I’m glad we’re having this conversation. I was wondering if the next tenant would mind. The others have acted as if I was crazy.” She sips. “Crazy! Can you believe that?” She watches his expression a long moment. “It wasn’t as if I paraded around without my leg. I kept that to myself inside the house.”

“How’d they find out?”

“With the last one, I thought he was at work. I happened to go for a swim without my leg. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” She laughs. “Embarrassed doesn’t quite cover how I felt. He yelled nasty things at me then said he’d move out rather than be around ‘someone like me’.”

“Did others find out?”

“Just one, a woman. She was cool with it, said she liked the look.” She laughs. “Why can’t everyone be like her?”

“Did she pretend?”

“No, damn it. I suggested it, offered her a pair of crutches. I have several pairs, but she didn’t seem interested in doing more than just watching.”

“And?” He laughs. “What happened to her?”

“She ran off to live with a woman missing a leg.”

He slides the chair beside her and rests a hand on her thigh. There is no objection as he softly rubs the top of the stocking. She closes her eyes, and makes a quiet moan.

“Which leg?” he whispers.

“Right, probably about where your hand is. Maybe higher up.”

He rubs higher, fingers dipping between the thighs. “Here?”


She uncrosses her legs, leaving the thighs parted. He rubs higher finding only bare skin, bare wet skin.

“Higher,” she moans.

His fingers are deep inside, drilling slowly. Her pleasure is obvious, moaning as no other woman. She grips his wrist firmly, helping his effort intensify. Her legs part more.

“We shouldn’t,” she offers, but not making any movement to stop.

“Oh, we must.”

“Just tonight.”

“Or as often as possible.” His lips take hers, her aromas drifting.

“Uh-huh-h,” she drawls.

The phone rings a few times, then stops. They continue without seeing who called. The phone rings again.

“It’s Sam, probably,” she groans, jerking his hand from between her legs. “Fuck, if I don’t….” She sucks one of his fingers then answers. “Hi, honey-y.” She coos, struggling to not sound like she had been having sex. Jeff listens, ready to return to the guesthouse unsatisfied. “No, no. I was out by the pool when I heard the phone.”

She holds a finger up suggesting it will be just a minute. Jeff stands and walks about the room then down the hall. He studies the pictures of Marci, the conversation in the background, considering the possibilities.

“Lucky lady,” she whispers in his ear, rubbing her chest against his back. A hand slips around his waist then over his trousers. “What do we have here?” She kisses his ear. “The bedroom is just down the hall a little farther.”

“Believe me, I want to….”

“Shut up,” she scolds. “Never turn down a fuck.”

“You’re the boss, my dear.”

Carla listens to Marci talk for a moment. “If I’m lying, I’m dying.” She laughs. “Yes, yes, his eyes drilled holes in your pictures more than once.” She listens. “You’ve been talking about a visit since the surgery. Now-w, you’ve got to come.” She laughs. “Yeah, in that way too.” She laughs, and then listens. “Yeah, thicker, and longer than Sam.” She listens. “Great! Love ya.”

Using crutches, she walks about on the lone barefoot, the other pressed against her hip with an elastic bandage wrapped tightly around the folded leg. She finishes putting the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and starting it. By the island, she pours another cup of coffee and sips.

Sam had made love to her several times last night, but since beginning the affair with Jeff, it had somehow not been as good. She still made an effort to act pleased, but he had never let her bind her leg up before sex. Jeff relished the idea, even suggesting it the few times she didn’t do it.

The coffee finished, her foot and leg begin to throb. She reluctantly unwraps it and hobbles to the bedroom to stow the crutches in her closet with the others.

Passing the bathroom, she grabs a towel and slings it over one shoulder as she walks naked to the pool.

Julie poses suggestively in the door to Jeff’s small office. The only reason he has it are the sensitive papers he works with need securing at night. He wags a finger and she closes the door behind her then sits with her legs crossed.

“Are you getting any from the landlady?” She swings the foot with a high-heel shoe idly.

“That’s a need to know kind of information.”

“What, my pay grade isn’t high enough?” She chuckles. “And here I wore your favorite stockings. I think they are. At least you stare harder when I wear them.” She slides both hands up along the lower leg as it stretches out.

