“So you’ll be here around what time?”
Squeezing her iPhone unconsciously, Petra smiled as she listened to his answer. ‘His’ was Julian’s, an angelic looking student twenty years younger than herself, and nevertheless her lover of two months to the day today.
“Mmm, that’s earlier than I’d hoped. And I like it…”
A hand played through her hair, stroking along her right earlobe, her phone held against the left. Another smile, and her voice turned seductive.
They’d been dating for eight days more, but she counted from the first time they’d landed in bed. Or rather the ecstatic orgasms he’d given her, and the state of total depletion she’d left her toy boy in, because that’s how she playfully called him. Like he called her his insatiable cougar, often adding a second adjective that was equally true: amputee.
“Of course I’ll wear something nice. Maybe not for long, but I will,” she whispered.
His very naughty reply made her giggle. Julian’s big blue eyes, soft and almost feminine expression and long, curly black hair gave his appearance the innocence she often called angelic. When she’d first met him – he was the latest member of a reading group she’d joined as part of getting her new social life started – she’d rather intuitively assumed him to be gay. His very esthetical cultural interest, his gesturing, his choice of words, it all matched up.
Her assumption was wrong though. Once sharing a love for arts and a few other interests got them to talk regularly, it soon turned out he was a man interested in her being a woman. It also turned out he didn’t consider their age difference a problem. And neither did he find it a problem Petra was missing her right leg, which was mildlly put, Petra was soon to find out.
“Looking forward, sexy stud. You have no idea how much…”
There were a few more teasing remarks back and forth. Then she hung up, sighed deep and smiled with expectation. He’d be early tonight, pleasantly early, but it’d be another two hours before his crappy old Kia would turn onto the drive, so time enough for a nice long bath and time enough to ponder what she’d wear to make sure his first looking at her the would be how she liked it most.
Not that it was all too hard to have his big blue eyes get that wanton stare she adored. Two months of being lovers had made quite clear he had a huge weakness for her petite slenderness, and his desire for her was in no way tempered by her leg amputation, rather the reverse. She’d been flabbergasted by his revelations initially, by now it was safe to say it had also made her more confident with her appearance than she’d ever hoped to be so soon after the amputation, now almost a year ago.
That same year ago, she was also still married, married to a man who’d been in the right business at the right moment. It’d made him preposterous amounts of money and it had given the pretty wife to match his luck a very carefree life. Spending a workman’s monthly salary during an afternoon of shopping wasn’t exceptional, and the household of their countryside mansion was run by a staff of eight, to name but a few examples of what she now called perverse luxury.
Her running into a very rare case of bone cancer at adult age had changed it all, shockingly and shockingly fast. And there was a huge difference in how she’d describe what had happened. For her, it was being diagnosed with a frightful illness, that had led to amputation of her right leg within a mere three weeks. For him, it was a disturbance of his smoothly successful life that money couldn’t solve, and seeing his trophy wife turn into a cripple. For him, her losing her leg meant little more than a long-legged brunette by his side forever belonging to the past. It also meant he lost interest in her, gained interest in other women too.
She’d always been forgiving in that respect – as women in those circles were implicitly expected to – but she’d played hardball when he wanted a divorce. Their former group of friends consisted of quite a few lawyers, a distinctly cunning one had taken her side, they’d let a private investigator properly document her husband’s preliminary adulterate activities and the rest was a mean law suit that ended in her being awarded a chunk of his fortune big enough to never have financial worries anymore.
Disgusted with the morals she’d seen in action, she’d burned her boats, moved to another part of the country and started a new life. And when it became clear the amputation had conquered the cancer, her new start truly felt like a new life too. There’d been a terrible price to pay: her leg had had to be taken off below the hip, so she’d always be facing serious limitations. But she could afford the best of care to help make things a little easier, and despite having been quite spoiled for quite some time, she wouldn’t be dejected by what had befallen her. In a weird way, fighting and overcoming the challenges were even giving her pleasure, satisfaction. Her former life had made her forget what it was to really have to fight for something, and finding back happiness and joy in life as an amputee who’d been dumped without a trace of mercy was exactly that.
