Tyler watched, fascinated, his eyes glued to the perfection that walked in front of him. It had been a very long time since he last saw a full leg cast like the one she modeled on her right leg. Slightly bent at the knee so that she could not stand on her broken leg looked like it was made by a cast lover the way if followed her leg so perfectly.
He had been making his way casually along the street when the long, blonde haired girl had strode purposefully past him on her crutches.
She wore a flared, wide pleated floral mini-skirt that was so short that every third step she took on her crutches the hem bounced with her movement, the barest glimpse of her pink panties was visible at the top of her long, pink cast.
Tyler had adjusted his step to match hers and now followed her along the street, admiring her broken leg and the tight curve of her butt as she strode along, his heart skipping a happy little beat staring at the way she looked so graceful on her crutches.
It’s wasn’t the first time she was on crutches, that was obvious.
Tyler hefted his heavy pack as she stopped at the traffic lights in front of him and rested her broken leg on top of her good foot.
He was on his way to the train station and was delighted to
get such a great view to fill his mind as a prelude to what was likely to be a very boring trip.
He stopped a couple of paces behind and to the right of the girl, giving him a glimpse of the profile of her breasts. She wore a white t-shirt that clung beautifully to her firmed breasts. He glanced up towards her face and blushed as he realised that she was looking back over her shoulder straight at him while standing tall on her crutches. Busted!
The girl smiled at Tyler and he blushed all the more. When the lights changed, she strode off again and Tyler allowed her a couple of paces head start before again settling in behind her to enjoy the show she gave while on crutches.
The further he walked, the more he started to wonder where she was headed. He kept waiting for her to turn off and go her own way, but she continued to head in the direction of the train station, his own destination.
Sure enough, at the final set of lights, she crossed ahead of him
into the station building. As she descended the stairs slowly and carefully, her skirt bounced even more delightfully than it had when she'd walked on the flat pavement.
He caught a longer, more tantalising glimpse beneath her skirt, seeking a little more of the curve of her delightful butt as she crutched down the steps.
Once within the station, she turned to head for the toilets and Tyler realised that he'd finally reached the point where he'd have to go his own way. He sought out the right platform for his train and then made his way aboard to get settled in before his journey.
He glanced at his watch with five minutes to go until departure and then buried his head back in the book. He sensed movement and glanced up.
He was astonished to see the girl that he'd walked behind to get to the train station enter the carriage. She paused at the door, surveying the seating arrangements. Her eyes met Tyler's and lingered. The ends of her mouths turned up delightfully in a smile and she crutched down towards where he was sitting.
Tyler sat transfixed as she approached. When she reached the part of the train where he was seated, she turned to the club seat arrangement on the other side of the train (currently empty) and sat down over by the window, resting her pink cast on the empty seat.
She sat with her back to the rest of the train, leaning into the corner formed by the window. Tyler tore his gaze away and attempted to resume reading his book.
The train departed the station on its long interstate trip and Tyler continued to pour his way through his book. He found concentrating very difficult though, because every time that the girl shifted the position of her broke leg, his eyes were torn from the pages to see her perfect leg cast.
He had a feeling that he was regularly being busted in his looking. He simply avoided looking up at the girl's face to get confirmation.
An hour into the journey, Tyler had managed to settle down somewhat, managing to peer across at the broken beauty in the next seat only every third or so time that she moved.
At least up until the point that he noticed that she had adjusted herself slightly and was now angled directly towards Tyler, her skirt resting across the top of her cast. He was tantalised by the little toes at the end of the cast.
The girl's hand was sliding up and down her pink cast, as she adjusted the position of her broken leg again and Tyler's eyes were glued to the show. This angel was so close to him that it sent his cock rock hard.
The girl was looking straight at him. Once again he found his face warm as a blush painted him red. The girl smiled at him. Tyler was stunned. She had a beautiful smile, her lips, untouched by lipstick parted to reveal white, even teeth and her blue eyes sparkled, seeming to pierce through him as she watched him.
As Tyler held the girl's gaze, she glanced down at her lap. Tyler's eyes automatically followed the direction of her glance. As he looked, she bent over. Her hands were now rubbing the toes at the end of her cast.