“Ah, ah,” he stammers.

“It’s okay if you have a thing for stockinged legs. Mike, my hubby to be, does too.”

“You and Lois have great legs.”

“You know, people find the strangest things to be erotic. I was talking to someone who mentioned some men like chicks with one leg.”

“How’d that conversation start?” He chuckles.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you about this. Since we work together and all….”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t start telling me this and ‘just stop’.” He waves both hands towards himself. “Come on, spill the beans.”

“Well-l….” She rubs her lower leg as before, moving the foot at the ankle. “I was talking to this guy the other day when a woman with one leg walked towards us. I said ‘at least she has one pretty leg’. He told me that some men love women that are that way, but he wouldn’t.”

“Way?” he quizzes, acting as if it is a new concept.

“You know, missing a leg like this woman we had just seen.” Julie sighs. “Would you rather I have both legs or just one?”

“Hmmm.” He fakes rubbing his chin in thought. “I think you have some of the greatest legs in the world, but as long as you keep at least one, I’d be with you in a heartbeat. What red blooded fella wouldn’t?”

“Mike said he’d leave me. Do you think he only loves me for my legs?”

“Only you can answer that.” Jeff holds both hands up and shrugs.

“Well, I liked your answer.”

“Good.” He gives her a long look. “Say. You aren’t about to lose a leg, are you?”

She laughs. “No, silly.” She stands, adjusts a stocking revealing most of the thigh, then leaves.

Carla knocks on Jeff’s door wearing only a blouse and black thigh-high stockings plus red stilettos. His jaw drops when he sees.

“Sam’s away.” She chuckles, carrying a pizza box in one hand and pushing him farther into the guesthouse.

“I’m liking the sound of this.” He chuckles, taking the box. She closes the door and follows. “Leave Sam and we can find a surgeon to amputate the damn leg.”

“Now, I’m liking the sound of this.” She laughs, kisses him deeply, and then opens the box. “There’s a prenup and all the money is his. Man, oh man. There is just something about you…I’ve never found in a guy before. I don’t know if I can choose between the lifestyle and the leg.”

“Hey, I didn’t know I’d find you ‘and’ that you’d be interested in being that way. I was just pumped to see you naked that day.” He laughs, ripping a slice away from the others.

“There’s not a doc anyway.” She groans, leans back, and eats a bite.

“You never told me what happened with Marci’s leg.”

“An accident. Believe me, I’ve thought about such things.”

“Too dangerous.”

“For sure.” She chews. “It’s off at the hip.”


“Would you rather have me with two legs or her with one?”

“That’s hardly fair. I haven’t met her and I don’t know if you’ll leave what’s his name and have an amputation.”

She roars with laughter, almost blowing pizza out her nose. “Goddamn, I love you so much.”

“Yeah, maybe the gods will shine on me and I can have both of you with one leg.”

“Hmmm, let me see.” She rubs her chin. “How would that be a good deal for us? I mean, can you ‘service’ two horny ladies as often as we might need?”

“How often do you think?”

“At least several times a day. Each!” She doesn’t look up, but eats another bite. “And that would be on a down day.”

“On an up day?”

“I don’t know if I can count that high.” She snickers.

“Would it have to be ‘fuckin’? I mean…I could give you oral or use fingers…even a dildo.”

“Good point. I’ll consider that.” She rubs both hands along the upper parts of the right leg. “How much?”

“All of it. Uh-huh. All of it.”

“You know I asked Sam that once and you know what he said – I’ll leave.”

“A woman at work told me a similar story. She and some guy were walking along when they spotted a woman missing a leg. The woman at work has legs almost as fine as yours. She asked the guy how he’d feel if she lost a leg.”

“He’d leave her. Yeah, I suspect that is the case more often than not. Was this Julie? I think Sam is banging her, or at least ‘has’ banged her. Just so he doesn’t fuck other women…often….”


“The only reason I thought that was…. Never mind.” She wipes a tear from one eye. “I do love you, Jeff. You understand me.” She takes the last slice, holding it towards him. He shakes his head, holding a hand up. She eats a bite. “Did I mention Marci is coming for a visit?”

“No, no. When?”

