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Sling

Category: Fetish
06.04.2020
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I grab the headboard and roll onto my side. My complete lack of legs affords me little in the usual ability once done with ease. Pushing against the sheet until upright, I look around the room.

“Morning Yae,” Mark says matter of factly as returns from the bathroom. Pausing by the balcony door, he watches the surf crash against the white sands and the luscious bikini clad women strolling casually through the remains of the waves receding back where they came from.

Still undressed, I swing myself onto the cushion of my wheelchair and roll beside him. My hand strokes his thigh and across his hip. “You wish I was still like them, don’t you.”

He continues to watch the women, probably even the same one I watch – the one with a black thong bottom against nicely tanned skin. Her firm young breasts overflow the matching top. He sighs and I understand his answer. It has been coming for a while and I have struggled with the thought he will leave me. I had hoped this weekend at the coast would help. We had even arrived separately so we could pretend it had been a chance meeting filled with wild passion.

There had been talk for months before my trip for the amputations about why. He never ‘got’ my need to take such drastic action. The fact that I had to make the trip to Bangkok alone told me that the relationship wasn’t going to last. After my return, he made love to me twice, almost begrudgingly, as if a duty, and not because he wanted me. He didn’t even bother to kiss me everywhere as he used to love to do, as I loved him to do.

My hand rubs softly over the back of his boxers and inside the leg opening as I think about how I had taken to satisfying my own needs, and how he might never be inside of me again.

“It’s over, isn’t it?” I quiz as a tear forms. Emotions are uncontrollable and the floodgates soon open. I roll away and begin to dress, not wanting to hear the answer. He stares straight ahead in silence.

I fluff the empty piece of my short skirt in front of me and wiggle to get comfortable on the cushion before asking again. Still there is no answer. Pausing briefly at the door, I turn the chair towards him. “Sorry.” The tears blur everything. The door clicks shut behind me and I roll towards the elevator.

As I stow each wheel then the chair into my car, I consider what to do next. A successful author for a dozen years, I can write anywhere. I have money.

The wind blows though the open car widow as I pull away from the hotel parking lot. I think about how I enjoyed the few weeks in Bangkok, I had been born there of Thai parents. After moving away, I had kept my name, both first and last – Yae Cowen. My features had been one of the things that had attracted Mark to me. He loved short, slender, Asian women. I was like that. I still am, just I have no legs.

Jen, the wife in the apartment next door, and I are casual friends and have coffee once a week for ‘women talk’, sometimes more often. I’d confided about the growing distance with Mark, but not the truth about my legs. She, like other women I’d known, was unhappy with her husband. We’d hugged, kissed, necked some, and on occasion, we did more. Now she helps me fill a few boxes and store them a rented storage unit, throw other things in the garbage. I am not a ‘collector’ of things. It only takes a few hours.

I laugh aloud as I think about the lack of shoes, socks, and stocking or even pants or jeans I’ve packed as I wave backing out of her driveway. I had promised to write. I will.

Heading west towards the ocean, traffic is light for the next few hours. Sleep and hunger eventually overtake me as night quickly fills the sky. A restless night in a crummy motel after a crummy meal does little to change that. Breakfast is not much better, but I feel free.

Driving north for most of a day, the shore changes from flat sandy beaches of brown sand into rough rocky cliffs with waves crashing up high in loud pounding surges. The road winds and twists though dense forests. Daylight is fading and I am tired as I leave the small village of Sea Crest. Ahead on the left is a sign for a bed and breakfast. I question if it is accessible. Usually they aren’t. I even drive past without checking. At the last moment, a wheelchair ramp up to the large wide veranda of the older two-story Victorian home becomes visible. A few dormer windows peak from the steep roof as though there may be a third story. I make a hasty u-turn and pull into the parking area.

The ramp has a shallow slope and it is easy to make my way to the large front door. Inside, there is no counter, but rather a wooden desk in a parlor. A fireplace with a small fire crackles nearby. The man sitting behind the desk looks up and smiles a welcoming smile. “We officially closed for the season yesterday,” he says. “I haven’t put up the sign.” My frown and disappointed look prompt him to say, “I can give you a good rate on a good room if you don’t mind that we won’t be serving any meals.”

“That would be great. I was hoping to stay for a few days, maybe a week.”

“I can do that.” He hands me a sheet of paper laminated with clear plastic like a menu. Each room has the name of a famous author – Melville, Hawthorne, and so on. He sees the expression on my face. “It seemed like a good idea once.”

“I’m an author. It’s cool. Which room looks out to the ocean? I was hoping the sounds of the surf might inspire my writing.” I laugh.

“That would be the Melville. The Thoreau looks out to the large trees.” He chuckles.

He is missing his right hand. With the other, he pushes the registration form towards me. I say nothing as I write.

“All of the downstairs rooms are wheelchair accessible including the bathrooms,” he casually remarks.

It is something I just assumed. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have offered me a room I could not get into. “Remarkably nice,” I say as I push the form back. “So many B&B’s aren’t.”

“When I bought the place and turned it into an Inn, it seemed like a good idea … like the names for the rooms.” He laughs. “I rarely get anyone that needs that.”

“I’m glad I can make it worthwhile.” I smile, wondering if there is more that he is not telling me.

He carries my bag and laptop from the car and shows me down a hallway to a large bedroom with the bath off to one side. A queen bed covered with a white quilt is against one wall. Pushed against another wall is a desk, a window looking out to the ocean is centered over the desk. Next to the desk is a wide door that opens onto a veranda. A large fan hangs from the high ceiling, the blades now still for the season.

“This is wonderful. I love the wallpaper and decorations. All of the right period.”

“My room is down the hall, number seven, if you need anything.” He points with the handless arm. “I usually close up about eight.”

“Maybe I’ll go back towards town. I saw a cafe. I’ll be back before eight.”