Determined to make the new start a good one, she’d taken up a few things she’d always enjoyed, but that’d got lost as well in the life she had lived. She’d started reading again, had joined a local reading club, and she liked to call it the reward for her determination that it’d made her meet the handsome young student she’d just had on the phone. Petra still prided herself for having had the guts to invite him for dinner at her place, a guy she’d basically just met. A guy who could be her son if she’d started having kids early; that thought often crossed her mind. But who was making her feel on top of the world, with their age difference only being a fruitful source for mutual teasing. As there was something else that was.
“You think that’s weird?”
He had asked looking pretty innocent. But he’d been very serious nonetheless. His question had followed a confession: that he wasn’t turned off at all by her right leg being amputated, and by adding “I find it extremely sexy” in response to her open-mouthed “What!?”.
She’d been flabbergasted, but not shocked. Somehow it fitted into the picture she had of him. His tastes combined a very esthetical look at things with a preference for the unusual, tastes ranging from incomprehensible modern art and music to what Petra called ‘unreadable’ books, to weird food, strange people, shocking pictures and most anything that was close to falling apart, with his fifteen year old car as a proud example. In an unusual way that only made sense if you knew him, Julian was fascinated by the imperfect. And while he did realise others would find this preference controversial, there was no doubt he found Petra’s leg amputation perfectly beautiful himself.
She had always found his creatively uncommon way of thinking intriguing. In fact, it’d been what ignited her interest in him. Possibly as a counter-reaction to her former life, but still. She appreciated he’d been honest to confess at the first occasion private enough to do so, which was a risk. For all he could know then, it could well have put an instant end to the promising thing they had, after all. So she’d given him credit, obviously unable to be at ease just like that, but trusting she had not run into some pervert.
It soon turned out she hadn’t. Julian had been eager to introduce her to his friends, a close group of people who had in common they were all young people who refused to be mainstream. On the verge of exaggeration perhaps, Petra thought now and then, but that was maybe because she was old in comparison, and no doubt because she’d been used to a life very, very much different from theirs until pretty recently.
Despite their differences, she was very smoothly accepted by his group of friends. When she got to chat with one of them – a smart and very attractive looking young lady named Babette – she was told she might very well be the one Julian had always been looking for. Babette had also confessed having a huge crush on Julian, but that he’d always turned her down. When Petra frowningly asked why – most guys would dream of dating her, she imagined – she got a remarkable answer: “I have two legs.”
It had explained Julian’s near instant interest in her at the reading club. It also told her his preference was no fantasy thing for him. Babette assured her Julian had always been quite open in how his girlfriend would have to look physically, and that she’d not been the first ‘not unworthwhile two-legged’ – as she’d grinningly called it herself – to see her advances remain unanswered.
It’d made Petra worry a little too: for this attraction to remain immune to the amount of smart- and attractiveness Babette had to offer, it’d have to be pretty strong. Babette was also the one to reassure her worries though. With a you’re-not-gonna-tell-him-I-told-you-this smile, she’d told Petra Julian had called her “the woman of his wildest dreams” when first telling Babette about having met her, with her leg amputation not remaining unmentioned, but after “five minutes of other superlatives”, as Babette had added with a wink telling Petra she should count on Julian’s liking her being pretty serious.
The lingerings made Petra undress with a smile on her face. Taking off her prosthesis had already become a routine, both as act now part of daily practice and in how it made her feel to see her stump. An unexplained but potentially very worrying new black spot on the last scan they took of her leg had made the surgeon decide to go safe. The result had been an amputation below the hip, in stead of the just above the knee loss of her leg she’d been trying to prepare for. The amputation needing to be done so high had been an extra blow, as well as an unfortunately very justified reason for increased worries, worries now happily belonging to the past. The tumor she’d been diagnosed with possessed a wry convenience: there was a frightfully big chance of not surviving it, but if you weren’t going to, you’d know within half a year. Once those six months were over, your chances of living were more or less back to normal, beit with a leg amputatiion that made using a prosthesis trying and fatiguing, even with the state of the art C-leg she’d been fitted with. A day of active use would leave her short stump literally exhausted from constantly putting the artificial leg in the motion required to have it take the steps the amputation had left her unable to take herself.
