The last three years since finishing a Masters in Math, I’ve been teaching at a small college. Other than that, my life is lonely. I don’t wish it to be. It is. Not many women fit my fantasy.
It is all I can do to contain my emotions when she walks into my second year math class. I know I will be a wreck. “I’m Amy Glass,” she says as she hands me the admission slip. My mouth must have gaped open, or perhaps drool sliding from its corner that catches her attention as she leans back slightly on her long aluminum crutches and points with one finger at my face.
“Sorry,” I whisper, wiping at my face. “That desk is free.” I point at one in the front row.
“Perfect. I think ‘we’ll’ enjoy having me in front.” She giggles and takes the seat, the single leg extending from the knee-length skirt and the brown loafer resting on the floor, the ankle bare and nicely turned with a small anklet.
The classroom is still empty, another few minutes before everyone runs in at the last moment. I rest my hips on the edge of a desk and fold my arms in front of my chest. My palm rubs my chin as I stare.
“It’s new. This summer.”
“Oh? You seem to be doing well.”
“Thanks, I don’t mind.”
Before either of us can say more, the students storm into the room. I begin the class, struggling to focus on the topic of the day. I fail.
“Mr. Adams,” Amy says, standing in front of me as the others leave the room.
I look up and close my notebook. “Yes.”
“I’m happy you’re my teacher. Could I come early in the morning to have help on the first two weeks of class that I’ve missed?”
She is close and her hand touches my forearm, maybe by mistake. I hope not. Her fingers still rest on it. Not a mistake I realize. The white blouse gives me little information about her body. I look anyway.
“I’d be happy to help. I’ll be in my office.”
“Cool. I’ll be there.”
The touch lingers and the smile on her face is captivating. She squeezes my arm then walks away, the shoe sweetly swinging between the crutch tips with each step. Alternating sounds of the leather sole sliding against the floor followed by taps of the tips fill my ears. My gaze follows until there is no more to see.
My apartment is quiet – I live with no one and have no pets – as I pace around barefooted after finishing dinner and doing the dishes. My mind races with thoughts of Amy. Was she coming on to me? What would I do if she were? She was beautiful – the long curly brown hair, the blue eyes. God, that missing leg, how much is gone?
The erection demands something and I rub a hand over it several times. “Fuck,” I whisper aloud sitting at the laptop and going to some of my favorite websites, the ones with pictures of amputee women. I stare until my vision blurs. I don’t need to look. I have them all memorized. I look anyway.
Naked in bed, I jack off until there is no more and I’m sore. Cum covers my chest, my stomach, and my hands as I drift off to sleep.
“Is this a good time?” Amy asks from the doorway.
“Ah, any time with you….” I catch myself, but I have already said too much. I grin. “Sure.” I point at a chair beside my desk on the side away from the door and wait for her to sit.
“Thank you for taking time.” She reaches over and touches my arm again. “I like you.”
I clear my throat, but no words come out. I just stare for a moment.
“Could I ask a question? If it’s too personal, let me know.” I nod. “Do you find it, ah, interesting that I have one leg? I’ve noticed you looking.” She slides the hem of the skirt up slowly until a few inches of stump are showing. “You like that?” She smiles and leaves it showing.
“We, ah, I could get in a lot of trouble.” I rip my gaze away from her stump and check the open door – no one there. Eagerly I look back at her.
“I won’t tell.” She leaves the skirt hiked. Unconsciously I drag my tongue over my parched lips. “Mr. Adams….”
I clear my throat. “Yes?”
“I believe you’re lusting.” She snickers. “My dad does that too.” She giggles.
“Are you just teasing me?”
“Hardly. I know some men like women with one leg, like my dad, and I believe you fall into that group. Do you?”
My eyes drift down and linger on the beautiful rounded shape with a scar just above the surface of the chair from one side of the stump to the other.
“I’m goin’ to hell for sure,” I mutter under my breath as I look at my watch then back at her.
“Just for looking?” She laughs. “Listen, he and I just moved to town. We don’t know anyone yet. Maybe you’d like to have dinner with us. You and your wife….”
“I live alone. What about your mother?”
“She ran off with her girlfriend. You and he would like to compare notes, picture collections … you know, of amputee women. I’m sure you and I could get better acquainted there than here.” She gives me a devilish grin and touches my arm again.
“I’d like that.”
They live on the edge of town on a large parcel of land, maybe twenty acres and all wooded. She had siirt escort mentioned the orange mailbox in her directions and I am glad, otherwise I would have driven past the rutted drive and been halfway to the county line. My old Honda Civic bounces along the drive scraping the high grassy ridge down the middle with dust blowing behind.