The cafe door slams shut behind me and a metal bell jingles. A single person, a large woman, sits at a table in the center of the room, eating. The fabric of her worn dress stretched tight so that every roll of her body shows. The waitress suggests I sit anywhere and hands me a menu.

“Hey!” the large woman yells. “No use eating alone.” Her hand waves me towards her. Reluctantly, I go in that direction.

Pushing a chair out of the way, I park my wheelchair. She studies me intently. “You’re ‘not’ from around here, are-e you?” she says in a voice with a strong accent, American south I guess, but say nothing about it. “Dottie’s the name,” she roars in a loud voice.

“Yae,” I say softly, wondering if she understands what I’ve said. I consider spelling my name for her, but don’t, instead just offer a smile.

“Hamburger, fries, Coke,” I tell the waitress. She shakes her head and mentions they only have Pepsi and ice tea. I frown and order ice tea. Happy with my order, the waitress leaves.

“Commies,” Dottie whispers. “Not serving Coke ah-h Co-la-a should be a crime. It is back home in Atlanta.” She forks a large bite of apple pie into her mouth then some vanilla ice cream. I watch her full mouth move as she chews. “Where ‘you’ from?” she says, drawing the word ‘you’ out as she swallows.

“I was born in Bangkok.”

“Bang Cock-k … that always sounds so nasty.”

I am tempted to correct her, but know it will be futile. Anyway, she continues before I can say anything.

“Gus, up at the Inn, I suspect that’s where you’re staying since you’re crippled and in that wheelchair, well he was going to marry some Asian woman … Ping, Pang, names all sound the same to me. Only she didn’t want to marry anyone. She was in a wheelchair. No legs, just like you. She went to some foreign country and had them cut off ’cause she wanted it done. Ain’t that the queerest thing?”

I was already pissed at the woman, now my rage is uncontrollable. The waitress puts the oval shaped red basket containing my food in front of me, trapping me for a while longer in the company of the dreadful person. I eat in silence, occasionally glaring at Dottie.

“Ah, did I say anything wrong?” Dottie eventually asks with a shrug of both shoulders. She pushes her empty plate away and dabs at her lips with the napkin leaving a smudge while I do not feel compelled to mention.

“I guess you don’t realize how offensive a pig you are!” My voice is louder than expected and Dottie lets a harsh grunt escape her mouth followed by some remark I think has to do with me going back where I came from. I am so angry I no longer hear anything she says. The waitress storms over to see what is wrong just as Dottie waddles towards the door.

The door slams shut and the waitress says, “You told her good … ’bout time someone did.” She angrily grabs Dottie’s ticket and money. “Dinners on me tonight.” I glance at the nametag – Renee. She chuckles then walks into the kitchen.

My stomach is upset, but full, as I roll down the hall to my room. A light filters under Gus’s door and goes out as my door opens. Soon the glow of my laptop screen bathes my face as I read the last few paragraphs written days ago. My mind, cluttered from Dottie, seems unable to find new words to write. Closing the computer, I sigh.

The trees bend slightly from the offshore wind and the full moon passes the zenith illuminating the area behind the Inn. I remove my clothes to rid myself of the greasy aroma of the cafe and pull on just a man’s sleeveless white undershirt.

A rear veranda faces the ocean and the boards creak as the wheelchair wheels roll over them. There is no ramp off as there is in front. It is too far to the bottom step and the ramp would be too steep. I park and listen to the surf crashing far below the cliff.

The cool breeze makes me consider going back inside to change into a sweater, but a door closes and Gus sits on a bench nearby. “This is why I bought the place … nights just like this.” His voice is soft, soothing.

“I could live here forever,” I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

The distance between my chair and the bench remains and we separately watch the moon and the ocean.

“I had the ‘joy’ of meeting Dottie,” I say with a large dose of sarcasm.

“Bitch,” he says harshly under his breath. We sit in silence for a few minutes. The lights of a freighter travel south. A small patch of fog briefly obscures the ship’s lights. “I suspect it was ’cause of her that Ming moved away.”

“It sounds like she was in a wheelchair.”

“Yes. She was missing both legs … not when we met, but later. She was a dream woman, beautiful like you.”

“Thanks, you’re sweet to say that.”

“It’s true. Where are you from?” He leans back and crosses his legs.

“Bangkok. I moved from there when I was young. My parents moved back when I started college. There were some hard feelings.

We begin another period of silence and I roll closer, leaving my wheelchair parked facing him. He acknowledges what I’ve done with a large smile and adjusts his position on the bench slightly.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, looking at me more closely.

I move a little on the cushion and the undershirt works it way up on one side. I do nothing to pull it back into place.

He smiles and nods. “Her stumps were like that, well there was some thigh left,” he whispers softly and I almost don’t hear him. “I met her on a trip. We fell crazy in love. White hot sex….” He stops and covers his mouth with his stump. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I was in love like that not long ago. He had a thing for Asian women, you know, short, slender, long black hair.” I run my fingers through my hair a few times and model teasingly for him.

“Yeah-h. Makes me hot when you do that.”

“Mark got that way until I had my legs off. I thought he understood. He didn’t. Afterwards, we only had lousy sex, only twice.”

“God-d, I didn’t mind her afterwards. It fueled the fires … a lot. My hand was gone before I met her. She thought it was cool. She’d hold my stump like a hand when we walked.”

He stands then walks to the railing on the veranda and leans against a column. The stump rubs his lips a few times then hangs along side him. I roll closer, take the stump in both hands, and cuddle it.

“It’s a nice stump, you know.” I look up at him and smile.

“Yeah-h. Most people don’t understand.”

“What?”

“How a stump can be ‘nice’.” He chuckles. “For the longest time before, I dreamed about having it. She understood.”

“I do too.”