Part 2 to come
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
A Special Moment conclusion
She was right. I was so attracted to her cast but her good leg was also very nice to look at. She was playing with her pump like woman often do.
To see her dangling her shoe off the tips of her toes right beside her rigid cast, my eyes will immediately go from the toe cleavage to the arch of her foot, and the space between her sole and her shoe and back to her broken leg. What a view.The alcohol warmed more than her personality.
"I hope you do not mind," she said, as she unbuttoned her jacket exposing her lacy, ivory bra.
"Please, this is your house, make yourself comfortable."
We talked like that for another hour with her inner feelings opened as much as her jacket. It was late, past one when I excused myself for bed.
It was a long day and although I was tired, I knew between her and the couple glasses of wine, I could not sleep. I was wired.
I lay there staring at the ceiling from the light of the full moon listening to the sounds of the house settling for the night when I heard a knock. I propped myself up, covered myself with the sheet, and switched on the light.
"Come in."
"I hoped you were still awake," she said opening the door and entering the room on her crutches with her breast compressed between the crutches.
She wore a short, sheer white nightgown that became transparent in the light. Clearly, I could see her nipples and her full cast. She looked deliciously hot and my penis awakened with the sight of her.
"I'm too wound up to sleep." She said looking so injured and desirable.
I moved the sheet back and she took my cue and got in bed beside me. Dropping her crutches on the floor beside my bed.
"I feel so—"
"Don't. May I hold you?"
"Yes," she said in an exhale and I felt her relax to my touch. She felt good in my arms like she belonged and I took the liberty to gently rub her shoulders, neck, and back down to just above her buttocks.
I so wanted to take away the pain that she felt.
With her head on my chest, she snuggled beneath my arm; she fit perfectly. Her broken leg was touching my leg and when she rested her hand on my stomach with her forearm in contact with my penis.
Well…you know…
We talked for what seemed like hours but it was only a few minutes before we kissed.
I do not remember if she kissed me or if I kissed her; I like to believe that we kissed simultaneously. She was a wonderful kisser. She had these full lips and as soon as our tongues touched, her hand fondled my penis through my briefs.
At first, her touch was ever so gentle, teasing and erotic but soon she grabbed the entire length of me and squeezed gently before reaching her hand down to cup my testicles. From there she moved her hand up my cock, teasing my head before repeating the process. She made me harder than I have ever been. My cock pulsated at the thought of making love to her.
She stopped suddenly, sat up, and removed her nightgown. Seeing her naked form in the moonlight, her silhouette was amazingly beautiful.
I pulled her forward and took her magnificent breasts in my mouth, first one then the other. I reached my hand over her cast feeling the surface of that protecting fabric.
"Make love to me William," she said in a surreal whisper.
"I need to feel you inside me right now."
I rolled her over as I mounted her; she was so wet, so willing, and so ready. I kissed her while feeling her breast and took each one of her nipples between my fingers before sucking them, again. She inserted me inside guiding me with her fingers.
So wet, so warm, and so tight, she felt incredible. We made love very slowly with careful movements, deep thrusts that made her tense her body, arch her back, and scream.
She made me sweat and my muscles ache until I could no longer hold back and exploded deep inside of her. We fell asleep, finally, around 3:30 and slept like that, holding one another, until the alarm went off at 9.
The next morning, when I appeared, finally, in the kitchen, the coffee was ready and she stood at the stove flipping pancakes using only one crutch for support.
She wore this sheer, yellow robe that hid nothing. She had a wonderful ass and her breasts gently swayed with her every movement she took on her crutches or when she just hop around the kitchen, careful not to bang her broken leg.
She had a fabulous body that a broken leg could only accentuate the shapes.
I turned her around to kiss her and her hair and makeup was already done; she was beautiful, and I had not even shaved or showered, yet.
We discussed over coffee what had happened between us realizing that it was best friends being there for each other. She thanked me for my comfort. Both we both knew there was more.
I left later that day with mixed emotions and a heavy heart. In the months that followed I e-mailed her regularly and read her blog to find more hidden gems.
That one physical encounter still haunts my dreams and my desires.
