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Shelly’s lips were firm and lush, and the breath from her nostrils smelled vaguely of ketchup and French fries. I thought it was the most remarkable breath I had ever smelled. Her hand went to the back of my neck and tightened slightly on the loose hair at my nape. Shelly’s tongue darted against my lower lip for a moment, and my own darted out to chase hers, but it was already safe within her lips. My nipples gave a fierce pinch as they hardened instantly, and I am certain I heard my pussy squeeze in a powerful spasm.
“Ohhh, that was truly, truly fine,” she whispered when we separated. I was actually breathless.
“It’s been years since I’ve had a kiss like that.”
“You’ve got me there, Kate. I know for a fact that I have never been kissed like that.”
The world disappeared as out lips met again, this time our tongues danced around each other delicately, slowly. Shelly moaned softly into my mouth and my breath hitched almost as if I were going to cry.
“Do we really have to go to the prosthetists? I’d much rather go to my house right now,” Shelly breathed into my ear.
“Me too, darlin’, but I asked her to meet us there, and she’s making a special trip. I’d feel bad to cancel on her now.”
“OK. I guess the anticipation will be fun.”
I got up and sashayed to the counter, putting a little more snap in my peg than I had to. Shelly glided up beside me and slyly put a hand on my inner thigh. Her thumb brushed my pouting pussy lips a couple of times, and I shivered with excitement. We took the elevator to the third floor of the parking garage, and as the door closed, I slid my peg over her and sat on her lap. I tilter her head back and kissed her frantically, my hand brushing a huge projecting nipple through her blouse. As the bell for the floor ran, I leapt to my foot and spun around, just as the door opened and a young couple entered the elevator. I assumed a disinterested look on my face and stood well apart from Shelly, whose mouth was parted in obvious lust. The couple looked at each other and I realized that the elevator smelled like aroused pussy.
After we’d exited and the elevator door closed behind us, I burst into laughter. “Those poor kids! Do you think they know how horny I am?”
“If they’ve ever smelled that smell before, they’ll know in a heartbeat!” Shelly said through her smile. “Hey, I want to go to my house before we go the prosthetic shop, OK? I want to use my car today, if you don’t mind.”
We got into my Range Rover and Shelly directed me out into the country. Several miles out of town we turned into a narrow paved road and almost immediately came to a security gate with a keypad.
“The combo is ‘2678833’”, she said. “It’s ‘amputee’ on a phone keypad.”
The gate swung open and we drove for about 5 minutes before we came to an absolutely breathtaking home. Designed in the style of s Japanese compound from the 1400’s the single level house lay surrounded by an immaculate oriental garden. Separate from the house was a similar building with four garage doors, the furthest right-hand one with a small blood trail leading down to a drain. Shelly got out into the quickie and wheeled to the wall near the third door from the left. She entered a code into a keypad and the door slid up quietly. I heard a door open and shut, and then an unbelievable rumble rolled out into the quiet of the gardens.
A huge powerful car slid aggressively out of the garage and stopped, the engine sounding great. Although it had to be 40 years old, the car seemed to be brand new. The passenger door swung open and I sat down, unlocking the knee on the peg and folding it into the spacious footwell.
“What is this rolling wet dream, Shelly?”
“It’s a 1968 Dodge Charger R/T. It was my Dad’s. Daddy worked for Iococca in the 60’s and again later as a senior designer; that’s where the money all came from. Slide over close; this is one of the few R/T’s with a bench seat. Daddy always had Momma sit right next to him. They were driving a car like this, only a Coronet R/T, when they died. They never wore seatbelts, and I think that’s probably why they died,” she said as I fastened mine.
I sat with my hip touching Shelly’s side as we rumbled out of the driveway and onto the open road back to town. Her short stature made her look like my little sister was driving my car as we flew down the road. The car stopped traffic wherever it went, and I have to admit I finally realized what the era of muscle cars must have been like, and I liked it.
We pulled into the parking lot at Cunningham Orthotic/Prosthetics a little after 2:30. Jeri met us at the door. She hugged me and shook Shelly’s hand, then took us inside. As she led the way back to the clinic exam rooms, Shelly motioned to me, making a slashing motion at her own legs and then pointing at Jeri. She obviously wanted to know where Jeri’s amputations were, and her eyes almost bugged out when I slashed across both of my own legs halfway up my thighs. ‘How old?’ she mouthed and pointed perabet at Jeri.