It always made the cramps of hard work coming to an end feel like a giant relief. And with Julian in her thoughts, the relief became pleasant as well. Babette’s revelations had helped a lot to make her trust the sincerity of Julian’s attraction, and since she did, having one leg had become a burden much lighter to bear. The challenges would always remain, and Julian nor anyone else could ever help her face and beat them. What Juian could help though, was make her worries of no longer being attractive for a man disappear.
And he very much did.
Actually, taking off her leg had become a bit of a symbolic act between the two of them, so much so that taking it off with him not watching caused the same response as if he was. In his words, the C-leg was “much too hi-tech for a guy driving a fifteen year old wreck of a car”, but that was the joking way to put it. The blunt but exciting way was telling her he couldn’t get enough of her stump showing in all its naked beauty, and that her leg was taken off “arousingly high”, as he meanwhile wasn’t shy to put it: once she’d told him he should feel free with his attraction, he was doing so without reserve.
And it was safe to say she’d come to like it.
Rolling off the silicone stump socket liner, she imagined him watching her. It was the action that revealed “the essence of her special beauty”. Petra had never felt to be sorry for, but it had taken her a little time to fully enjoy the way Julian didn’t at all. He found it truly exciting to see her scar appear, as well as seeing her flex and relax the muscles of her very stressed stump. The good and much appreciated side was that he loved to relieve that stress with heavenly massages, still Julian touching her stump was very much an experience of feeling the hands of a man who didn’t mind one bit her leg was amputated. Who even looked at her surgeon’s decision to go safe as it having given Petra the perfect very high amputation. “I cannot hold back in liking you the way I do,” he’d once put it. And that was pretty exactly how it felt.
As confronting as his shameless enjoyment of her being an amputee was, it had definitely changed how she looked at herself, quite a lot and astonishingly fast. She’d fought herself through this with a perseverance worthy of her name – Petra meaning rock or stone in ancient Greek – but running into Julian had added a new dimension to that fight. One that required guts, and one that’d made her dare to see her amputation as not only bad, impractical, mutilating or otherwise something she had to learn to cope with.
In his eyes it wasn’t bad to be missing a leg, not at all, and even that was mildly put. The gutsy part was to allow herself to think he wasn’t wrong, and have her feeling about herself accept that. It hadn’t been easy, to look at her stump, to fully realise the confronting truth of surgical removal and yet smilingly allow him to find the uncontrolled flexing of her muscles really arousing. But she had done it, she had repeated doing it too and had come to enjoy it. She’d unlikely ever share his view of finding it sexy and beautiful, let alone arousing, but it sure felt great to see him make his point.
Julian made her feel desired like ‘before’. Petra wasn’t just an attractive woman, she’d been a rich guy’s trophy wife with “fairly decent reason”, as Julian would call it. And not finding that to be untrue herself had made the amputation hit her self-image hard. Seeing heads turn as she made her entrance at some party for the very rich was a pleasure she now knew she could well live without, there had been times when she considered it vital, and learning to see it wasn’t at all had once been an important part of her fight.
Before Julian, having won that fight basically consisted of having given those pleasures a place in a past that was never going to come back again. With Julian, those pleasures had returned again. Without the exclusive parties, without the haute couture dresses she used to wear, without heads turning and without her right leg. But on and again, and with very good reason, she wondered if she’d ever been found more beautiful and desirable than by the bright blue eyes of this blatantly honest young man.