“It didn’t take long for Ming to confess her fascination with it. She told me about how she wanted to not have legs. We got her a wheelchair.” He stops and looks at me as if questioning should he continue. I nod. “We found her a doctor. I made sure she could get around in every room, at least the ones downstairs. I’d carry her upstairs sometimes. The view up there is nicer. I thought we’d never part.” He sniffs a few times and wipes his stump over the right eye.

“I understand … exactly.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I ‘had’ my legs off. I hoped he’d stay. He didn’t. Not having my legs was far more important.”

I rub my hand along the back of his thigh and over his hip a few times before holding his stump again. For a moment, he looks at me before leaning enough to kiss my lips lightly. I quickly return the kiss, rubbing the tip of my tongue against his lips. A warmth rushes over me and I tug at his arm stump while tipping my head towards the door to my room.

“Ah,” he mumbles, then follows.

“Leave the door open so we can hear the waves,” I tell him, as I move to the bed and begin pulling the undershirt up. He watches and I see a bulge forming in his trousers. I motion with a hand and he steps a little closer, unsure of himself.

“Gus, don’t you want too?”

“I still hurt.”

“‘We’ won’t soon enough.” I snicker, unbuckling the belt and ripping at the zipper. A second later the pants and boxers are around his ankles and the erection points at me.

“Baby-y,” I moan. “Great one.” I smile and peck a kiss at the large smooth skin over the head. Suckling the head and rubbing my hand over his balls, it swells even more.

“Arrg,” he grunts.

A healthy amount slips into my mouth. Lying back with a hand behind his head, legs draped over the edge of the bed, his stump rubs the small of my back. I shift my position so my hips are beside his face as I continue to rub my lips along his shaft. His stump rubs along my slit a few times before I feel his lips kissing there.

I awake with the early morning light and Gus is still asleep beside me. The back of his naked body curls nicely against mine. I savor its warmth as my lips kiss the base of his neck.

“Huh?” he grunts, not remembering where he is or that we slept together.

My arm slithers over his side and the hand roams his chest as my lower body rubs his hips.

“Morning darling,” I coo between kisses. My fingers curl around his erection and stroke a few times.

“Nice way to start the day.”

“What, better than jacking it yourself?” I snicker, but continue.

“Hmmm, not as good as having it inside you.” He twists against me and rolls me onto my back then slips easily in.

“Baby-y,” I moan as his long slow strokes begin. His mouth sucks my tongue into his and I relish the way his thighs drape past the rounded mounds that are my hips without thighs. The sloshing grows louder with each stroke, yet each pass is measured and patient.

“Where have you been?” He raises himself slightly on out stretched arms to look down into my face.

He rolls me onto his lap, still impaled, and stands, and then carries me around the room rocking me along his chest. “You’re so light,” he whispers into my ear as one hand holds my hips and the arm stump wraps my waist.

“Ah-h,” I moan. The sneaker orgasm overtakes me as do surprise waves that wash people out to sea from the beach. Never has anyone carried me while making love. The feelings are intense. “Ah-h,” I repeatedly moan as he casually strolls though the room. Out the back door onto the veranda we go, me still moving up and down his shaft. The cool ocean breeze washes over us and my climax peaks again, or begins anew. I am not sure which. Whatever is happening, it should never stop.

“Ah-h,” I begin repeating more rapidly and soon it is over. “Oh god-d, Gus … fantastic.”

“I surprised myself.” He laughs as he continues pumping himself inside me. He comes and it drains from me.

“I might make you carry me everywhere,” I tease.

He leans against a column, still holding me, and we share the view of the ocean. I peck a few kisses on his cheek and leave a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you provides these services for many of your guests?”

He laughs. “Only the beautiful legless ones.” He laughs again. “Are you up for sharing a shower?”

I am still slightly damp as he sits me on the bed and kisses the top of my head before standing and taking a long look. “Be right back,” he says and leaves. I move to my wheelchair and roll about the room to find clothes to wear then back to the bed to dress. A short black skirt and loose fitting light blue blouse with no under clothes leaves me presentable for the day.

“Hey-y,” Gus sings as he enters the room, dressed casually. He flips a canvas sling over his neck and shoulder. A big grin covers his face.

“What’s that?” I quiz, rolling closer then stroking his thigh.

He leans down and picks me up, pulling the skirt off and wrapping part of the sling over my hips. “So I can carry you.” He finishes adjusting it with me against him. My face is next to his and he extends his lips slightly.

“This is actually comfortable,” I say before accepting his lips. My hand rests on his neck. “Will you be my personal Sherpa?” I chuckle.

“If you want. I can’t believe how light you are.”

“Probably seventy pounds. I was only four-ten before….” I give him a slightly longer kiss. “Did you carry her like this?”

“Some. She was taller and heavier … she also didn’t like being carried.”

“It probably made her feel too ‘crippled’.”

“That what she said.”

“Well Gus, I think it’s sweet. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“We can try it around the house.”

“Would you want to carry me out in public?”

He gazes into my eyes for a moment and nods. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” He pecks at my lips a few times and we say nothing as he carries me to the kitchen. “I can make us some breakfast.”

“Hmmm, I can help. I feel like I’m grafted to you.” I laugh. “Maybe I’m twisted a little too much in the wrong direction to be of much help.”

He places me on a chair at the oak kitchen table and hangs the sling over the chair back. “Later,” he whispers.

I watch him step away and open the refrigerator, taking eggs and other ingredients out. “Scrambled or fried?” He asks, his back to me, as he puts the skillet on the gas cook top and twists a knob.

“Yeah,” I tease.

“That’s the way I like them too.”

Soon the toast pops up and the scrambled eggs slide onto plates. “Breakfast severed,” he proudly says as he puts a plate in front of me followed by butter and jam and cups of coffee. He sits at the side of the table next to me rather than across from me. I watch as he uses his handless arm to keep the toast from sliding around as he spreads butter and jam.

“Looks like you have the tricks all worked out.” I sprinkle pepper on my eggs.