I held out my hands, with two fingers up on the right and four on the left, to which Shelly’s eyes widen again.
Jeri is even shorter than Shelly at barely five feet, although she quipped that since she made her own legs, she could be as tall as she wanted to be. Her mother was from north-western Africa and her father was Pakistani, so Jeri had an amazingly exotic look. Her skin is very dark, not quite the blue-black of her mother, but far darker than her fathers amber brown skin. Her eyes, deep brown and pronouncedly almond shaped, are highlighted by a fairly thin nose. Her lips are lush and frame her white teeth in a smile nearly always in place. Other tan her smile, though, it is her hair that draws your eye. Jeri’s hair is a shimmering blue-black and reaches to the back of her knees when in a braided into a pony tail three inches in diameter. When free, the hair drags several inches behind her as she walks.
Jeri was born with mid-thigh length stumps, and actually walked on her hands for the first years of her life, until her parents immigrated to the United States when she was 12. When she hadn’t entered puberty by the age of 14, her parents took her to an endocrinologist, who discovered that Jeri has a birth defect called Swyer’s Syndrome. Her ovaries are tiny and would never mature. More importantly, they nearly always turn cancerous before the patient reaches 30, so they were removed before her 15th birthday. Jeri had considered hormone therapy to start puberty, but hasn’t decided to undergo the treatment as of yet, so the woman Shelly spoke to had the appearance of a 13 year old child.
“So Shelly, please sit up here on the exam table for me, OK?”
As she settled in, Jeri took in her appearance, remarking, to no one in particular, “Hose. Nice nice.” She unrolled the stocking from Shelly’s stump and then removed the compression stocking. Her tiny hands examined the limb for a while, asking Shelly to remark on any pain. Soon she sat smoothly down on the stool.
“I you have an interesting stump, Shelly. Somewhat phallic, I should say, eh, Doc?” She looked at me with a wink. “The diameter is going to be a challenge, but I can adapt you up to a nice controllable socket. I have a number of feet and ankles to choose from, and it’s sometimes a trial and error kind of operation before you decide which one you like the best. Do you have any special requests, like a running foot?”
Shelly cocked her head and looked at me, then opened the light jacket she had on to reveal her bust line.
“So that’s a no, I’m thinking, eh? How about crutches, are you set on those?”
“Actually, I have an old set I’ve almost worn out. Can you sell me a set of Canadians?” Shelly asked.
“Worn out? This can’t be over a month old?”
“I used them for years off and on before I became an amputee.”
“Oh. So you’re a club member?”
“Card carrier since I was 12, amputee for a month.”
“Good for you. And good for you, too Doc. I’ll be right back with the Canadians.” She lurched to her feet, steadying herself on my arm, and went into the room at the end of the hall, returning shortly with a shiny new pair of Canadian Canes. In purple.
“Wow!” Shelly said with a giggle. “Colors?”
“Only the best for my special customers. Let me know if you want others. I can get them in lots of colors. So… I’m having a special on pegs, can I interest you in one?”
“”Absolutely!” Shelly exclaimed.
“Great! Come back on Tuesday and I’ll fit you for your first socket. You can’t walk on it, but it will do a better job of compressing your stump to speed the shrinkage.”
“Yeah, I do low income rounds on Monday.”
“Prosthetics are really expensive. Lots of time consuming, skilled labor involved. I recycle used limbs for low income children on Mondays. The end result is not perfect, but it’s better than crawling like I did for 12 years.”
“Can I pay in advance for my stuff?”
Puzzled, Jeri said, “I don’t know how much it’s going to be yet.”
Shelly wrote a check while Jeri looked at me with a puzzled expression. Handing the check over, she looked down at the floor and said, “This should cover it. What ever is left can go to help you with the kids.”
Jeri took the check and looked at it, then back at Shelly. “My God.” She whispered, tears already rolling down her cheeks. She got up and threw her arms around Shelly, sobbing. I couldn’t see it all, but what I could see had 5 zeros behind it.
We all hugged, and I invited Jeri over for dinner in the next week, maybe after Shelly’s fitting on Tuesday.
“I like her a lot, she’s very sweet. What’s up with her size and stuff?”
I explained about Swyer’s and told Shelly that there was no ‘Stuff’, due to the syndrome.
“Whoa. So she really is like a 12 year old. I wonder if she can have sex?”