With the money she’d got out of her divorce, Petra could easily have bought a much fancier house than she actually had. There were two things she hadn’t cut on though. Her house had a large and perfectly secluded garden, as well as a divinely luxurious bathroom with a power shower, a jacuzzi and a bath all for two. And maybe there were three things, since the garden had a generous swimming pool she used twice a day to keep in shape, and a lot more often because she’d come to love water. Floating weightlessly was a wonderful way to be unhampered by missing a leg.
She had the bathroom equipped with anti-slip floor tiles. Or rather, the guy in charge of the rebuilding had advised her to have that done, for which she still thanked him every day, including this moment. Petra was fully undressed now and on her way to the bath, and being able to do that without feeling unsafe was one of those things making life easier. With only one leg to keep your balance, potentially slippery floors were scary as hell, and she hated every feeling coming close to appearing in need of help.
Having survived a most threatening attack on her life had made her promise herself to never complain about the price for her survival, a promise she stuck to with a stubbornness that had increased since she met Julian. It was her way to show him she managed quite well with what he liked so much about her looks. Being okay with him finding her stump hot was not the same as allowing him to think it made her disabled. Having one leg had its limitations, especially when she wasn’t wearing the prosthesis, which was often the case in his company. But they were limitations she could deal with, and did without ever complaining, especially in his company.
The water was just the right temperature, making her slide into the bath in one long sigh of satisfaction. She placed her arms on the back edge, closed her eyes, and inhaled deep to let the perfumes of the bath foam catch her nostrils and relax her. There was time enough to make this a long bath, and time enough to let the anticipation of her lover soon making his intensely desired reappearance tickle her senses.
She’d never urged him to spend more time with her than he felt he wished to spend. She knew his friends were important to him, as his studies were. She well realised her life was very different from his, in many respects and not only because she was twenty years his senior. They had a promising amount of things in common, and they shared interests she found wonderful to share with someone. And still a classic relationship did not feel as a very likely outcome. Not that she would mind eventually, provided things proceeded the fluent way they did at this moment. But it wasn’t very probable, and neither was she ready to step into a full committment so soon after a nasty divorce.
Enjoying the pleasures of this young man’s lusting for her was quite okay though, and as she let her thoughts run free, she felt her hands slide under water, wantonly on their way to pleasurable spots.
Her breasts were the modest size to go harmoniously with her slender posture. She could well do without a bra, even when the first signs of juvenile beauty fading were showing. Her early fourties considered, she still looked great, although it took more and more to keep in shape. Her two half hours of daily swimming had been upgraded to fourty minutes, and there’d been some fitness equipment delivered at her house recently. But that was also because there was extra motivation in Julian’s bright blue eyes drinking in her nakedness. They were always fully naked when in bed or at the swimming pool, but they’d often be for the whole day if they had nothing planned and weren’t expecting anyone. And she loved every minute of it.
Her nipples felt excitingly sensitive. Taking her time to stimulate them to near painful tightness was a wonderful way to set her naughty thoughts free. It was four days ago, their last confirmation of wanting everything of one another, rather too long for her current libido.
It varied strongly with how she felt, and it’d been down to zero for quite some time. Losing a leg and then a husband had been a killer to most every sexual desire, the very occasional masturbation to be rid of pressures becoming disturbing excluded. Meeting Julian had meant a total change though. Frankly she couldn’t remember ever having been so eager for sex as she currently was, not even in her roaring twenties. And the most exciting thing about her current lusts was her enjoying them so much more freely. Partly it was catching up something she’d not felt like for too long. Partly it was doing that catch-up with someone much younger, with the sex drive to go with that age. Julian’s almost feminine appearance notwithstanding, he performed like a stallion. And his totally preferring her to be the amputee she was, greatly contributed to her very much wanting him to be that stallion. His hand kneading her stump turning his cock into a sledge-hammering rod of lust could make her growl in complete surrender, and quite a few of their fucks had ended in an exhaustion she’d never thought possible. Julian knew how to fuck her brains out, and he loved it every bit as much as Petra did herself.
