“What are you looking?” she asked with a grin.
“Just admiring your bouncing biggies,” he grinned back.
“Not funny!” she pouted.
“You’re right. It’s not funny, it’s fucking sexy.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, enjoying his shameless staring. He was still in bed, naked like she was, stretched out saturday morning lazy and his cock pointing up with interesting hardness.
“You’re lusting after something I can’t help,” she said, feigning an admonishing look.
She’d normally hold an arm around her tits when hopping from the shower back to the bedroom; a right leg amputation and an E-cup bosom did not make a very practical combination. Her new lover watching made her decide not to, though. Not only did he love her well-curved body, his enjoying it was never held back by anything that came with her being an amputee. If hopping naked made her tits bounce – and it did, a lot – he saw no reason not to find that hot because she was missing a leg. And she didn’t mind.
Coping with having one leg was routine for her, really. She was forty now and had it since her sixteenth, well long enough to not give the practical aspects any thought anymore. And being a positive person enjoying life, she had long left the being bothered by it behind as well. She had it, she dealt with it, and anyone unable to do the same would simply not be part of her life.
He had become, though.
“No sweetie, I’m lusting period.”
“I know you are. And I like it,” she winked, wiggling and allowing him a good look.
“Mmm, do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you are, Swedish princess?”
Although there was no trace of Skandinavian bl**d in her descent, he often called her that because of her white blonde hair, light blue eyes and a posture he often referred to as triple B, big busted blonde. And she didn’t mind that either. It was simply too much fun to drink in how he found her beautiful and desirable.
The extra pounds coming with no longer being twenty had found the perfect places, he found, and she didn’t disagree. She had always been happy with not being a skinny chick, much preferring the curved posture mother nature had endowed her with. And over the years, that curviness had increased where she minded it least. Her now fuller rounded buttocks needed a size more jeans wise, and her bras a bit more than one; even her current E-cup was a little tight. So, she wasn’t really mannequin slender, but all that mattered was that she felt good with it, and she did. And as far as her lover was concerned, she couldn’t look more sexy.
In a very relaxed way, that was uninfluenced by her having one leg. Actually, he hadn’t even noticed the first time they met, which was still a running gag. In his defense, it was easy to go wrong. In a pantsuit like she was wearing then, only a slight limp would reveal she had a prosthesis, despite her amputation being high above the knee.
She fondly remembered how she told him, or rather how he’d listened to her telling, in total absense of uneasiness. There was only sincere surprise and interested curiosity, without discomfort and without pity. He had started a chat with her – during drinks after a seminar they were both attending – because he found her attractive, a chat that soon turned to flirting. And she hadn’t noticed even a subtle change when she told him he was doing his flirting with a right leg amputee.
After that, she soon made clear what she found of him. They both not too accidentally dropped they were divorced, let their ever more interested chatting express they were open to something new, and a little later – but not really much – it was obvious there was mutual interest in more. They had left together, picked her place for the so-called last drink and ended up in bed, having sex like they really needed it, which was entirely true.
“Well, you’re showing me the one proof that women know to trust in a man,” she chuckled, eying his erection with a naughty look.
Stretched out on top of the duvet, it was hard to overlook. It was his smug grin she loved most, though. He saw no reason at all to hide his hard on, a lack of inhibition she wasn’t really used to. Her previous sex life had never been so open.
She quite enjoyed the change, though. Being forty and the excitement of a new love affair made a great match, she found. Like for so many women, her sex life when she was young and just married had been full of insecurities. They were nothing serious, these classic female worries about am I doing this right or am I attractive enough to please him, but it did feel relieving and free to see them be left behind. It was a bit hard to describe, but she felt confident with her body now, no longer feared anything. Silly worries had been replaced by a confidence coming with maturity, a confidence of unpretentiously finding herself more than worthwhile. And it was doing her a lot of good.
“I like the way you like that,” he winked. “As I love the way you’re standing.”