“You should ask her Tuesday night. perabet giriş You just never know. So what’s with the check?”
“Oh. I have lots, so why not share with nice people?” It appeared that the subject was closed.
My left hand was draped over Shelly’s shoulder as she drove, and I caressed her cheek softly. She turned her head and kissed my hand, and then sucked a finger into her mouth and suckled it. My pussy gave a twitch, and I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasurable feeling. As I sighed softly, I felt Shelly’s hand on my leg, and before I knew it, she had one-handedly released my limb, slid it off and peeled off my liner. Her hand slid around on the end of my stump like a butterfly, exploring and caressing. My eyes were closed, and time drifted by until we stopped, and Shelly was entering the number code into the gate controller. We pulled into the back of the Charger’s assigned garage slot through another electric door at the back side of the garage.
As the car clicked and ticked after shutdown, we just sat there, Shelly fondling my stump, and me with my head tilted onto hers. It seemed like a perfect moment, and I think we wanted it to last.
“I think I can find us a better place to chill, if you’d like,” she said.
“Mmm hmm,” I hummed. I sat up on the seat, and grabbed my leg.
“Would you mind not wearing that?” Shelly said, as she stood and grabbed her new crutches out of the back seat.
“Would that make you happy?” I asked with a smile.
“It would make me ecstatic,” she said.
“On one condition.” I said.
“And what would that be,” she said with an arched eyebrow.
“Take your bustier off.”
Shelly leaned against the Charger, turned around and lifted her blouse so I could unfasten the hooks I’d already located, and I slid it out from under her blouse. Her nipples made big tents in the front of the thin white fabric, and when she shook her shoulders, the whole thing took on a life of its own. When she put tension on her forearms to step forward, her breasts leapt up and shook like angry animals. My knee got weak, and I kicked off my black peep-toe pump, smiled and hopped toward the house, sincerely looking forward to the rest of the weekend.
We made out way past the Koi pond, which looked like it had been here for a thousand years. In the shadows, multi-colored fish the size of small sharks swam lazily, and a white Heron sat perched on one leg. At first, I thought Shelly had picked an amputee bird statue to grace her pond, and then the other leg dropped into the water, and the stately bird with the sinuous, snake-like neck walked toward the shallower end of the pool, its attention fixed on whatever had drawn its eye to gaze below the surface of the dark water.
Shelly entered a code on the keypad by the patio door, and inside the flashing red light on the alarm panel turned to solid green. She stood back and I hopped inside.
The inside of her home was as amazing as the outside. The Japanese theme continued, with tatami mats on the light bamboo floors, obviously expensive Asian art on the walls, and a full-sized set of Edo-period battle armor in a softly lit alcove near the dark bamboo stairs to a basement level. The crest of Tokugawa Iayasu gleamed darkly on the center of the chest-plate. The Katana set displayed nearby drew my attention drew my attention.
I hopped nearer and studied it carefully, the breath leaving my body as I realized its lineage.
“Fuuuck,” I hissed. “It’s a Kotetsu.”
“Excellent! You know Japan!” Shelly exclaimed.
“I’m a black belt in Muso Jikiden Eishin-Ryu Iaido. So yes, I know Japan. This has got to be priceless, Shelly.”
“If it were, my Dad wouldn’t have gotten it. It was a gift from the board of Mitsubishi when Dad had successfully negotiated a partnership between them and Chrysler. Let’s go downstairs, okay?”
We went down the slightly curved stairway. When I reached the bottom, I turned to watch Shelly descend. She held onto a stair rail with one hand and the canes with the other and hopped slowly down, her breasts dancing in fascinating orbits. I met her at the bottom with a kiss and a caress of her mound with the end of my stump, which made her gasp.
I turned to see floor to ceiling windows separating us from a full-scale Zen garden. In the middle of the indoor space was an elaborate soaking tub/massage area, and in a large alcove to the rear was a massive bed, flanked by larger-than-life granite statues of Buddha and Guan-Yin. They were as old as the armor upstairs. As I looked at them both, stunned, Shelly’s skirt flew past me and draped over Guan-Yin’s outstretched arm.
I looked at Shelly, open mouthed, and she said, “They’re just things, Kate. They’re not important. The best things in life aren’t things; they’re people, Kate. Especially people like you. Let me undress you.”
