Lake: Isabel

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I had been in love with Isabel before, maybe two times, maybe three. Each breakup had been progressively worse for me, maybe for her as well. I knew there were secrets we kept from each other. Maybe that was the reason.

I often wrote stories about her. I kept them in a journal. I never shared them with anyone. I knew no one else would understand. I often read them and thought about what it would have been like.

The web page of pictures of women missing legs slowly fills as my hand strolls over my erection, my pants resting on the floor around my only foot. I become concerned that I will cream long before they all display. I imagine that several look like Isabel, though I know it is impossible. It is an ongoing fantasy, that she would have wanted to be like the woman in the pictures, or at least pretended to be that way.

For seven years since our last – and probably final – breakup, I have dated a few women like those in the pictures. One had even lived with me for six months. Sex was great. We just didn’t match in any other area. Thoughts of Isabel also clouded my feelings for the woman.

The last picture displays just as the glob of come lands on the desk and keyboard next to some dried remains of prior similar moments. A few more follow. I rip some paper towel from the roll on the desk and swipe at the globs and toss it in the trash.

I close the web page and shove my crutches under my arms. With a deft kick of my lone foot, my pants sail towards the bed before I make my way to the shower. The warm stream cascades tenderly along my body. I picture Isabel standing next to me in a tropical pool under a waterfall as we fondle each other’s leg stumps. Such is a recurring vision, one that leaves me comfortable.

The remains of the past climax swirl down the drain like hopes of having Isabel back. My last encounter with any woman now months in the past, the last amputee even farther. I watch the water drain over the short stump of my left leg in drips and rivulets then splash over my remaining foot. The stump waves through the air, shaking water away, then becomes still. I have no regrets for having the leg off. I did it for my own needs.

As I crutch past the desk, I notice the bouncing icon letting me know I have aa new message. I don’t recognize the sender, but read the text.

‘Dave, I hope you remember me – Isabel. I know our times together have been, charged. I don’t know the right word. There were some good moments. I choose to remember only those. Things have changed for me, as I am sure they have for you. A marriage ended and other things have happened. I would love to meet and catch up. No pressure for anything more, mind you. Let me know. XX – Isabel.’

I draft a reply, several times starting fresh, hating the way it sounds each time. Eventually, I proof the third try, what I am about to send.

‘Isabel, I could never forget you. I was actually thinking about you in the past few hours. Yeah, I’ve changed some as well, probably not in the same way as for you. Wouldn’t that be strange if it were? I would love to talk, meet, whatever. Call me. I have the same cell number. Dave.’

I click ‘send’ and my erection reaches for the ceiling, begging for release. I hop to the bed and flop on my back, one hand wraps around my shaft, the other around the soft end of my stump. I picture her missing a leg and us crutching together in some place exotic.

The phone rings just before I explode.

“Hello?” I say, slightly annoyed, looking at the ‘Unknown’ caller-id.

“Dave? It’s Isabel.”

All annoyance fades rapidly. Her voice is like music and all she has said are the three words.

“Wow. It is wonderful to hear your voice again.”

“Likewise. It’s been a long time. A lot of water under the bridge, as they say.”

We talk for a few minutes, never explaining what we meant by ‘making changes’. I offer to visit. We make plans and she gives me directions.

Lake Jefferson is several hundred miles away over mostly two-lane country roads. Fortunately, the scenery is lovely and the weather great. With the top down on the Miata and the wind in my hair, I have a blast racing though curves and over the rolling countryside. I got it because it was one of the few sports cars with automatic transmission. The last fifty miles rim the huge lake past large homes and fancy resorts. I take a quick peek at a buxom woman on skis dancing across the boat wake and imagine how her skimpy bikini would be ripped off if she fell, how much fun it would be to rescue her.

I glance up just in time to beşevler escort bayan see I’ve drifted over the center line and heading for a large truck. I jerk the wheel and avoid disaster, but not before his loud horn leaves my ears ringing. I pat my chest to calm down and click the CD player on.

Ten minutes later I see the billboard she mentioned, then the milepost beside her drive. I turn and the rocks pound the underside of the car and a cloud of dust hides all behind me. I bounce over a railroad track then continue along the gravel road.

My heart pounds with the excitement of seeing her again. The fear of seeing her also fills me. I consider what to say about why my leg is gone. I have several stories I tell people when asked and I pick one. I want to tell her the truth, but fear that will queer every chance of having this be more than a quick meeting.

Before I dwell much longer on what to say, I see a single large one-level house with the lake just behind it. Parked near a wheelchair ramp leading to the porch is a dark-blue van. I take it all in, puzzled, confused.

I park, shut the door, and drag my crutches from the car. By the time I have them around my forearms and look at the house again, I hear her voice behind me.

“Look at-t you-u,” she drawls.

I glance around and Isabel sits in a blood red, sports wheelchair with wire spoke wheels. The short skirt lays flat on the thick black cushion. Her hands rest on the top of each wheel, rocking the chair back and forth.

“Holy shit!” I exclaim, unable to think of anything else to say.

“I hope that is meant in a good way,” she teases. “Bend down here and give me a kiss.” Her hands reach toward the sky as if to guide my face towards hers.