“Next week. You two should have some sex so you can tell me what it is like with a one-legged chick. Something I probably will never get to experience. Being one legged, not having sex with a one-legged….”

“I get it. Have you ever talked to Marci about your ‘need’?”

“No. I don’t want to burden her. She’s dealing with her own loss.”

Carla strolls through the house with a leg bound, the alternating tapping of the crutch tips and hard sole of a high-heel shoe echoing off the hardwood floor. The loose fitting dress hangs past her knee.

“God, get a life,” Sam complains. “And don’t even think of doing that shit while Marci is here. She’s got enough problems to deal with.”

She stops in front of him, cups a hand over his crotch, and shoves her tongue deep into his mouth. She grinds, rubbing the growing erection for a while before jamming the hand inside the waistband.

“Don’t you think I’d be as hot as your sister?” She strokes his shaft, the grip squeezing tighter with each. “I bet her stump is hot, sexy. It would feel so good against your lips.”

“She’s my sis…..”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t had fantasies about her, before or after the surgery.” She rips at the snap and drags the zipper slowly down. “Would you still get so hard if I had one leg?”

He pushes her away. “You are totally crazy.”

“Honey, let me suck you and help you forget.” She pulls at the briefs.

“I have a headache,” he says, backing away.

“Hey, that’s ‘my’ excuse.” She laughs. “Do you really hate it so much that I pretend to be missing a leg?”

“I used to be able to ignore it, but….” He takes a few steps. “Since Marci’s surgery, I just don’t know. Go for a swim…or something.”

Carla stands naked in the special place by the edge of the pool so Jeff can watch. It isn’t the first time she performed for him, maybe not the last. She had told him for those evenings when Sam would be home and she could not be with him. The light in the guesthouse goes off, the signal he is ready. She fondles a breast, pulling it about her chest and sucking the nipples. The other hand reaches between legs spread wide and fingers dig deep. She nibbles her lower lip suggestively, wishing he were sucking her.

“How’s the hot landlord?” Julie quizzes, closing Jeff’s office door quietly and taking a seat by the desk. She scoots her hips forward with legs spread leaving her thighs exposed above the lace tops of the black stockings. The skirt snakes up more until a black thong begins to show.

“Why? Don’t stop, of course. I’m just curious about lover boy.”

“Asshole.” She sits upright and lets the dress fall down as she crosses her legs. “He told me about another girl…woman. We had a big fight.”

“This man you were with when you saw the one-legged woman, are you having an affair with him?”

“Guess so. He’s married.”

“Maybe he’d leave her then you and he could, you know, run off into the sunset.”

“I’d love that. All I know about her is he thinks she’s ‘crazy’ or some such. I don’t know.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Long enough to know I love him. I think he loves me.”

“Do you really think he might leave her?”

“I’m seeing him tonight. She thinks he is away on another business trip. I’m planning to see what he might do. God, I’m going crazy about him. I was already having second thoughts about marrying Mike. Guess it’s good this happened.”

She stands and takes a few steps. “Maybe there’s a chance for you.” She chuckles. “If it doesn’t work out with Sam. Thanks for listening.”

Julie stands at the cooktop stirring a skillet of scrambled eggs. She wears only a cropped white tee shirt and white pumps. She and Sam are taking a food break after hours of quality recreational sex. He leans on the island in a loosely tied robe holding a half empty glass of whiskey and staring at her hips.

“You could have that view all the time, you know.” She wiggles her hips without turning around.

“Tempt me.” He sips. “Is it really over, you and Mike?”

“That asshole. I was having second thoughts when he gave me the ring.”

“What happened?”

She scrapes the eggs on two plates and butters the toast. “I don’t know. Maybe I kept hoping, ah, you and I could be together.”

“Baby, that sounds like a ‘dream come true’.”

“Well, leave her.”

“That’d be so messy, and take forever.”

She carries the plates to the island, sliding one in front of him. “You could make it easy for her. Offer her a pile of money. You’ve got more than god.” She laughs. “Sam, I love your eyes on me, the way you stare at my legs and ass. I know you want me as much as I want you.”

“Remember that woman the other day, the one missing a leg? You don’t want to be like her, do you?”

“Heavens, what makes you ask that?”

