Story – Polish pleasures (3) – Unworn gift

“I find still strange,” she said.
“And why is that?”
“When man gives woman present, he want to see her wear. You do not.”

She wasn’t looking as if she minded though. And neither did he. He’d bought her a C-leg because he couldn’t bear her having to use an old-fashioned and very uncomfortable stiff prosthesis. Running her bed & breakfast included physical labor, not overly strenuous, but with a leg amputation a lot of things tended to be a little harder. He’d seen her refuse his offer to pay for a better one many times though, finding him disproportionally generous. But being sort of steady meanwhile, and him having pulled off an extremely profitable business deal, had made her give in. Since a couple of weeks, she was gratefully enjoying the comfort of a proper artificial leg.

“It has a reason,” he grinned, eying her.
“Hmm, I think I know reason. But always nice to hear you say it,” she replied, letting herself be eyed.
“And how would you like me to say it? The gentleman way or the naughty way?”
“You a gentleman I already know…” she chuckled.
“Very well then,” he smiled, still eying her. “The reason is that I find you unbelievably sexy with one leg. I very much want you to show it, I find it mesmerisingly beautiful when you’re using crutches or when you hop on your one leg, and the sight of your beautiful short stump makes me so hard I could fuck you on the spot.”
“Mmm… in that case… I think… I don’t mind you take off my present,” she teased.
“Not too much trouble then?” his gentleman side inquired.
“No, I need to change for go to restaurant, not?”
“Yes, you do, darling,” he grinned. “I want you to look pretty.”

She smiled broadly as he went down on his knees. Using his shoulders as a rest, she let him take off the shoe of her good leg, then her pants were smoothly unzipped and pulled down.

“And how you like me most pretty tonight? In dress?”
“Yes, the dark blue one,” he replied instantly. “Your boobies look great in it.”
“My boobies look big in blue dress,” she pouted.
“Maybe that’s why I want you to wear it?” he replied, smiling subtly.

She giggled, from what he said and because he was rather ostentatiously sliding her pants down far enough to have access to her prosthesis. At his own request, he’d already been instructed elaborately, so he knew the drill. Smugly trying to look like an expert, he fiddled the plastic tab sealing the valve, unscrewed it, and smiled when he heard a puff of air release the vacuum.

“Ready to loose a leg?” he winked.

She nodded, giggling again and now grabbing his shoulders more firmly to keep her balance. The tube socket came off smoothly. He put the leg aside, cupped her stump with both hands and rolled off the silicone hose protecting it. Then he put that aside as well, and finally he welcomed her bare stump with a few soft kneads, a sensuous kiss, and an excited smile.

“Mmm, sweet,” she smiled warmly, looking down.
“I’d say you shouldn’t put your leg back on after changing,” he grinned. “You look much too sexy this way.”
“More sweet!”

It always made her feel good how much he preferred her to not wear the prosthesis when they went out. Not only did he worship her being one-legged, he almost insisted to be seen with her the way she looked, and did with beaming pride. It made his erotic attraction much more than just a bedroom fetish, she found. Not that she minded his fascination with her stump and everything that came with having only one leg, preferring her to openly show what she was missing demonstrated he wasn’t ashamed to be seen in the company of an amputee. It was proof of a choice for the woman she was.

“Somehow, I feel you not finished yet,” she grinned as he pulled out her pants.
“It’s a gentleman’s service to a lady who is about to change into a beguiling dress,” he replied, getting on his feet again.
“Gentleman who touches boobies a lot when taking off sweater,” she chuckled as she felt his hands. “And I decided already to wear dress? I don’t think…” she teased.

She’d wear the dress allright. With pleasure. She would love his revelling in its daring décolleté, his lustful stares at her breasts spanning the thin straps. She would also not wear his present tonight, as she would accentuate her having one leg with a sexy stocking and the highest high heel she was able to walk on with some degree of comfort. The pain to her toes was for later. He’d surely treat them with a tender massage if she’d ask him to, and he very well might without her asking.

“I’m merely holding you tight, darling,” replied, trying to sound innocent.
“I don’t fall. Very experienced to stand with one leg,” she grinned.
“I know you are,” he whispered into her ear as he made the sweater slide over her head. “But I’d never want you to stand uncomfortably when I’ve taken off your leg for my pleasure.”

Next to fascinated by, he was also very considerate in everything regarding her amputation. The gift he preferred her not to wear in his presence was an expression of genuine concern. Much as he was excited by her having one leg, he wanted her to live as comfortable a life as possible with it. Actually, he felt a lot more responsible than he needed to, she thought. He had nothing to do with how she lost the leg after all, and neither were they having a relationship that should make him as responsible as he was. They weren’t living together. They were lovers, had a weekend relationship that’d sometimes pause for a month. It was more than no strings attached, definitely more. But to her, it didn’t warrant the gift of a very expensive prosthesis, she had long found. Only when his business had made a blast-deal, she’d reluctantly allowed him to be so generous. And she had to admit, she was glad she had.