“Mr. Adams,” the tall lanky man says. He wears bib overalls with a white tee shirt underneath, long salt and pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail, sandals on his bare feet.
“Call me Sam.” I shake his hand.
“Jake.” He looks at me for a moment. “Amy’s told me good things about you.”
I follow him inside the small farmhouse “She’s a wonderful girl. You’re lucky.”
“That I am. That I am.” He points at a large overstuffed chair. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink, a beer, some whiskey?”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “Maybe a whiskey.”
“Good, I like that. I think we’ll get along just fine.” He slaps me kindly on the upper arm.
“Hey Mr. Adams,” Amy shrieks, as she quickly crutches across the room and sits in my lap, the crutches clattering together onto the floor. She’s wearing only a long tee shirt and some black panties peek from under along with the short stump of her left leg.
“His name is Sam,” he tells her.
She rubs her hips over my lap and places her hands on each side of my face as she kisses me deeper than I expect. “I’m so-o glad you come over.”
I take the glass and sip. “This sure hits the spot,” I tell him.
“Let me.” She pulls the glass from my hand and takes a bigger sip than I did then gives it back.
“Don’t go gettin’ drunk, you hear.”
She has the same devilish grin as she kisses me for a long moment. “Like my stump. Here, you can look all-l you want.” She pulls the tee shirt up a little. “Right, dad?”
“She said you like amputees.” Jake sits on the couch and sips his whiskey. “Her mother never understood.”
“Most women, even men, don’t seem too,” I reply. “I guess I’ve always had a special interest.”
“You ever known any?”
“Only in my dreams.”
“Amy found my stash of pictures after her mother left us … ran off with another woman. Came home one day and found Amy with a leg bound up in some jeans pretending to be one-legged.”
“Should have seen him. Rock hard.”
“Couldn’t help it. Bet you’re the same way. You jack off thinkin’ ’bout stumps?”
“I’d be lying if I said no.”
“Dad does too, unless I help him.” She snickers. “These days, I do that a lot.”
She leans closer – if that’s possible – and her lips wander over mine while grinding her nipples into my chest. I don’t resist and find my tongue pressing into her mouth, though I consider I might be doing something he doesn’t like. The thought does not stop me.
“She’s got nice tits,” I faintly hear him say over the slurping coming from our mouths. “Let me get the burgers goin’ while you two get to know each other.”
I find my hand roaming over her washboard abs and up inside the tee shirt searching for all she has to offer until I find firm breasts with aching nipples.
“You wouldn’t take advantage of a poor helpless cripple, would you?” She teases before resuming the deep wet kiss.
I roll the breast over her chest and feel the nipple drill a hole in my palm. I understand there are no bounds tonight as I pull at the bottom of the tee shirt.
“I love the way you tutor.” She snickers and offers me a breast held in her hand. “Maybe after dinner, we could get into more advanced equations.” I hear sizzling and am not sure if it is the burgers or my body. She slips from my lap down between my feet. The zipper rips slowly.
“Just a quick peek, please.” Her hand feels warm around my shaft. The waistband pulls tighter while she peels it down. “Oh yeah-h,” she coos, dabbing pecks over the head. “Maybe I’ll get lucky.” She pecks several more times then lets go of the waistband and zips me. “Ya think?”
“Come fix your buns.”
She is just in front of me on the way to the kitchen, still naked. “I see some buns to fix,” I tease as I playfully swat her bottom.
“I save my ass for him, but you can have anything else you like.” She shakes her hips as though she might be teasing about the ass or the ‘anything’. I don’t know. I suspect not.
He pushes the condiments across the island then a plate with a hamburger bun. “Bet you never expected to find something like her in your class.”
“Got that right. I’m very jealous.”
“Seems we might be sharing.” He laughs. “Guess you don’t need to be jealous.”
“I don’t mean to intrude.”
“Shit, I don’t mind. Wendy is coming to visit soon. She’s like Amy, older though.”
Amy laughs. “He met her online in a dating site. She helped me find a doc.” She spreads the ketchup on her bun and dabs a little mustard in several places. “There’s more if you want.”
“More?” I hope she means ‘more like Wendy’ but she might mean ‘more ketchup’ and then I’d be disappointed. “I don’t understand.” I watch the patty drop on my bun.