“It was easy. I’m just glad now that I kept as much of my arm. I use it all the time. It’s amazing the things that you don’t think of before.”

I reach over and take his stump between both hands then hold it like it was a hand. “I’m glad you have this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah-h. It makes you who you are, it makes you unique.”

“Like you not having legs.” He looks intently into my eyes. “I couldn’t believe it when you rolled into the office yesterday.”

“I drove past thinking it wouldn’t be accessible, then I saw the ramp.”

We eat in silence, only glancing at the other and sometimes sipping our coffee.

“Maybe we can go for a walk,” I say. “I want to see the ocean and the woods.” I sip more coffee and push the empty plate away. “I want you to carry me in the sling.”

“I’d like that … a lot.” He finishes the last bite of toast. “I know it’s a little strange.”

“I don’t mind. Maybe I’ll let you carry me out in public.” I snicker.

“More coffee?” he asks as he takes the plates to the sink.

I hold my cup up and nod my head as I watch him wondering what I find in him that is so exciting. He is tall and lanky, maybe five-ten and one-fifty, older by at least ten years, his graying hair cut short.

“Here,” he says as he pours more coffee. I look at his soft warm face and smile. “Nice to have someone to share a meal with.”

“After Dottie….”

“Most around here aren’t like her. She blew into town a year ago and unfortunately stayed.”

“The waitress at the cafe didn’t seem to like her either.”

“Renee’s a doll. She and Ming became friends.” Gus shook his head a few times in apparent frustration mumbling something under his breath.

“Few people understand ‘us’,” I say.

“Ain’t that the truth?” He chuckles and finishes the second cup of coffee. “I suspect you will want to do some writing.”

“Uh-huh. I try to do a few hours a day. Sometimes I get started and the words just flow.” I finish my coffee and take his stump again. “I need you to carry me around for a while.” I smile.

He puts the sling over his neck and shoulder then sits me in it. “Where too?”

“Out by the cliffs … show me all the beauty you found here.”

He descends the five steps down from the back veranda to a path leading to the cliffs overlooking the ocean. I bob gently in the sling as my hand rests on his shoulder. His arm stump helps supports me a little, most of my weight is on the sling.

He stops by a large boulder and sits on the edge. The waves of the incoming tide crash below sending shards of water into view. Two large ships approach each other half a mile offshore. A cloud moves away from the sun and the world becomes a little brighter.

“Hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love this view,” I whisper to no one. My hand roams his neck, sometimes massaging, other times just feeling him.

“Kind ‘a the way I felt when I first saw it.”

“She couldn’t get past Dottie, that’s a shame,” I say as I turn slightly to face him.

“Your husband couldn’t get past your lack of legs.”

“Nope.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Not now.” I chuckle and peck at his cheek. “Do you miss Ming?”

“Like you said, not now.”

“Well, we’ve only known each other less than a day. For now, it seems quite nice. I don’t know what the future holds.”

We sit in silence and listen to the crashing waves and the pounding of our hearts. Occasionally we trade kisses and feel the other’s warmth against the cool ocean breeze.

I sit in my wheelchair and words magically form on the screen of my laptop. Mark continues to dissolve from my memories, quickly replaced by feelings for Gus. I consider how real they might be.

I hear his footsteps and then feel his hand rub my shoulder. “Do you want some lunch?”

“That sounds good. I need a break.” I reach my arms up his front like a child begging a parent to pick them up.

“Hmmm, holdie, holdie,” he teases. He returns with the slings and puts me in it.

“Gus….” I begin, but cut myself off, instead I give him a gently kiss on the cheek.

“What?”

“If she came back….”

“Ming’s not coming back … ever. Last I heard, she was living in Mexico with a rich woman.”

“A woman?”

“Yeah, lovers and all that. She didn’t keep that part of her a secret from me. Ming and Renee….”

“Didn’t you mind?”

“Ming and I had some good times. White hot times, you know.”

“Sure. After last night, I know-w.” I snicker.

“Well Dottie just couldn’t let that go. She was always ragging on them about being ‘queer’. I would have expected her to be more upset about Renee having her legs off.”

“She ‘did’ mention that!”

“Uh-huh. Dottie isn’t happy about much. I half expect people to run her out of town.” As he talks, he dances around the room and I bob and sway with each move. I twist around and hold his arm stump out as if we are waltzing. My head rests against his neck. “You’re a good dancer,” I whisper.

“Thanks. You are too.” He chuckles. “And you don’t step on my toes.”

“Good thing.”

We seemed to have skipped lunch, but woke up spent, naked, and pressed together on the bed in my room.

“Now that’s what I call a meal,” I tease as I again nibble his erection covered with our mingled juices.

“What can I say?”

“Just be quiet and let me have a little desert.” With each bob of my head, more of the shaft slips inside my mouth. I listen to him groan with pleasure and wiggle my hips in his direction.

His hand cups my hip and the arm stump rubs through my slit. I tease it and enjoy the touch as I bring him towards another climax. The pressure of his stump against my wet slit grows and soon the opening allows it inside. “Oh-h my-y,” I moan loudly as I push myself around it still sucking his shaft.

I can’t tell how deep it is, but I know several inches of his stump are in me and I relax to allow more. I hurry to finish his climax so I can watch what he is doing. My lips tighten and soon he floods my throat. I greedily swallow until there is no more.

“I want to watch.” The stump moves inside me. “Damn-n, Gus. That feels so good.” My head rocks back and my mouth gapes open as I gasp, taking in another inch.

“Let me get some KY.”

“Oh-h yeah-h.”

I spread the gel over his stump and up several inches before aiming it towards my slit and rubbing it against me as I recline on one elbow.

“Baby-y,” I coo. It slips smoothly inside. “So nice-e.” I lose track of how much is inside, several inches, maybe more, as it begins moving back and forth. “I … I like … it,” I moan as I watch the arm move for a moment in silence. “Does it feel good for you?”