The kiss is more than just welcoming. Her tongue explores my mouth in familiar ways. My tongue does as well, until an ache in my back reminds me how long I’ve bent over. I consider picking her up, but realize how quickly we would fall to the ground – a problem with having one leg. Instead, I stand and take in her new appearance.

“What?” I fumble for anything to say and fail.

“Let’s go in. I got some Corona, that still ‘is’ your favorite beer, isn’t it? I made up some sandwiches. There’s a wonderful breeze off the lake today. Did you bring a swimsuit?”

Her words flow like water from a fire hose and I let them wash over me as I stare at her sitting in the wheelchair.

“At night, it is a little private here. We don’t need swimsuits.” She snickers and drags a hand over the front of my trousers. “Just checking … still there.” She snickers again.

I follow her up the ramp and through the front door. The home is mostly one large room with hardwood floors. Down a hall are what I assume are bedrooms, though it is not clear how many. A large stone fireplace fills one wall of the great room. Past the kitchen are two sets of French doors out to the deck.

“Great place,” I say, still following her as I glance around.

“One of several perks from the broken marriage.” She points towards the house. “Beer’s in the fridge. Grab two.”

She parks the wheelchair by a table on the deck and moves to a padded wrought-iron chair. I put an opened bottle in front of her then drag a chair so I can face her without anything between us.

“Interesting new look,” I softly say, and then take a large sip.

“Same for you. Accident?”

I pause, take another sip, and then don’t answer. I instead let my eyes roam over her, thinking other than the lack of legs, how little she has changed.

Her eyes take in a studied look before speaking. “I used to see you sneak peeks at people missing legs. I had no idea you’d be one someday. I like the new look.”

“I didn’t know you saw that.”

“Hell, I was looking too.” She laughs then takes a large gulp.

“Oh-h,” I drawl. “I guess this wasn’t an accident then.” I point the top of the bottle towards her.

“Hardly. Michael encouraged me once he realized. I would pretend for him.”

“Shit-t! What a fool I was to keep it from you.”

“Hey, I kept it from you too. I was scared shitless to tell anyone, even you.”

She sucks the rest of the beer in a single chug then holds the empty bottle up towards me, suggesting she is ready for another. I return with two more bottles.

“How’d he find out?”

“One day at the mall, he pointed out some woman with one leg, using crutches. She had a great ass on her too. He told me that he found women like her strangely interesting. I asked if he wanted me balgat escort bayan to be that way. He simply nodded as he continued to watch her until she was out of sight.”

“For me, this has been a life long thing. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know.” I finish the first bottle and sip from the second. “Like everyone, a deep dark secret. I’ve never told anyone.” I take another big gulp.

“Yeah-h,” she drawls. “Deep dark … secret.”

She scans the lake as if searching for something then looks at me, and smiles.

“I had no idea,” I say after a long moment of silence.

“He knew someone, a surgeon overseas. Money wasn’t an issue. I had the left one off, probably about as short as yours is. It was good, especially those first months, maybe the whole first year.”

“What’d you tell people?”

“Only that it was necessary. That wasn’t a lie. I would have maybe just used a shotgun to blow the fucker off … eventually. Even before I met him, it was boiling to head. Probably about the last time we broke up, I knew something was going on that I’d have to resolve.”

“It all sounds familiar.”

“I know. I’ve talked to two others … same story. I guess the same for you.”

“Yup. I found a doc south of the border. The price was right. I wasn’t the first he’d helped … or the last.”

“Right. I went there after the divorce. This.” She waves her hand past her waist. “I’m better, at last.”

“How much is gone?”

“All but an inch of each.”

“I’m glad for you.” I hold up the second empty bottle. “Do you want another?”

“Sure. It feels good to have you to talk with, you know, about this.”

I glance back just before I go into the house and see that she is watching me with a similar amount of interest. I return with two more bottles, not wanting to get too drunk.

“I was surprised to get your e-mail. I often wondered what you were doing. I’ve been though a few ‘relationships’, one with a woman missing a leg. That was about all we had in common. Of course, she didn’t really want to be that way. She ‘accepted’ my interest in her stump.”

“Did you ever tell her about…?”

“Nah. It wasn’t long after we split up that I learned about the doc down south. It was too good to pass up … or believe.”

“I felt the same way when I heard. The rumors of a doc down there are legendary.”

“For sure. I sent off my e-mail and got a reply that same day. I had all the info and made arrangements. There was another guy having an arm off that same week. We corresponded for a while, just ’cause.”

“I was afraid. I wanted the other leg too. I thought he’d say no, that I’d always want more no matter how often I came back. I knew this would be it. Eventually, I convinced him. I waved some extra greenbacks under his nose. That helped.”

She giggles as a hand slips under the skirt and scratches.

“Pain is mostly gone,” she says. “Yours?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it hurts like a son of a bitch, never for more than a day. Good drugs help. A massage does wonders.”

I watch her pull the hand from under the skirt. She watches me for a while as we sit in silence.

“I’ve got to know … why? Why did you write?” I lean back and take in the lovely woman sitting so close.