“And why is that?” she smiled, obviously charmed.
“You’re not worrying about me seeing you like this, only enjoying. That adds to your sexiness.”
“Why should I be worrying?”
“I’d say that explains what I meant,” he smiled.
Losing her leg at age sixteen had been a big blow. Not that there was ever a good age for your leg needing to be amputated, in the midst of adolescence blooming it had been particularly tough. It was the age when girls raved about boys and were supposed to, but she went through those years worrying whether the biggest trauma of her life would be enough to make her survive. With very few boys bothering to date a girl with only one leg.
She did survive. And once she dared again to really admit to herself she was going to live on, she made a firm decision to not let the amputation be in the way of her happiness. Her life was given a second chance, she was determined to take it and she succeeded by regarding her disability as the price she was paying for that second chance. And obviously there was no option not to pay it, her genuinely being willing to made life a lot easier.
As it was now.
“You’re making it easy not to worry,” she smiled, confidently taking her stump in both hands.
Her ex would often look away if she did, this man encouraged her to be open with it. He wanted her to be at ease with any aspect of having the amputation, including the marks it had obviously left. They’d had to take off her leg high upper thigh to be safe, leaving around fifteen centimeters of stump and a prominent scar. It wasn’t the prettiest of what her body had to offer, so it sure felt good to see him smile looking at it.
“I often wonder how it feels for you,” he said, smiling and not looking uneasy.
“Feel to have, you mean?”
“Um…there’s no leg, and that’s basically what it feels like too,” she smiled back.
“So you’re feeling it as a stump?”
“Pretty much, yeah. But I’m not sure I get what you mean?”
She enjoyed with an open smile. They’d agreed no question regarding her leg amputation would be weird. It was their way of narrowing the gap between twenty-four years of having it and never having seen it before, and she was happy to see him do it with relaxed ease.
“I guess I’m curious how your stump feels? Or maybe I should say how your leg no longer there feels, how you’re aware of it.”
“I don’t really think of it, if that’s what you mean?”
“It’s sort of mixed. Rationally there’s of course the knowing. At the same time, it feels normal, as it should be. I’ve had it for so long my awareness totally adapted. It’s become naturally part of my system, I sort of deleted any inclination to use the leg no longer there. Which is pretty handy by the way,” she added with a relaxed grin.
“Does adapted mean you don’t have a real sense of being amputated, or not anymore?”
“Rationally I have of course,” she replied, now beginning to understand what he was curious for. “In terms of sensing my stump as a body part I haven’t, though. It feels its own, whole, its new self, so nothing like cut off.”
“You think?” she smiled, lifting her stump out of her hands and twichting it. “For me it’s so dead normal I can’t even remember what having a leg there felt like.”
“Did it take long to lose the memory?”
“In the beginning it was really terrible. It did feel cut off then, very much so and painfully too. And because my system hadn’t adapted yet, I always had to remember. Any thoughtless moving was dangerous. I had a couple of nasty falls then. Stupid things like stepping out of bed for a pee and finding yourself flat on your face the next moment. Very annoying!”
She was grinning about it now, but he could read the nasty memory in her eyes.
“But the first months were bad alright, I was also amazed how fast I got used to it,” she continued.
“So one really can?” he continued asking curiously.
“You can, yes, and it sort of happens by itself, until eventually you don’t know any better. And before you know, you’re standing naked in front of an attractive man, trying to answer his questions and loving the way he’s looking at you,” she added, now with a broad smile.
“So that’s what I’m seeing,” he grinned, still enjoying how totally relaxed she was doing it. And seductively naked.
“What you’re seeing is what you’re getting,” she winked, bending over to kiss him. It made her tits dangle rather spectacularly, and she knew it did.
“And I love it!” he winked back, giving her the I’m drooling look as he nibbled her lips.
“You’re fun to tease…” she whispered with a beaming smile.