The end
To see her dangling her shoe off the tips of her toes right beside her rigid cast, my eyes will immediately go from the toe cleavage to the arch of her foot, and the space between her sole and her shoe and back to her broken leg. What a view.The alcohol warmed more than her personality.
"I hope you do not mind," she said, as she unbuttoned her jacket exposing her lacy, ivory bra.
"Please, this is your house, make yourself comfortable."
We talked like that for another hour with her inner feelings opened as much as her jacket. It was late, past one when I excused myself for bed.
It was a long day and although I was tired, I knew between her and the couple glasses of wine, I could not sleep. I was wired.
I lay there staring at the ceiling from the light of the full moon listening to the sounds of the house settling for the night when I heard a knock. I propped myself up, covered myself with the sheet, and switched on the light.
"Come in."
"I hoped you were still awake," she said opening the door and entering the room on her crutches with her breast compressed between the crutches.
She wore a short, sheer white nightgown that became transparent in the light. Clearly, I could see her nipples and her full cast. She looked deliciously hot and my penis awakened with the sight of her.
"I'm too wound up to sleep." She said looking so injured and desirable.
I moved the sheet back and she took my cue and got in bed beside me. Dropping her crutches on the floor beside my bed.
"I feel so—"
"Don't. May I hold you?"
"Yes," she said in an exhale and I felt her relax to my touch. She felt good in my arms like she belonged and I took the liberty to gently rub her shoulders, neck, and back down to just above her buttocks.
I so wanted to take away the pain that she felt.
With her head on my chest, she snuggled beneath my arm; she fit perfectly. Her broken leg was touching my leg and when she rested her hand on my stomach with her forearm in contact with my penis.
Well…you know…
We talked for what seemed like hours but it was only a few minutes before we kissed.
I do not remember if she kissed me or if I kissed her; I like to believe that we kissed simultaneously. She was a wonderful kisser. She had these full lips and as soon as our tongues touched, her hand fondled my penis through my briefs.
At first, her touch was ever so gentle, teasing and erotic but soon she grabbed the entire length of me and squeezed gently before reaching her hand down to cup my testicles. From there she moved her hand up my cock, teasing my head before repeating the process. She made me harder than I have ever been. My cock pulsated at the thought of making love to her.
She stopped suddenly, sat up, and removed her nightgown. Seeing her naked form in the moonlight, her silhouette was amazingly beautiful.
I pulled her forward and took her magnificent breasts in my mouth, first one then the other. I reached my hand over her cast feeling the surface of that protecting fabric.
"Make love to me William," she said in a surreal whisper.
"I need to feel you inside me right now."
I rolled her over as I mounted her; she was so wet, so willing, and so ready. I kissed her while feeling her breast and took each one of her nipples between my fingers before sucking them, again. She inserted me inside guiding me with her fingers.
So wet, so warm, and so tight, she felt incredible. We made love very slowly with careful movements, deep thrusts that made her tense her body, arch her back, and scream.
She made me sweat and my muscles ache until I could no longer hold back and exploded deep inside of her. We fell asleep, finally, around 3:30 and slept like that, holding one another, until the alarm went off at 9.
The next morning, when I appeared, finally, in the kitchen, the coffee was ready and she stood at the stove flipping pancakes using only one crutch for support.
She wore this sheer, yellow robe that hid nothing. She had a wonderful ass and her breasts gently swayed with her every movement she took on her crutches or when she just hop around the kitchen, careful not to bang her broken leg.
She had a fabulous body that a broken leg could only accentuate the shapes.
I turned her around to kiss her and her hair and makeup was already done; she was beautiful, and I had not even shaved or showered, yet.
We discussed over coffee what had happened between us realizing that it was best friends being there for each other. She thanked me for my comfort. Both we both knew there was more.
I left later that day with mixed emotions and a heavy heart. In the months that followed I e-mailed her regularly and read her blog to find more hidden gems.
That one physical encounter still haunts my dreams and my desires.
The end
Saturday, January 12, 2008
A Special Moment p1
A Special Moment
Part 1
She was the type of woman you wouldn’t pass without giving her a second glance. There was something special, hard to describe. She was always smiling, shy and yet very confident.