“And maybe I also find your boobies very irresistable…” he added with a wide grin.
“You eh…can’t wear this bra with that dress, can you?” he teased, reaching behind her back to unclasp it.

She straightened her shoulders when he took it off, pushing out her breasts to allow him a good look. Fate had been unkind to her, Mother Nature had not. In a non-mannequin way she had a very good figure, and so far it was standing the test of time remarkably well, she found. And in his case, the hidden pride she was showing it with was greatly enhanced by not needing to worry about the missing part. Not that worry determined her life, but its total absence felt pretty good.

“Just one final thing then,” he said, slipping a fingertip behind the elastics of her panties.

He’d picked her left side for it, with reason. All it took there was to slide it past her stump. Unless the panties stretched very tight, gravity would then do the rest. And it did. She felt them slipping down along her leg, and then there was his grin to tell her they were, as well as the classic male response. He’d taken off his jacket and tie first thing when he’d arrived, but he was in business suit. And business suit trousers were not good at hiding erections. Actually they were pretty good at showing them in full glory, she thought, grinning meaningfully as she looked.

“How long you here now? Five minutes?” she chuckled.
“About, why?” he replied, well knowing what she meant but playing innocent.
“Look at me and look at you…”
“I’m seeing a fully naked beautiful lady and a man very happy to see her,” he whispered into her ear as he embraced her thrilling nudity. “Anything wrong with that?”
“It’s fast?” she replied, whispering too and sliding a hand down his shirt, and further.
“Is fast wrong?”
“No, fast is nice. But also it is still surprising for me. For you not?”

She wasn’t asking as if she minded. Because she didn’t at all. There’d been other lovers in her life, but none of them had ever come close to this simply never diminishing desire of his. She’d come to expect it meanwhile, but that was not the same as no longer being surprised. It still struck her every time she saw him again, with great pleasure. She’d been an amputee for much too long to still be seriously bothered by it, but his company really felt like the world of appreciation inverting in her favour. In stead of making a reason for pity, or to be stared at, she was now more beautiful for her amputated leg. Quite frankly, it was safe to say it thrilled the heck out of him. It caused a pleasantly tingling trance of feeling very special, from the moment he made his entrance all the way to his unwished departure. And she’d come to cherish that uninterrupted delight.

“Deep in my heart, I’ve been looking for you all my life,” he replied. “A woman I like and match with, a woman I find very sexy, and a woman I find irrestistable for having a high leg amputation. So no, it’s not surprising for me, and you shouldn’t count on it that it ever will. Every time I’ll see you again, I know my desire for you will gush, instantly and unstoppably.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him confess this. But it felt great every time he did. There was no reply needed, not in words. The look of her eyes and a beaming smile said it all, as did the hands that were now fumbling his trousers. She freed his cock from the bulging briefs, fisting it the moment it popped out. His deep moan only encouraged her. Without a trace of shame, she looked deep into his eyes. She knew he couldn’t stop looking down now, but that was quite okay. Her stump lifted up, pointing at the throbbing erection she was working without mercy. She made the muscles twitch with only the aim to arouse him.

After the restaurant, they’d have the rest of the evening, and all night, and then the whole long weekend. She wasn’t worrying at all this would mean no more sex today. For a man his age, he was quick to recover. And very likely, she was the one who made him, a thought she found very exciting. And so, and very much on purpose, she jerked him off using her stump as the loosely convulsing weapon of seduction that left his excitement without defense.

He stared at her, in silent daze. There was no holding back in how she played his arousal. He saw her breasts move in the rhythm of her breathing, pushed out with pride. Her naughy resolute stare was accentuated by eyelashes fluttering fast. Her fist clenched tight around a seething hardness, the twisted position of her arm and wrist boosting it in a jerky way. And standing on her one leg with experienced balance, she let her loosely twitching stump arouse him with shuddering intensity.

“You will wear that dress?” he asked, in an idle attempt to postpone the inevitable.
“I let you put it on. But first this…” she whispered, smiling with subtle triumph.

Now their eyes were locked. And there was a silence only broken by his gasping. In a very sensuous way, she was totally without mercy. She knew the special power of her body, she’d learned to use it, and so she knew there was no force required. His attraction was well strong enough to let a tender jerking be sufficient, and she’d probably never stop being flattered just how little was needed to make him spurt out his adoration of her stump.

Then the silence broke again, but now much louder. And humming with pleasure, she felt the vigorous release splatter.


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