“I love to be teased…”
“You do, yes,” she whispered, “But weren’t we going into town for breakfast?”
The shower she’d just taken was after a pretty fierce bit of showing they really liked each other. And her new lover was not only attractive and nice, he shared her tending to be insatiable and possessed remarkable stamina on top of that. Her previous sex life had given her a bit of a wrong level of expectation in that respect maybe. With her ex, it was all over after his orgasming. This lover’s appetising manhood however, was enticingly full back in action again. And it was invariably.
“We were yes, and we are,” he whispered back, playing with her splendidly jiggling boobs. “But I need you to know I’m having real trouble to control my urge to fuck you.”
“You just did, I think. Very, very decently too. But it’s good to know you haven’t had enough yet,” she replied with a naughty grin.
“Quick breakfast then?”
“No, no. I want you to take me into town for real, and at least pretend you like it. That way, you’ll have all morning and part of the afternoon to ponder how you’re going to fuck me when we get home again,” she teased.
“Okay, but then you should count on being fucked rather hard,” he grinned, squeezing her nipples. “You’ll have made me explosively horny by then.”
“Mmm, I think I can live with that,” she chuckled.
She kissed him, moved to stand upright again and pulled his hand to get him to rise too. When she hopped to the corner of her bedroom to fetch her prosthesis, she was stopped, though.
“Breakfast now, not?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes, but with a request,” he said, pulling her in his arms.
“Mmm, if you’re asking like this it must be special,” she giggled. “So tell me.”
“I want you to not wear the prosthesis, would you mind?” he then asked.
“No, I wouldn’t. But I wanna know the why,” she smiled.
“It’s a geste to you.”
“A geste, how so?”
“I’m lusting for you so much and so often you will think I’m just a horny bastard,” he said. “And probably I am, I also want you to know I think you’re a great woman. And there are many reasons for finding that, one making you really great for me is how little you seem to mind having the amputation. This request is my way of showing you I don’t either.”
She beamed when he’d finished, pulling him closer. “I can’t tell you how sweet I find that,” she said. “And I don’t need anymore proof you’re not minding, but I’ll gladly let you show.”
“I’ll be happy to,” he winked.
“And by the way…?”
“You áre a horny bastard…”
“But you’re forgetting one thing,” she added. “I quite like it.”
“Well, that’s one of the other reasons I find you great.”
“I like that too,” she replied, grinning broadly. “Now tell me what to wear.”
She had a couple of them, to wear in the gym, altered leggings with a stretch fit closing tight around her stump. And they were quite convenient for doing work-outs, they also weren’t hiding very much.
“So it’s gonna be this one?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow as she made her stump rest on the crutch.
There was hardly a more prominent way to let her missing leg be shown, but she was fine with it. Since having the C-leg she’d never go out without it anymore, but she had done a lot before that. In her early twenties, there was the rebellious chick refusing to wear a prosthesis for provocative reasons, and in her thirties, there was the married woman who often preferred crutches to the unnatural feel of a barely functional stiff leg. So she’d never minded her missing leg showing and she wasn’t minding now.
“Much as I regret to see them be covered, we do need to find you something to wear with it,” he winked, eying her still naked tits.
“Glad you agree,” she smiled. “And what’s it gonna be?”
“I loved that t-shirt and black bra you had on yesterday.”
“The five minutes yesterday, you mean?”
“Still too long, but yes,” he winked.
They both chuckled. Yesterday had been a classic very happy to see one another. Both having been busy with work all week had pumped up the urges rather violently, resulting in most of her clothes getting taken off before they had even had a first drink to celebrate the start of the weekend.
He had this talent to make things like that be perfectly normal. Not that she’d ever been shy, his total lack of inhibition was a step up for her alright, which she found very arousing, therefore adored it, and was easily able to enjoy it because it made a great match with how she’d come to feel about herself. In that respect, she even found his request exciting. There was a thrilling aspect to his wishing to be seen with her in public like this, so she was all too happy to oblige.