“I shouldn’t air dirty laundry, honey.” He sips. “I just am curious.”

“I’d do anything for you. Would you want me to have a leg amputated?”

“No, no, never!”

“I would, if….”

“Forget I mentioned it. It was stupid to bring it up.”

“Good, they are my best features.”

“Darling, there isn’t a spot on your body that isn’t a ‘best feature’.” He chuckles then finishes the eggs. “I, uh, let me consider this.”

“No rush. I doubt the offer will be withdrawn anytime soon.” She chuckles. “Now, lets resume the bedroom games.”

Max sits the glass of Scotch in front of Marci then wipes the condensation drops from the bar with a white towel. He gives her a long stare, enjoying the way her nipples press against the white tee shirt tucked into the jean pants with the right pants leg wrapped around the hip without a leg.

“They are available,” she coos, returning the stare as she lifts the glass.

“I live for the nights you come in.” He leans against the bar on one elbow.

“Why me?”

“Beauty, fun to chat with. I’d love to get to know you.”

“But I have, ah….”


“Hmmm. Not the usual reaction.”

“I bet.” He walks away to pour drinks for other customers then returns.

“Why isn’t there someone in your life already?” she asks.

“Don’t know. Just haven’t found the right lady I guess.”

“What makes you think I might be?”

“Marci, I’ve seen you in a short dress with high-heels. Wow, wow.” He chuckles.

“Well, it is only a high-heel now.”

“Give me a try, I might be the ‘right one’ for you.”

She takes his hand, wrapping her fingers around it for a long moment. “I’d like that. I had planned to visit my brother and his wife, but I can put that off.”

“Oh, my, heart be still.” He laughs. “Lets have dinner tomorrow night. I have a few days off.”

Each day, Carla spends more time with her leg bound. In the past, it had been an occasional thing, maybe once a week or a few times a month. Thoughts of being like Marci are now constant and it doesn’t help that Jeff encourages the pretending. The sound of a single high-heel tapping on the hardwood floor as it swings between the crutches is like music to her, but grating to Sam.

“You look ridiculous, you stupid cow!” Sam scolds, sucking on the second whiskey in a short amount of time.

“If you are trying to hurt my feelings, you….”

“Feelings, you don’t have any. I have a good mind….”

“To leave me?” She roars with laughter. “Go ahead. Be with Julie. I don’t give a rat’s ass. Make me an offer and you can be free.”

“So it’s all about money.” He chugs the rest of the drink and pours more.

“It used to be about love.” She paces a few times. “I used to crave your body against mine. I lived for the nighttime. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that was before….” He waves his hand towards her. “All of this. Fuck! At least Marci had the balls to have her leg amputated. You’re too chicken to do that. Instead, you ‘pretend’.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know she didn’t have a frigin accident.” He chugs half the drink and pours more, beginning to slur his words.

“No, no I don’t.”

“Stupid bitch was like you. Wanted her goddamn leg amputated all her life. I never understood. I still don’t. What is it with you two?”

“Did she tell anyone else?”

“And have people think she’s a lunatic?” he laughs. “Hell, no-o.”

“Where’d she go, you know, to have the surgery?”

“Fuck if I know. Overseas somewhere, talk to her. You two would make a fine pair, parading around on one leg.”

“Do you hate me so much….” she wipes tears from her face, “that you’d rather be with Julie?”

He pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slides it across the island towards her. “Hate might be too strong. That’s my offer and it’s generous. You’ll have enough to not have to work…ever.”

“Who gets the house?”

“You can. I’ll move out soon. Tonight I’ll sleep elsewhere.”

“With her?”

“Do you care?” He listens but gets no answer. “I thought not. I’ll work on the divorce papers tomorrow. That much money and the house…nothing else.” He chugs the rest of the drink. “Enjoy.” He walks out the door.

Carla swims laps. The glow of the underwater light filters past her naked body as she turns at the deep end. Jeff sits on the edge, letting his feet dangle in the water.

“I saw him drive away,” he says.

She paddles towards him, stopping with both hands on his knees. She smiles then kisses his legs.

“Uh-huh, gone again.”

“I wish he wouldn’t come back. We could be so happy.” He slips into the water in front of her.