“Yeah-h. Ming never liked this.”

“Fool. I sure do.” I watch for a moment then close my eyes. “It’s different than your cock … oh-h, oh-h yeah.” I watch again. “It’ll never get soft either,” I tease as I encircle fingers coated with KY around the stump and feel it move.

“Ah-h,” I begin panting repeatedly as the climax ravages all of me. My mouth dangles open with only short gasps coming out as his arm stump continues to fuck my slit several inches deep. At last I manage a few words that even I don’t understand as I pull his arm letting him know I am getting sore.

“So, did you like that?”

“Oh … Gus … remarkable,” I pant out the words slowly. I gather my breath and watch him lick my nectar from his stump. “Honey, I never knew how great that would feel.”

“Is it something you’ve thought about?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve read about it and about fisting. Fisting never sounded like something I could have done. Stumping….” I laugh.

I awake, feeling the gel covered arm without a hand pressing at my ass. Moaning loudly, I wiggle my hips trying to relax my anus and finally give him entrance. “Yeah-h … Gus-s … Yeah-h” I call into the pillow. He rocks the stump slightly, almost pulling it out before letting it be deeper. “Oh-h … god-d,” I groan, feeling for the first time something bigger than a cock in my ass.

I reach down and grip my mound and rub hard hoping a quick release there will aid his entry.

“Stump my ass,” I wantonly beg. “Fill me with it.”

“Feels good,” he says. I know, but I like to hear him say it feels good to him.

Now he begins to massage it in and out, a few inches at a time. My fingers grope my pussy, my clit, sometimes alone, often together. “Yeah-h baby, fuck my ass-s,” I scream into the pillow, the orgasm from my fingers overtaking me. I drag myself towards the headboard to pull myself off his stump and he understands.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he assures me.

“No. No, it is just fine. I don’t get much action back there.” I snicker. “We’ll do it more and I’ll adjust.” I sigh. “Oh god-d, that was….”

He returns from the bathroom from washing his stump, the large white towel rubbing vigorously over all from the elbow to the end. I rip the towel away and pull him on top of me, his erection falling into my pussy without help.

“Uh-huh, baby,” I coo into his mouth as my hands cradle his face. His balls slapping in time with each rugged thrust of his hips. “Take me….” I fall silent as his streams of cum roar deep filling all the space not taken by his cock. He continues, allowing grunts to blow over my mouth, until long after there is no more.

“You’re fun,” he says. His arm stump pushes some hair away from my face then the rounded end roams my lips. I peck kisses here and there.

“Yeah?” I quiz. “So are you.” I look into his eyes for a moment and smile. “I like you carrying me in the sling.”

“Really?”

“Darling,” I whisper then kiss his lips lightly. “I think you get off on it.”

“I confess, I do.”

“What if it was the only way I got around?”

“Your wheelchair….”

“Honey, carrying would be something you like, something I could give to you.” I take his stump in one hand and peck kisses over it as I rub a finger next to my lips. “What a great sex toy.”

“She never liked it used that way.”

“Do you like it?”

“Baby-y,” he groans. “Big time.”

“Well, give me time to get used to it. After all, it’s ‘huge’ compared to ‘most’ cocks.”

I sit at the desk on an office chair. In a closet, somewhere is my wheelchair. The laptop is on and I type as the words flow from my mind to my fingertips. I wear only a sweater to keep the chill of the day away, no panties, and no bra. It is liberating to dress this way. The curtain is open and the day gray and overcast. I hear the surf through the closed window and enjoy it as background noise.

“Gus,” I call as I hear his footsteps in the hallway.

“Yes.” He kisses my neck sweetly and rubs my shoulder.

“I need to pee.” I reach my hands around his neck and he lifts me. Cradled in his arm, he takes me to the bathroom and sits me on the toilet. “You’re such a nice ‘slave’,” I tease.

“Anything for a lovely woman without legs … well, not just any….”

I wipe myself and flush then reach for him to pick me up. “I understand. I just like having you carry me. It makes me feel so close to you.”

He kisses me deeply as he waltzes me in circles moving around the bedroom before placing me back in the chair by the desk.

“Maybe later I can abuse you sexually.” He chuckles.

“With that bad ole arm stump … any time big guy.”

He kisses me on the neck and leaves on the office chair so I can write.

It is dark as he walks from his older black pickup truck with me resting comfortably in the sling. The parking lot for the cafe is empty. I kiss him just before he opens the door.

“Thanks for carrying me.”

“My pleasure,” he replies just as the door slams shut and the bell jingles.

“Hey. Looks like things are working out,” Renee says then chuckles. “Dead here tonight. Sit anywhere.” She follows us to a booth by a window and unfolds the menus as Gus removes me from the sling and sits me on the bench. I slide over and he sits next to me.

“Nice not having my wheelchair out in the aisle.”

I take in her appearance anew. Older, medium height, slim, nicely shaped, and brown hair just past her jaw line. Her shapely bare legs dangle beneath a light blue dress that stops a few inches above her knees.

“The sling was Renee’s idea. She made it,” he tells me.

“Uh-huh. I was hoping that Ming would let us carry her.”

“Gus mentioned she didn’t like it. Boy, I do.” I laugh and pat his stump.

We quickly scan the menus while Renee waits then we order. “Get something for your self and join us,” I tell her. Gus nods in agreement then we watch her walk away.

“She’s pretty,” I whisper. “I bet there’s a line to her bedroom.”

“Not many lesbians.”

“Oh-h … right.”

“Have you ever been…?”

“Uh-huh. Before Mark, I lived with a woman missing a leg … a car wreck. She seemed okay with it. I never told her about my ‘issues’.” I snicker. “Have you been with a guy?”

“Uh-huh. I actually thought I was in love.”