“You dress me then,” she smiled, putting her crutches aside and then raising her arms.
He made a perfect tease of putting on her bra. Standing behind her in front of the mirror, he took his time before letting the fastener at the back seal the result of meticulously arranging her boobs in the underwired cups. Their voluptuous lushness was a tremendous thrill, and one much enhanced by her broad smiling. Women with big breasts weren’t always comfortable with having them, but she showed no signs of that, on the contrary. She was arching her back to make them push out, and she welcomed every bit of lustful kneading of her of supple tit flesh, totally at ease with his hands accentuating she had a huge amount of it.
“I love your not minding this,” he whsipered in her ear.
“I am who I am, and I’m happy with you enjoying me.”
“Including my request?” he asked, just to make sure.
“Just trust me to say no to anything I don’t wanna do, okay?” she smiled into the mirror. “I think your request is cute.”
“And would you do it more often?” he asked.
She frowned a little, but in a curious way. “You’d like me to then?”
“For the same reason?”
“Partly,” he replied. “I meant the more often as in when we’re together. If you feel better wearing the leg it’s fine of course. I just want you to know I think you’re your most natural you without it.”
It made her giggle with surprise.
“Um… you hit a nail on the head without knowing?”
“What if I told you I always take the pros off as soon as I get home when I’m alone?”
“Unless I’m going out later I do yes.”
“Then why don’t you when I’m with you?”
“Dunno. Habit? I always have it on when I see people. But you’re not people, I know that,” she grinned, observing through the mirror how he was fumbling to get her t-shirt ready for putting on.
“So, I could either give you permission to take it off whenever you feel like, which would be my preference, or we can make it a rule that I have it off whenever you’re around. And considering what you just said, I’m guessing that to be yours,” she replied, rather liking how she was showing him she was starting to know him well.
“I wanna know your why before deciding,” he grinned, at the same time sliding the t-shirt over her head.
She helped him to adjust it properly, totally not minding he took his chance to touch her breasts again. “It would feel good to see you take it off,” she then replied. “My ex never did, which always made me feel he didn’t really care about the emotional side of it for me. It’s a real help to see someone you care for be at ease to expose your amputation, even when you’re fine with having it.”
“Then we’ll do it your way, of course.”
She smiled. “I’ll teach you then. It’s pretty easy by the way.”
She smiled again when his hands moved down. Looking in the mirror, she watched him cup her stump and explore it without reservation. It was another thing her ex had never done, and feeling the joy of now having a lover who did, she was all the more happy to have put an end to her marriage. It hadn’t been crucial, her ex never doing it, but it had been one of many things that told her he was taking her for granted. And for her, that was not what life was about.
“A little wiser now about my stump?” she asked, referring to his earlier questions.
“A little, yes. But I still need more exploration,” he smiled, curiously tickling it and watching the reflexes.
“Take your time,” she smiled. “It feels exciting.”
“Exciting in what way?” he continued, teasingly.
“You being such a horny bastard, everything you do with my body feels lust driven, this not excepted,” she smiled.
“And it isn’t, excepted I mean,” he replied.
“That feels rather good to hear…”
“It’s got a very sexual-ish charm, you know, being so sensuously rounded and soft.”
“Mmm, I’ll go by your rule after all then,” she chuckled.
“We’ll go by my rule indoors and leave outdoors to you, how’s that?”
“Sounds perfect,” she smiled, blowing him a kiss. “Ready then to show the world you’re not minding your lover to be one-legged?”
“Ready to show the world how sexy I find my one-legged Swedish princess, yes,” he winked, playfully squeezing her stump a last time.
“No worries, I’ll show them alright,” she giggled.
It was not too warm, so she needed a coat. She made it her down jacket, well warm enough for the walk into town and well short enough to show off her tight clad buttocks and prominently visible stump.
And she found it great to see that I’m drooling look when she showed him.