“I never thought I’d find someone that I could talk to about my feelings. You know, missing legs.” He chuckles. “Liking stockings and high-heels is easy to understand, but stumps….” He chuckles again.

“He hates that part of me, the pretending part.”

“It doesn’t have to just be pretending.”

“I don’t understand.”

He smiles. They kiss and fondle. “You do. You just won’t let yourself believe it is possible.”

“To have an amputation?”

He rubs her right hip then slips fingers around the top of the thigh. “Have it all off. Have nothing next to a single lovely leg.”

“You’re getting me excited. Just a warning.” She snickers, gripping his erection and rubbing it though her slit.

“Damn-n, what will we do?”

“Well-l?” Jeff quizzes Julie, standing by her cubicle.


He sits and leans close, whispering. “You know exactly what I’m asking. Is he going to leave her for you?”

“Sounds like they are splitting. He hasn’t popped the question to me yet. I’m hoping.” She grins.

“That’s great news.” Carla had told him the new last night, but he wasn’t ready to let Julie know he is seeing her.

“I think so. He’s going to stay at my place for now. I think she’s getting the house. I kind of wanted it.”


“Palatial, with a secluded pool of course.”

“You could swim naked.”

She laughs. “And fuck,” she whispers.

“Hey, it’s Carla,” she says when Marci answers the phone. She wears nothing other than a pair of stilettos and leans against the island, one hand stroking the sides of a glass of whiskey.

“Sounds like something’s up. Sam called, all upset and happy at the same time.”

“Uh-huh. We’re divorcing. He has a new girlfriend.”

“He didn’t tell me much more than that. Are you okay? I can come and spend time, talk about things.”

“I’d like that. It might be easier face-to-face.”

“I’ve had a few dates with a new guy, Max. He is a bartender. I love his rugged looks. I might be in love.”

“That’s great.”

“He doesn’t seem to mind my missing leg either.”

“Wow, sounding like a keeper.”

“Listen, he works the next few nights so maybe I can catch a flight tomorrow morning.”

“Whenever. I can’t wait. Haven’t seen you since the amputation, so you can tell me all about what it is like to have one.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, sure.” She sounds puzzled. “I didn’t know you….”

“Ah, just curious.”

“Okay. I don’t mind talking about it. It’s not so bad having one leg.”

Carla fingers between her legs faster. “Can’t wait.” She hangs up quickly before the orgasm takes over.

“Nice to see you have luggage,” Julie tells Sam, rubbing against him. “How long this time?”

“In years or lifetimes?” He chuckles, putting the bag down by the dresser.

“You’ve got my attention.” She laughs, gripping between his thighs.

“It feels strange to think about.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“But I can’t stay with her. She wants things I don’t, things I will never understand.” He groans. “Bitch. I thought my sister was the only one.”

“Huh? Marci, the sister with one leg, right. What about her?”

“I’ve said too much. It’s supposed to be her secret and I have no right telling anyone. Sorry.”

“Hmmm. Want me to un-dress up?” She chuckles. “What, some thigh-highs and heels? I know how that takes your mind off things.” She steps away. “Black, white, or taupe?” She rummages in a drawer. “Panties or not?”

“Need an app for my iPhone.” He laughs.

“Call it ‘Dress Sexy’ and make another fortune.” She pulls two light black thigh-highs with seams out of the drawer then a black lace thong.” She rubs them over a naked breast. “Hmmm, does it for me.”

Jeff pats the fluffy white towel down Carla’s body still wet from the swim. He kisses places before and after a pat, especially between her thighs. “Heard from Marci?” He rubs a finger around the top of a thigh like a saw.

“Yeah, to see if she’d heard about Sam leaving me. She wants to visit for a day or so. Help me get over my ‘loss’.” She laughs. “Do you think you can handle having her here in person?”

“Maybe, but can you?” He chuckles. “You should dig for info about the amputation.”

“Brother, I plan on it. Sam made a strange comment….” She stops suddenly. “Maybe I dreamed it.” She realizes until she knows first hand from her, anything said about Marci wanting the amputation is just Sam’s rambling, probably something to just dig under the skin and probably nothing more.


“Nothing, forget about it.”