Renee returns with the plates on a large tray and rests it on the table before passing them out like a dealer dealing cards. She moves the tray to another table then sits across from Gus.

“You should’ve seen her tell Dottie off the other night,” Renee tells him as she puts ketchup on her burger. “I’m glad you are still here,” she tells me.

“The ocean behind the Inn is a writers fantasy.”

“Do you write?”

“Yeah, successful too. I’m working on a new novel. Had a husband, but that didn’t work after my legs. I need to get the divorce going.”

“I take it most men aren’t into the ‘legless’ look.” She laughs and watches the burger for a moment before taking a bite. “Gus is a rare bird.”

“I understand you and Ming were close.”

“Uh-huh,” she says her mouth full with another bite. She chews for a while as her eyes absorb my face. “I couldn’t believe it when you rolled through the door the other night.”

“Guess it is a good thing I found a room at the Inn.” I snicker and reach across the table to take her hand for a long moment. She intertwines our fingers before pulling her hand back, her eyes looking at Gus as if asking for permission. I wonder if maybe they have slept together.

“Can I ask about your legs?”

“Sure. Like Ming, I wanted them completely off. Found a surgeon.”

“That is so wonderful, isn’t it Gus?”

“Renee wants just a leg off,” he says matter of factly as he chews a bite of his burger. He swallows. “Ming’s doctor got into some trouble and stopped doing amputations like hers. I never was able to find someone else.”

“Yeah-h,” Renee drawls, her eyes again focused intently on me.

We eat in silence for a while, occasionally glancing at each other as if considering what to say next. I push my red burger basket to one side and wipe at my lips.

“You should visit,” I say. “I doubt there are any other’s around here that understand.” I chuckle.

“Please do,” Gus says as he finishes the last bite of his burger. “That was fantastic … as usual.”

“It sure was,” I say. “Ah, what would you do with the cafe if you….”

“Either sell it or find someone to take my place. It’s not like there’s a ton of business after the tourist season. For the next four months, I might as well close up. Some days, like today, I just get three or four people in here.”

A large smile remains on my face as I look at her. My hand takes hers again, this time holding it longer enjoying the feel of her fingers against mine. “You and Gus could take turns carrying me in the sling,” I finally whisper as I pull my hand away.

The morning is warm and I sit at the desk wearing only a black thong panty. I struggle for words, my mind more on the conversation with Renee the night before. I search my thoughts as I consider my feelings for Gus what it might be like to be with her. Thoughts of Eva suddenly fill my mind and the softness of her body against mine, and the difference of his body, or Mark’s body.

I sit and watch the waves moving towards shore. A large freighter comes into view and I let my thoughts about where it came from or where it is going attempt to clear my battle of where it is better to be with a man or a woman. One hand idly plays with the keyboard leaving a trail of letters across several lines. I undo the gibberish keeping my eyes on the ship.

In the distance, I hear the front door open and close followed by footsteps and faint voices. I wait on the chair, my wheelchair still in a closet. I assume it is Renee. I don’t know why I feel hopeful that she might have come over, she has the cafe open from seven in the morning to seven at night. “It can’t be her,” I whisper under my breath.

Footsteps sound in the hallway. “Honey, it’s Renee,” Gus says before he arrives at my door.

I twist in the chair and look towards the door as she appears. Her left leg is not visible beneath her long skirt; a running shoe covers the lone foot. The brown rings of naked skin around her nipples beg though the thin blouse. She relaxes the grip on the aluminum crutches.

“Hey,” she coos. “You’re all dressed up.”

“Yeah, my writer’s outfit.” I laugh. “Look at you. What brought this on?”

“She used to come over and pretend,” Gus says. “She’s quite good on crutches. It’s hard to tell she isn’t really missing her leg.”

“I brought sandwiches.” She holds up a large brown bag. “Maybe we could sit out by the cliff.”

“I should put more on.”

“Nah. You’re just fine. Isn’t she Gus? Damn, I wish I looked half as good.”

Gus carries me outside to a grassy clearing under a large tree. The view is perfect as Renee sits next to me. Her gaze rapes me and I don’t mind.

“Perhaps I overdressed for the occasion.” I laugh.

“You’re fine … for now.” Renee takes each sandwich out of the bag and passes it to Gus then another to me. “I like ’em like yours more than the way she had hers off.”

“Ming’s legs?” I quiz.

Renee nods a few times as she unwraps her sandwich. Her hand moves towards my hip. “May I?” She does not wait for permission and feels the way the back of my hip wraps smoothly around to the front. Her fingertips linger over a few of the scars. “That’s the way I want my left hip to be.” I lean to one side letting the hip she is touching rise up off the ground. Her hand unabashedly and firmly roams the rounded mound. “Yeah, just like this.”

The hand still touches and I feel a fingertip brush the fabric of the thong over my mound. I grin and push at the waistband freeing the small piece of cloth from my body.

“Oh my-y, yes-s,” she coos softly as she takes in the full view of my legless hips and all that is between them.

I rest my hand over hers and pull it over my mound then push a finger inside. “Stay.” I let my eyes dart to the smile on Gus’s face then back to her and watch her nod.

“Will you mind me with both legs?”

“Hell-l no-o.” I rub her finger though my slit, the moisture building rapidly.

Gus gropes his crotch and rubs the bulge firmly.

“‘We’ can take care of that,” Renee joyfully says.

As her lips fall on mine, suddenly I realize my sexual greediness and take her mouth willingly. Even as she is laying me down on the grass, she becomes all I want. I no longer care about Gus, his stump, the view, or anything other than what is happening now.

Her soft hands hold my willing breasts, fingertips teasing my nipples into raging peaks, chunks of skin reaching for the sun. Her tongue roams my mouth, playing with my tongue, fucking as I expect it will to a needy opening below. I rip at her thin blouse opening it enough to grab and tug at one of her breasts. Both would be better. One is enough. Memories of Eva again flood my mind and I wonder why I ever allowed myself to be with Mark, or even Gus.