“You sincan escort know, women that are ‘having’ amputations. Some ’cause they want it, some just are tryin’ to find lovers like you two. Cool, huh?”
“Which were you?” I ask, holding the burger.
“Wanted.” She bites into the burger. “Hmmm, this is good dad.” She chews for a moment. “Wendy, I don’t know, maybe a little of both. Have you a favorite amputation?”
“What, made to order amputees?” I chuckle, staring at her in a new light.
He swallows and takes a sip of whiskey. “I like ’em with a short left stump.”
“Yeah, that’s why I did mine this way.” She finishes her burger and pours whiskey in an empty glass for herself.
“Let me get this straight, the doc does it however you wish?”
“All he cares about is that you don’t die on the table and you have money,” he explains. “There’s a waiting list, both of those wanting amputations and those wanting amputee partners … straight and gay or lesbian. Even a few transgendered.”
“Too bad your wife wasn’t in that line.” I laugh.
“Uh-huh. No way in hell though.”
Amy stands behind me grinding, her hand rubbing the front of my pants. “You ever want to be with a guy … or watch two women?”
“What guy hasn’t wanted to watch two women? God, two amputee women….”
“I’d do Windy for you,” she coos, still rubbing. “Would you blow dad while I watch?”
I glance at him. A huge grin covers most of his face. I shrug my shoulders. “Never been with a guy. Guess I’ve thought about it. Wondered what sucking a cock might be like.” I look at him again. “You ever been with a guy?”
He shakes his head. “I thought about it some when I was a boy. Like you, wondered what a cock tasted like when it unloads.” He looks at her then back at me. “Maybe when we get to know one another better.”
Her hand worms past my waistband and finds me, slowly strokes a few times with a lose grip. “I love it when he unloads in my mouth. Yummy.” The hand still strokes as I suddenly swell.
“Her mom never liked suckin’. Once she ran off with what’s her name, I understood.”
“Did you and your mom ever…?”
“We kissed, touched some. I’ve been with another woman before. I like it, not as much as with a guy, but I like it.” She squeezes my shaft a few times. “I like my pussy being kissed.”
“If you two want too. I’ll do the dishes.” Her hand leaves then the weight of her leaning against me lightens. I hear the tapping of the crutch tips on the hardwood floor. “Go ahead, I’m okay with it.”
I can’t sleep. I feel the empty space in my own bed and for the first time in a while, contemplate what it would be like to just roll over and hug someone. Maybe have crazy sex or have the other person pester me for some kind of oral activity.
I take care of the erection, still wanting more, still hard. Just wanting to come, I add lotion and stroke quickly until I come again. Then again a few more times. Puddles of cum cover my stomach and drain past my balls.
“Custom amputees?” I puzzle aloud as I walk to the bathroom to clean up.
The laptop comes to life and I enter the dating site URL, then the userid and password Jake gave me. A page of pictures appears, most of the women are attractive at least, if not drop dead gorgeous.
I scroll though a few rows and click on the picture of a woman with long black hair and Asian features. I love women that look like her. Lana’s ad paints as I lust over a few additional pictures, one nicely suggestive, until it finishes.
‘Thanks for looking. If we were together, you could look all the time. I’m 28, employed. Single all my life. No children and don’t want any. I want to find someone that would love me as an amputee. My preference is all of both legs. I dream we will make love every night for the rest of our lives. Willing to live anywhere, just so it is with you.’
Still lusting, I click on pictures of other women and all the ads read like the first, though a few are more specific about the kind of amputation or they are already amputees. The ages vary widely and countries they live in are all over the world. Several either have children or want them.
“Fuck me-e,” I mumble as I continue reading ads. “Where have these women been all my life? Where is the Asian chick?”
The e-mail icon bounces and I click.
‘Darling, I had a wonderful time with you. I look forward to more. I hope you do. Maybe I could spend the night with you sometime. Amy. PS, how did you like the dating site?’
The erection never leaves, but now roars for attention again. First I reply – ‘Tonight? Sam.’
Before I close the lid, a new message appears. ‘I’ll be there about 6. Wear me out, please.’
Being a wreck does not adequately describe how I feel standing in front of my three classes today. I do manage to convey the material coherently, I think. I don’t actually know. I don’t know if the bulge in my pants is obvious. Thankfully, the lectern hides that part of me.
Amy wears a short black sinop escort dress, the front cut low enough to see all the cleavage, the inner sides of both breasts, and at times the brown circles around her nipples. The heal of the pump adds a few inches bringing her eyes to the level of mine. Our lips too and we take advantage of that as she stands on the threshold of the front door.