“Isn’t the answer obvious?” She laughs then moves into her wheelchair. She rolls past me and stops by the railing to watch a skier behind a fast boat. Her arms lay on the top and she rests a cheek on the back of one hand. She whispers, “There was never ‘really’ anyone but you.”

I crutch beside her and stroke her back then the back of her neck, squeezing the skin between my thumb and forefinger. She moans softly and presses her neck against my hand.

“That feels so-o good … don’t stop.”

“You used to like my massages.”

“I bet I still do.”

She looks up at me, leaving her arms on the railing. Her smile is inviting. “We used to have such great sex.”

“Yeah. I loved to go down on you.” I snicker. “Great pussy.”

“Nasty, wild sex. God, you were the best I’ve ever had. I wonder what it is like without legs.”

I push her wheelchair around in a small circle and she rolls towards the house. I follow down the hallway to a large bedroom with huge windows facing the lake. The fireball is nearly below the water and the sky is turning a lovely purple. She lifts herself and swings the legless hips forward, landing several feet onto the bed with a slight bounce.

“You should join the circus,” I tease as I sit on the edge of the bed and undress.

She batıkent escort bayan removes her blouse exposing the bare breasts with already firm nipples. “You look like you are expecting to get some sex.” She laughs.

“Maybe.”

She lays on her back slips the skirt over the raised hips. The hips wiggle side to side before slipping the thong past them.

“I’d forgotten how grand your cock was.”

Her hand curls around the rigid shaft and makes several passes along the full length. She pulls the head towards her mouth and takes several pecks of the precum already signaling my excitement.

“I’ll try to control myself.” I laugh as I pull at her hips, dragging her mound towards my mouth. Her aroma is still familiar, and wonderful. The nectar thrills my tongue as I make the first lap. I swat the clit from the hood with the tip of my tongue.

She makes a low deep sound and drives her slit hard against my face. “Oh god-d,” she roars around my shaft in her mouth, the warm breath exciting me more.

Like young lovers having each other the first time, we quickly pass over the hill and the orgasms crash wonderfully over our bodies.

Teasingly, she pulls at my arm until my face is in front of hers. The tips of our noses touch just before we twist our heads and suck lips into our mouths.

“Geez darling, you’re just as much fun as ever,” she says, pressing her slit over my lingering erection. I pull at her until she rolls on top and she presses again until I am inside. She drives her hips, slapping her non-existent thighs against me. I swell and fill the remaining space inside. “So thick,” she says, still rocking her hips over me.

I awake and listen to her soft breathing as she sleeps naked on her side facing away from me. I marvel at the way she looks with almost nothing past her hips. The full moon hovers just above the horizon and shimmers across the glass still lake.

I sit, making an effort to not wake her. I fail and she takes a deep breath before rolling onto her back then wiggling her short stumps as if wiggling feet that have fallen asleep. She stretches each arm towards the ceiling then cups each breast in a single hand. I lean over, and kiss and nibble her lips, letting my tongue visit the inside of her mouth a few times.

“Honey,” she coos, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me beside her. I feel her tongue explore my mouth in ways she would do so long ago. In many ways, it was as if we had never parted.

My hand cups her mound and massages her quickly into another climax.

“Magic hands,” she says, and then pecks at my mouth. “Do it again.”

A few more times she races through orgasms. I’ve never known a woman other than her that could knock them off so effortlessly.

“I love that about you,” I tell her, my hand covered in her honey and still pressing against her mound.

“You bring out the best of my attributes,” she teases and reaches between my thighs, grabbing my shaft firmly. “I guess I bring something out in you.” She pulls at my side until she is on top. Her slit devours me in a single helping, driving me deep inside. “Goodness….” she groans in a pleasing way.

Her opening slops around my shaft bringing me an exploding release that surprises us both.

“Arrg-g,” I groan, several times as the streams subside. Her slit continues slipping along me until long after the cream stops flowing. “Yeah-h,” I sigh, letting my hands roam over the soft parts that remain of her thighs. I let my stump rub over her a few times.

“Great,” she coos.

“How is fucking without legs?” I playfully slap her ass.

“Wonderful-l, as long as it is you. I bet we could go skinny-dipping and not get caught.”

I follow her as she rolls through the house and onto the deck. She stops near the edge and whispers, “There’re a few steps down to a platform. That way I can do this alone.” I watch as she lowers herself to the deck and then down each of the wide steps until she sits on the platform. With a small splash, she dives in and swims out a few feet before stopping and looking back. I swim out to meet her, unable to feel the bottom.

“It’s deep through here,” she says, as she pulls herself closer to me. I tread water and she clings to me, her lips sucking mine. “If I were back on the platform, you could fuck me.” Her words are soft, as if she is telling me a big secret. My erection instantly returns in full force. I nod and pull her towards the platform.

I watch as she pushes herself onto the platform. She giggles and rolls onto her back, the water still draining from her.

I lie on top and slip inside, her slit wraps tight around me. My hips move, and we thrust against each other. We grin into each other’s faces.

“You are making it difficult to want to leave.”

“Why would you want to?”

“I was a fool to ever leave before. I won’t this time.”

“Promise.”

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