There was more than just the sexual part that made her feel free though. Liking his circle of friends and liking how easily they had accepted her, she’d regulalry invite them at her place, mostly at weekends. They’d have barbecues by the swimming pool then. that usually ended very late and after many hours best characterised as a pleasant mix of passionate discussion, free-spirited relaxedness and truly great fun.
Petra had been surprised to see them all take their clothes off the first time she invited them for a swim – without a single soul even considering to ask. She wasn’t really used to this sort of ease to be naked for ‘strangers’, but she meanwhile took it as naturally part of how these people wished to be friends: without hiding anything, be they male or female, which the group was equally. Next to Julian there were Maurice and William, Babette formed the trio of females with Patricia and Monique, and all six of them formed a group whose ustrained closeness never ceased to make Petra smile.
Also, Petra’s joining in with the habit had been a great help in learning to be totally at ease with others seeing how she looked. It felt as if they – with everyone knowing Julian’s preferences in this respect – actually expected Petra to be missing a leg, and they treated it with the same unabashed normality they treated everything with. And while it had taken Petra a little getting used to, she now looked at it as the best way to get over the things one-legged women showing themselves naked to others tend to worry about. The second time had been a lot easier already, and meanwhile it felt like the perfectly normal thing to do. With no one considering her being an amputee to be bad or feel sorry for, she was treated as the person she was, without the fact being avoided in any way.
Some holding back was required now. With so many pleasant thoughts, four days of abstination made playing with herself go fast. And while it brought a smile to her face to notice just how fast, she had other plans. Petra wanted to welcome her lover with every bit of desire for him still inside her.
It would show, she knew, as she knew he’d instantly respond to it. If he’d be in a similar mood – which he would most likely be – they might not even make it to the living room. The thought of him already pushing her against the wall in the hallway didn’t make controlling herself easier. Julian was free of shame in many ways, and his showing no reluctance to want her without a word having been exchanged yet was definitely his most exciting demonstration of lack of inhibition. It was also a very exciting way of still finding herself to be desirable, convincing enough to make the word ‘still’ start to disappear from her thoughts. Meanwhile, Petra had no trouble to believe she hadn’t become less attractive. It still went too far to fully step into his world of finding her more attractive for having only one leg, but neither was there anything resisting that idea. No doubt it was unusual to find what Julian found of her, his finding her stump incredibly sexy was very true as well, and on and again she’d smilingly welcome that truth’s existence as a pleasant providence in return for what fate had forced her to cope with.
The fluffy towel gently electrified her skin. A bit of lotion to moisten it. Not too much though, and she picked the one most neutral in scent. Julian much preferred her to smell like her, and Petra loved how he could inhale her natural body scents with sniffing-dog hunger: her neck, her breasts, her arm pits and of course the rich scenting region between her thighs.
Dried and ready to dress, she hopped to the dressing table in her bedroom, again enjoying the safety of the special tiles, then the softness of the carpeting. It’d only been a year, the dramatic change in her life. And yet it felt amazingly normal already to no longer have a right leg. Her system had adapted to her new physical reality, so well it was safe to say it had forgotten the leg that was amputated, forgotten as in her subconsciousness taking it into account without having to think. And since knowing Julian, this subsconcious convenience had become enriched by a very conscious awareness of being found very specially beautiful.
Petra sat down, opening the drawer that stored her lingerie. Or rather, one of them that did. A subtle smile when she pulled out her tiniest of strings. It covered the traingle of short trimmed brown hair. But only just, as it was meant to. The garterbelt and silk stocking were the same shade of beige, a colour that would leave her options what to wear on top open, because she hadn’t made up her mind yet. Maybe a stylish leather mini skirt, maybe more provocative hot pants. The latter would be a guaranteed success, since they would have her stump peek out. That would give it all away at once though, and maybe she preferred to tickle him by having it covered, say in skinny jeans, which would definitely show her butt the best way. All in all, there was a lot of pondering to be done, but there was time enough.
And while there was, she enjoyed an exciting itch. The itch of the cougar awakening.