“Okay,” I whispered. Shelly hopped to the bath, a great block of stone sunken into the floor; nearly four feet by eight, perabet güvenilir mi and hot water began gushing into it as she turned some knobs. I joined her near the stone, and she lifted my sweater off my arms, and then planted a gentle kiss on each of my puckered nipples. The stone was chilly, and gooseflesh spread over my body.
Shelly kissed her way down my pimpled stomach, her tongue finding just the tips of the down-fine invisible hair on my centerline. She sucked my diamond navel barbell into her teeth and pulled gently. I shuddered in ecstasy. Her hands slid my miniskirt down and I stepped out of it. I leaned back against the cold smooth blackness of the Furo and spread my stump lewdly, placing the end on the edge of the tub near my right hand.
Shelly placed her hand, fingertips down, on my pussy and, finding her way into my long inner labia, curled her fingers underneath me. My pussy made a noise like a gasp when her finger slid into my body, and my leg started to shake.
I lifted her blouse over her head. Her breasts were just as I had pictured them (literally), wide, deep and very full. Her nipples rode just below the center of her orbs, and pointed slightly downward. Her cleavage was nearly six inches long, and the weight of her breasts kept them pressed tightly against each other, until she bent forward to remove her skirt, when they began to swing in circles. She stood up, hopping a couple of times to get her balance. Her tits looked so good when she did that; I almost wanted to push her to make her hop. Her nipples were set on deep brown areolas only about an inch across, and the nipples themselves covered over half of them, and were the same brown and round like berries. She dropped her skirt, and slid into the bath, breasts floating like islands. I joined her, the water just hot enough to pinch my clit and other delicate tissues as they got wet.
I sort of floated across the tub and sat on the stone bench next to Shelly, my stump against her butt and her stump draped across my thigh and in a convenient place for me to fondle. The scars were already turning pink and getting smoother, and I admired my work for a while, then closed my eyes and dozed for a few moments. Shelly took me by the waist and I let her float me over to a stone in the middle of the tub. She moved behind me and stood, sliding her stump around my side until the tip rested on top of my thigh for support. She began to work on my shoulders and neck with her little hands, which proved surprisingly powerful. Over the next few minutes, she reduced me to a near drooling idiot with her skilled massage, and then she was out of the tub and beckoning to me with a huge fluffy towel.
I swung my leg over the side of the tub and she enveloped me in the towel, which was warm and indescribably soft. We hopped together to the slightly raised bed platform, and she put me on the near side at the edge, my right side to the edge. Kneeling on her shortened leg, dipped her hands into a warming pot near the head of the bed. She rubbed her hands together and then placed them on my hips, spreading the warm lotion up my back. Hopping on one foot has its advantages as far as erotic appeal and quickness over a short distance, but it is hell on your pelvis and lower spine, as well as brutally punishing on your remaining leg. For these reasons as well as the fact that Shelly was a consummate masseuse, I was in heaven. She works smoothly on my low back, shoulders and pelvis for a long time, and then I noticed her hands sweeping lower every time she dipped toward my butt, until she was massaging my ass.
She kneaded the musculature with powerful strokes, finishing every other time with a slide down my crack and a gentle slip slowly past my little rose. Soon, she stayed lower and slid a finger a little way in, causing me to arch my ass up, yearning toward her skilled fingers. I groaned in disappointment as she slid down my remaining thigh, massaging clear to my foot, and then spending ten solid minutes working on it alone. I was close to weeping with pleasure when she started up my leg, her attention now fixed firmly on my stump. She stripped the muscles up to my hip, and then swirled down, cupping the end and searching until she found the truncated end of my femur beneath the overlapping quad and both heads of the biceps femoris. She rolled it between her hands, and the fact that it was my stump came roaring into my psyche, and I grunted out loud as an orgasm swept in a roaring circle inside my pelvis, my pussy smacking obscenely. I grabbed at her shoulders, rolled her over me and straddled her narrow hips. I lifted her stump in my hands and spread her thighs apart, then stood on my stump with our labia touching. My hips were already pumping uncontrollably, and soon hers joined in, our wet pussy lips rolling against each other in a perfectly choreograph dance of lust. My eyes made contact with hers and we stared at each others faces, the want plainly evident in our hanging, panting lips and hooded eyes.
My breasts rocked with my hips, the golden bells suspended from my 12 gauge piercings chiming like temple bells. Shelly’s tits rolled like waves in the ocean, the sharks of her hands surfacing through the crests to pull and flick at the islands of her dark nipples.
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