“Nice to see you too-o,” she teases. “Do we fuck before or after dinner?”
“Both?” I step back and give her space to come inside, my eyes ripping the dress off leaving only the shoe.
“Guess it’s good I didn’t bother to wear any underwear.” She drops the small purse on an end table and crutches around the living room inspecting books. “Quite the reader. Not like me.” Her fingers drag past a few spines, sometimes rubbing over the title. A crutch leans against the bookcase as she strolls towards me using just one. “You like a lady on one crutch?”
I gasp, struggling to form even one word then simply chuckle. “Oh, yeah-h.” All of my fantasies are now in overdrive.
She leans against me, everything rubbing nicely everywhere, as she slowly brings her lips to mine. “Good.” Her tongue slithers into my mouth and spends a while as her hand grips the back of my neck.
“Maybe we could slip into nothing,” I whisper, catching my breath.
“I hope you won’t be wearing pajamas tonight.” She snickers. “Notice I didn’t bring anything to wear.”
The alarm goes off. Only half an hour’s sleep – tops. She wakes and grabs at the erection. A few stokes before pulling it towards her cum filled opening with plenty coating all around. “Does this ever run out?” she begs.
“Not around you.” I snicker than drive deep with a single thrust though the sopping wetness of our mingled juices.
“Could you be a little late?”
She balances, a few fingers gripping the top of the glass shower, as I drag the thick towel over her body.
“Don’t miss any places,” she coos.
I rub it over her mound a few times then peck kisses before looking up though her cleavage. “Just doing a little quality control.” I peck a few more times.
“Don’t start nothin’ you can’t finish.” She lightly grinds against my mouth as the stump swings out slightly. The hand moves from the glass to my head and the grinding continues. She moans softly.
“His dick’s in Wendy,” she jokes Friday night, as she explains why he won’t miss her for the weekend. I look up at her face hanging down over mine as her hips ride me in slow rocking motions, breasts swaying. Her hands rest on my shoulders, the fingers sometimes giving them a slight massage.
“Fine with me.”
“Thought so.” The rocking continues. “They want us over there for lunch. Can you behave?” She laughs, still grinding slowly. “I should ask that of myself.”
I cup her stump and rub. “I like this.”
“I’ve noticed. Fuckin’ and stumpin’….” She sucks her lower lip for a moment. “Huh?”
“Perfect, like the rest of you.”
“You’re quite the package too. I don’t think I’ve had this much good sex, or of any kind.”
“Thought you and Jake….”
“We do, quite a bit. Its just sex. Just sex can be good too.”
Hips rock more and her head tilts back, mouth opens, and soft moans begin to flow. I let her have her way without help. I’m deep inside and enjoying all she is doing as her stump rubs my side.
“Okay, you can come now.” She snickers and continues her motions.
“Hmmm, maybe your cunt feels too good around my cock to….” I realize it is too late and I explode.
“Ha! Knew you would.”
I spin her over and quickly nibble down her front until my face wallows in our combined juices, lapping through her slit spread wide from having me inside. I take her bud and roll it between my lips, sometimes pulling it slightly deeper.
“Oh god, oh god,” she begins screaming as her leg shoots high in the air. “Oh, oh,” she repeats quickly like a machine gun, her crotch slamming hard against my face. Her stump wavers and slaps me. “Oh, oh,” she continues, now ripping at her breasts, rolling them about her chest, twisting the nipples. “Oh … baby, oh … baby.”
At last, the leg lowers and falls over my shoulder. “Honey, darlin’. You are good-d with that tongue.” She giggles.
“May need some sound proofing.”
“Sorry, are the walls that thin?”
“Uh-huh. The poor old folks next door probably both had strokes.”
She laughs. “Or had glasses against the wall.” She laughs again.
I crawl along side and pull her against me, our mouths close, then touch.
“You’re poking me,” she whispers during the kiss.
“Yeah, I know.” I thrust and easily go inside.
The slender woman with bleach-bottle curly blond hair opens the door. Her knee length dress split up one side to the hip reveals a peg leg. It is all I remember until she says my name about the same time Amy pokes me in the back.
“Come in.” She laughs. “Jake! There’re here.” She moves slightly out of the way and as I pass, she pulls me into a pleasant hug against comfortable breasts. “You like my leg?” I don’t have a chance to answer before her lips cover mine for a long moment.
“Yeah, he does.” Amy swats my hip and walks into the living room. “You may have lost her,” she teases Jake.