He kisses a line around the top of the thigh and over the buttock. “Someday, this’ll be a beautiful stump that we both can worship.”

“I love the sound of that. I really do.”

“I’m just happy to have you next to me at night. You know that, right.”

“Uh-huh.” She sucks the tongue from his mouth in a long passionate kiss.

“Look at you-u,” Carla drawls, pulling back from the first hug of Marci. “I wish I could look as nice.”

“Honey, I’ve always thought that at about you. I’m just an ugly duckling next to you. Sam said so.”

“Well, he doesn’t have good judgment. Come in. Let’s put your bag away.” She leads her though the house to a guest bedroom.

“I can only stay one night.”

“That’s better than none. Tell me about Max.”

“My age, a stud, works at one of the bars I go to. He’s only known me with one leg….”

“So he’s not like Kevin.”

“Oh, hell-l no. I swear, sometimes I think Kevin and Sam were twins.” Marci strokes Carla’s arm in a friendly way. “I don’t want to sound like an alcoholic, but do you have any whiskey?”

“That sounds good to me. Who cares if it’s only ten in the morning? We can get naked and go out by the pool, get drunk, and catch up.”


“Darling, you have nothing to hide from me.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” She chuckles then undresses. “In all its glory.” She waves a hand past the stump.

“Damn-n, it’s heeling nicely.” Carla kneels and touches the stump, gently at first then rubs a hand over it.

“Do you give stump massages too?” She laughs, letting her continue rubbing.

“Could be.” She snickers. “Let’s get two glasses and a whiskey bottle.” Carla undresses and piles her clothes with Marci’s on the chair by the bed. “Bring that stump, will ya?” She laughs and walks towards the kitchen.

“Just the stump?” Marci laughs, following. “Feels wicked walking around naked.”

“That too shall pass. I love being alone so I can be a nudist.”

They stroll casually out the French doors, along the brick path to the pool area. The sky is blue without a cloud and the weather warm without being too hot. They sit on the edge of the pool with feet in the water.

“To Max,” Carla toasts, clinking glasses together.

Marci clinks again. “To being free of Sam and being yourself.”

They sip in silence several times, sneaking peeks at the others body.

“You’re right, I’m starting to relax about being naked.”

“So glad. I love your body. It is quite a nice sight.”

Marci blushes.

“Not in a lesbian way.” Carla chuckles. “I just think you have a sexy body.” She rubs a hand over the stump. “Do you mind having this? I guess it isn’t like you can choose to have a stump.”

“No, I don’t ‘mind’. That feels nice when you rub it.” She leans to one side so the legless hip rises slightly off the concrete. “You don’t have to stop.”

Carla rubs firmly, moving the soft fleshy stump about. “Interesting,” She whispers, continuing to massage.

Marci repositions herself so she is facing Carla with the stump on top. “There, you can get to it better.”

Carla begins massaging again, this time with both hands letting them rub over the stump and buttock.

“Oh-h, yeah-h. Hmmm, good.” Marci closes her eyes and softly purrs.

“I may not be able to stop.”

“Don’t feel a need to stop, ever.” She is quiet for a while, other than mews and purrs. “We could get you one of your own.” She snickers. “So you would have something to massage.”

“Believe me, I just might want one. This feels exceptionally nice.”

“Uh-huh-h,” Marci drawls, closing her eyes again.

“Had you ever known someone missing a leg or wondered what it was like?”

“Yeah. A woman in the neighborhood when I was a kid had one leg. I don’t know why then or now, but I thought it made her look pretty.” She becomes silent and moans. “A few times I stuffed a folded leg into my jeans and imagined I was like her.”

“Did you talk to her about what it was like?”

“All the time, once I finally gathered the nerve to ask.”

“How’d she lose it?”

“Her husband blew it off with a shotgun, at her request. I used to think that was odd, wanting to be missing a leg.”

“Didn’t they arrest him?”

“Nope. Everyone though it was just a tragic accident. She was happy and so was he. I guess it worked out well for them.”

“Did she have any regrets?”

“None. He died a few years later in a car wreck and she had a line of suitors, but never married again.”

“Maybe I’m out of line asking, but did you, ah, ‘want’ this?”