I moan into her mouth as her nipple begs my palm. The breast kneads like dough as I roll it over her chest. I ignore Gus strolling back to the house leaving the sling on the rock as I rip at her skirt until it fall along her thighs exposing the bound leg and letting me know she wears no panties. I feel the wetness of her slit as first a lone fingertip explores, soon joined by a whole finger, then another.

“Oh god-d,” she roars into my mouth riding my hand roughly. “I want you-u,” she coos as her eyes search mine with her lips just above mine.

I groan something in response. Neither of us is sure what other than it is an agreement. Her mound rides my hand, pounding ever harder, driving my fingers deep to the webbing. I sneak another finger in and she moans loudly as she nods her face above mine and sucks her lower lip between her teeth.

“Ah-h, yeah-h,” she rapidly repeats as the past of her thrusts slows. I understand, having been exactly to this place so many times. “God-d damn, you’re good-d,” she tells me in a low guttural tone, the climax fast approaching. The lip rolls back into her mouth again and her eyes close, her body trembling everywhere.

I roll Renee’s elastic bandage as she carries me in the sling, her crutches held in the hand on the other side. She mounts each step slowly as we watch Gus sitting on the bench on the rear veranda. His eyes studying us closely, I know he feels like he might be losing me to her. I suspect he is correct.

“Well….” he says, and then falls silent. His arms cross his chest tightly as he puts an ankle over the other thigh.

“Why’d you leave?” Renee finally stands in front of the bench. Her hand rubs my back and I feel relaxed knowing that she feels the same about me that I feel for her. I don’t really know much about her. Of course, I don’t know much about him either.

“I could tell I was in the way.”

“No, Gus,” I whisper, unable to prevent the words.

“Yeah. I knew it with Ming. I know it with you. Maybe it is best if you don’t stay.” He stands and walks though the door to the hallway.

“Ah,” I stammer and look around at her face. “What now?”

“He hurts. I feel bad. After all, I messed up things for him before.” She sits on the bench and takes me from the sling. I sit naked on the wooden slats facing her, an arm resting along the back of the bench.

“I got the impression you and he had….”

“Yeah, some. He ‘did’ me with his stump. That was something else.”

“Me too … up the ass as well.” I snicker.

“He never did that. I’m not a backdoor kind of gal. Mostly I pretended to be missing my leg for him, you know, with my leg bound up. He’d get really excited, and then we’d have great sex.” She pauses and looks intently into my eyes. “Nothing like with you,” she whispers into my ear.

“He’s right. If I’m not going to be with him, I shouldn’t stay here. I do need to find a lawyer to do my divorce. Maybe I should drive on.”

“Stay the night with me, will ya? It’s wheelchair friendly.” She laughs. “Ming got around in hers.”

“Why’d she leave?”

“Dottie had something to do with it. I guess there more Dottie’s in the world than I’d like, but in a small town … well, Ming just felt suffocated.”

“I don’t know if I want to live around here. The natural beauty is great, but I might get like Ming … suffocated.”

I follow Renee to the front door. Gus is talking on the phone and I overhear him, “Yeah Bob, she’s going.” His eyes catch mine for a second. “Good, we’ll have fun. See ya tomorrow.” The door clicks shut behind me.

I wake the next morning, my back cuddled against Renee’s chest and one of her hands holding my breast. I glance around the bedroom and remember moving out of Gus’s Inn. I hurt some though my feelings for Gus, even Renee, are probably rebound feelings from leaving Mark. Maybe I will bounce from lover to lover for a while.

Her hand moves my breast slightly as she rolls closer without waking. I let myself drift in comfort without going back to sleep.

Lips peck at my neck and the hand squeeze my breast a little. “Morning,” she coos into my hair, the hand again playing with my breast.

I glance at the large red numerals on the clock – five-forty. I groan.

“What?” she begs without moving or giving up her position.

“The time … could go fishing it’s so early.”

“Yeah. The alarm will go off in a few minutes.” She reaches over me and pushes a button so it will stay mute.

Before I have a chance to cuddle anymore, she is up and walking towards the bathroom. I try to picture being with her but have little success. Like Ming, I know I will suffocate in Sea Crest.

Dressed, I roll towards the bathroom and park in front of the door, watching her in front of the sink.

“Hey, duty calls,” she says.

“Listen, I need to get back on the road. Maybe I….”

“Sure, honey.”

She turns on the shower and steps inside without another word.

Twenty miles north of Sea Crest, I stop at a restaurant for breakfast. They advertise Internet access and I take my laptop with me to check my e-mail and catch up on the news.

“Anywhere,” the waitress tells me then follows with a menu and a glass of water.

Several men wearing plaid flannel shirts and baseball caps with logos that read CAT watch closely as I roll past their table. A few tables past them, I stop and push a chair out of the way, and park. When the waitress starts to put the menu down, I look up at her and order scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee.

I flip open the laptop and check my e-mail. There are two new messages, one from Mark, and one from Jen. His is simply a simple form for divorce that I am to sign and drop in the mail. I wait to read Jen’s message until the waitress fills my cup and walks away. I check the attention of the two men and they seem focused on other things.

‘My dearest friend, so much has happened since you left. If only I could go next door and talk to you. I miss you so much. Our moments alone were never long enough. Your kisses brought me more joy than I can explain. I hope that does not upset you to hear. You never mentioned being with another woman. I guess I never told you about my experiences, but now that you are gone, you are all I think of.’

I sip my coffee and look out the window while her words seep into my soul. I didn’t know how she felt about me. I did enjoy our times together, talking and in bed. The waitress puts the plate beside my laptop and refills my cup before walking away without saying anything. I eat a few bites before returning to Jen’s message.

‘Kevin left me. I guess he and Mark are banging some girls at the beach. I don’t know other than Mark called and Kevin left. I have the impression he is not coming back. If he does, I won’t be here. I’ve put my things in the storage unit with yours until I find a new place to live.’

“Assholes,” I mumble under my breath as I wash down the last of the food with a large swig of coffee then push the empty plate away.

‘I know that Mark had problems with your lack of legs and why you did that. I never told you about my feelings for such things. I wish I had. Growing up, I had a grandmother without legs, born that way. I would lay awake at night and dream of being like her. I don’t know why, but I did.’

“Anything else?” the waitress asks.

I look up quickly to make sure she is not reading the message. She isn’t. “A piece of apple pie if you have any.”

“Sure.” She walks away with the empty plate.

‘I was in heaven every time I held you close and touched your legless hips. I knew Kevin would be like Mark and I was hesitant to allow myself to believe I could become like you. He’s gone now. I wish you were here.’

I am so enchanted with the message I almost don’t hear the plate slide across the table. I look up and smile as she puts the check down.

‘There, I’ve said it and I hope you will understand, that you will have feelings for me. I love you Yae. Your friend forever, Jen.’

The pie is half eaten as I cover the check with money then roll towards the door.

“Come back again,” the waitress calls just before the door shuts.

Sand Cove is a small beach town midway between the restaurant where I read the message and where Jen and I lived. The sun is sinking past the horizon as I pull into the hotel where we agreed to meet. I see her car as I search for the handicapped parking places.

“Yae!” Jen yells, just as I close the car door and swivel my wheelchair towards the front door. I watch the petite woman running towards me with her arms held wide in preparation for a hug. She is wearing a short denim skirt and white tank top. The way her breasts sway beneath the fabric, I can tell she is not wearing a bra. Her long blond hair jostles with each stride.

The welcoming kiss is deep and passionate as our lips weld for minutes. In the process, she sits on the front edge of my cushion to hug me.

“Well-l hello,” I tease with a big smile as the kiss gradually ends.

“Do you need any help with your bags? I got us a great room with a view of the surf.”

“I hope with a big bed.” I laugh.

“Why, so I won’t crowd you?”

“Hardly.”

The room door clicks shut behind us. Beside the bed is a wheelchair similar to mine – yellow rather than dark blue. She walks past me and settles on the chair.

“What?” I beg.

“I found it used. Figured I’d need it. Hopefully soon, forever.”

“You were serious.”

“Do you mind? It’s not just, because you’re missing your legs. It really is something I’ve wanted since I was a little girl. Now for the first time, I’m free to do something about my desire. Will you help?”

“It’s a piece-of-cake. We can fire off an e-mail and arrange it … anytime.”

“Where? When?”

“Bangkok. It doesn’t take long to get it scheduled.”

“Will you go with me? I’m a woman without a home. I don’t need to come back.”

“What about your job?”

“I quit. I can’t believe all that has happened since you left. My grandmother, the one without legs, she died a few years ago. Anyway, the lawyer handing the probate of the estate called and said she left me a large amount of money. I don’t have to share any of it with asshole either.” She laughs. “‘We’ can live anywhere.”

I look at her for a long moment. “I want you so much, but I’m hungry.” I chuckle. “I promise to make it up to you later.” I roll closer and kiss her deeply.

“Keep that up and we’ll be naked in a hot flash,” she says.

I sit in my wheelchair at a table beside the pool, typing on my laptop, sometimes sipping from a glass of whiskey. The day is cooler than the past week, but still pleasantly warm. A soft ocean breeze soothes my naked skin.

There is good progress on a new novel. This one about two women without legs, living together in a close relationship. It is strangely similar to my life. I giggle aloud at the twists and turns I have taken to get here. I was foolish to ignore the feelings that were so obvious. Jen and I both did and we almost lost each other without letting them become real.

“Hey sexy,” Jen whispers, as she pushes her hands against the edge of the pool and heaves her naked body from the water onto the pavement. The water drains from her as she works herself upright and begins swinging her legless hips between her hands as she moves towards her wheelchair.

“Would you like a whiskey?” Maria asks Jen as she swaps my empty glass for a full one. She steadies the chair as Jen climbs into it.

“Yes, thank you.” Jen rocks back keeping the front wheels inches off the ground as she twists back and forth a few times.

“Lunch will be ready in an hour,” Maria offers.

We both watch her walk towards the house, the bare metal of the prosthetic leg on the left side exposed below the knee length dress, the sound of the surf behind us.

“This is the life,” Jen says as she rubs a towel though her hair a few times before dropping it beside the chair.

“Mine didn’t begin until a year ago, when we got together.”

“Yeah-h.” She parks by the table as Maria returns with the drink. She sips and waits until the woman is closer to the house before speaking. “Have you written anything about how they sixty-nine each other while playing with each other’s legless hips?” She snickers.

“Careful, you’ll get me so excited I won’t be able to write.”

“That’s the idea.” She sips again. “I had no idea not having legs would be as wonderful as it is. Maybe it is because I’m with you.”

“Maybe it was good that Mark didn’t like me this way.” I finish half the drink in a long sip as I watch her lovely body over the rim. “Play with a nipple,” I beg.

“Huh?”

“I need a little inspiration.” I laugh.

She twists her chair so she is facing me as wiggles her hips forward on the cushion. Fingers spread the folds of lips exposing wet pink skin. “Here’s some inspiration,” she teases as she begins driving a finger rapidly in and out.

I roll close so the fronts of our chairs touch and pull her onto my cushion, nipples against nipples, my tongue searching for her throat, my hands over the small of her back feeling the softness of her skin.

She pulls her face away a little, her warm panting breath washing over me. “I love the way you get so excited.”

“It’s your fault. Maybe we should take a ‘nap’.”

I laugh then roll towards the house knowing she is close behind. I also know we will never lose our passion for each other.

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