“I need you to keep a secret. Promise?” She waits until Carla nods a few times. “Yeah, I wanted it. I wanted it more than life. Some people are unhappy with an aspect of their body. You know, gender, shape or size of breasts. Stuff like that. For me, it was having my right leg.”

“How? Did you just ask your friendly surgeon?” Carla laughs.

“Kind of. Not always, but sometimes there are doctors willing to help. I found one and a few weeks later had the surgery.”

“Did he ask lots of questions?”

“No, she didn’t.” Marci sits, sips several times. “Why the interest?”

Carla sips, but says nothing.

“Do you want to be like this, is that what happened with Sam? I know he ‘hates’ the idea of someone wanting to have a leg amputated. He caught me pretending once and yelled all kinds of nasty and hurtful things. That’s why I rarely visit him.”

“More like never.”

“Yeah. I saw the pictures on the wall of me. I’m surprised he even put those up.”

“I made him, especially the ones following the amputation.”

“Because you want one?”

“Uh-huh. Can you put me in touch with her?”

“Oh, honey, sure thing. It’s easy, other than a twelve-hour flight.” She groans. “I was up the next day, but sore. Stitches were out after ten days. No problems except for relearning how to do some things.”

“You must be Marci,” Jeff says, wearing swim trunks.

She looks startled. Carla explains he is the tenant in the guesthouse and her lover. She relaxes, sipping a refreshed glass of whiskey.

“Sounds you might have a girlfriend with one leg,” Marci says before taking another sip.

“Good god, I hope so.”

Carla quizzes, ‘Stilettos or pumps’. A cream-colored pump already adorns her foot, but that could still change. Even after the amputation, high-heel shoes thrill her as much as before. She studies the woman in the tall dressing mirror enjoying the ‘new normal’. Wearing only a white thong and a light-gray thigh-high stocking with a lace trim at the top, little of her appearance hides from view. A hand teases the stump of the right hip, now without a thigh. The scars long healed, just faded white lines.

She turns to one side exposing the hip more to the mirror. Fingers press the front of the thong then slip inside. Arousal had never been a problem, now it is constant.

“Hey, babe,” Jeff coos, pressing against her back, a hand about to touch the stump, the bulge inside his trousers hard between her cheeks.

“Hmmm,” she purrs, slipping her hand between them. “What’s that?” She chuckles.

“Marci and Max will be here in a few minutes.”

“Okay-y, I’ll finish dressing.” She groans. “I’d rather throw you to the floor and ravish your delicious body.”

“Later. I promise.” He laughs. “It is nice having them living in the guesthouse.”

“I’ve noticed neither of you guys seem to mind having ‘two’ one-legged women around.” She sits on the bed and slides the cream colored dress over her head then stands to let it fall just past her hips. “Will this be okay?”

“It hides too much of you.” He laughs. “For dinner, it will be ‘okay’.”

“Maybe for dessert, the four of us can skinny dip.” She snickers, a hand rubbing the front of his trousers.

“Wow-w,” Marci drawls, walking into the bedroom. “Maybe I need to change…again.”

“That’s the third outfit she’s tried on in the past half hour,” Max says, a hand rubbing her back.

“I just hope I don’t rip out my zipper,” Jeff says. “Did you ever imagine in your wildest dreams you’d be standing here, feasting your eyes like this?”

“Talk about dreams!” Carla says. “I owe you and Marci so much.”

Marci laughs. “I had lunch with Julie the other day.”

“What’s up with her?” Carla asks. She looks at Jeff. “I haven’t heard you talk about her lately.”

“She stopped working there once she hooked up with Sam.” He looks at Marci. “Is Sam still pissed off that you and she are becoming friends?”

“Yeah. He’s afraid my cooties will rub off and she’ll lose a leg.” She laughs. “She actually offered to do that if he wanted.”

“Fat chance he’d want that,” Carla groans.

“Uh-huh. He barely speaks to me. That’s okay. She actually was curious about what it is like to be missing a leg.”

“Really?” Jeff asks. “You know, there were a few times we talked at work that I wondered if she wanted that.”

“So, is she?” Carla quizzes.

“Time will tell.” Marci laughs. “For now, my stomach demands food. Let’s go eat.”

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