I watched her from across the room on her crutches that I had seen often in pictures that she shared with me. We had never met in real life but we had share so much online.
A very special friendship without any boundaries; physical or intellectual.
Today was her husband funeral. I had never seen him or chat with him. She didn’t talk much about her husband.
She had confided that they were having some problems like most couple encounters in their married life at some point. The fact that she had always worked hard at her marriage and never cheated, made me respect her even more.
She was both respectable and honest. She had become the type of friends that you cherish in your life.
It was difficult to tell her body from the black suit she wore; it made her appear official. The pant leg had a slit to allow her to slide in her long leg cast. The jacket was oversized and buttoned to the top making it difficult to see the outline of her firm breast. I felt weird checking out her physical aspect, especially at his funeral, but it was the first time that I met her and the first time that I had ever met somebody from the internet.
This was special for me, she was special to me
The crowd dwindled leaving a few stragglers talking off to the side. I remember her telling me about her sisters and they were all there. Definitely, she was the best looking of the four, cast or no cast.
That’s how we met. On the internet. She’s the author of a blog about day to day woman having to deal with a leg cast and crutches. We share that interest, passion that some call a fetish.
She agrees that what we have is so much more than sharing a fetish.
So, she looked fantastic standing on her crutches. Her cast was bent at the knee and just floated. Then, again, this was not a glamorous occasion, the funeral of her husband but she had found a classy way to still look amazing. The way she let her leg cast lead the way when walking on her crutches.
She was a pro on them, effortless and yet so dependant.
I made my way from the back and offer her my condolences. It’s
weird to meet her like that. She sent me photos of herself by email but she looked better. So real, mature and yet almost like a dream.
I got a better look of her as I neared. She was so pretty when she smiled. Her smile lit up her face and she had the bedroom eyes.
It made me wonder about all the woman’s that I chatted with over the years that eventually disappear from my life. She was different.
She looked like she had been crying but she was standing tall on her crutches. She was wearing a 1 inch black pump on her good foot. Making her look even better.
Her sisters hovered over her picking lint off her jacket, touching her arm, hugging her, kissing her cheek, pushing an errant hair from her face. I wanted to get her alone but it was now or never.
They all turned to watch my approach. Their stare made me feel naked or that I shouldn’t be there. I smiled a little trying to stay sombrely respectful given the seriousness of the day.
"Hi, I'm..John, an old friend of your husband." I said loosing my guts at the last minute to tell her who I really was.
She looked at me or I should say she looked through me to my heart. She knew who I was. To this day I will never understand how she knew it was me by just looking at me while standing on her crutches and her lovely broken leg in that long cast.
"Yes, I know who you are."
"I'm so very sorry—"
She took both crutches in one hand and she pulled me closer and
I followed her move. She hugged me. I had never experienced this kind of hug before.
Somehow, maybe because she held me so tight, it was comforting, I could feel her breast pressed against my chest and she was using me for support. This time the support was physical.
I had emailed her various messages for support but this was different
I know I can say that now because she felt the same way but it was so erotic at the same time.
Very hard to explain. You might understand.
Still, the hug transgressed any verbal communication between us and, immediately, I felt a close bond with her.
I had one arm around her waist and the other around her back. I could feel her lovely body. She felt firm yet soft, the way a woman should feel. Then, when I looked down I saw her foot in the cast. Her lovely toes at the end of the cast.
Her sisters left us to talk and she asked me to ride with her in the limo. The rest of the morning, I never left her side, and although we did not speak again until after the services, we did not have to speak.
We knew one another's thoughts guiding us and negating the
need for verbal communication.
It was 11pm when the last of her sisters left for the night with a promise to return early the next morning. She asked them to give her some space and that she needed to be alone. Reluctantly, they agreed to wait until she called them to return.
It was late but I did not want to leave her. I felt so close to her. She made me feel good, and I think she felt the same way.
Normally, it takes me time to warm up to someone, but I was
comfortable with her immediately. Maybe, because of the circumstances of our meeting, there were no walls to breakdown and no pretences to overcome; I felt like I knew her all my life.
Somehow, as if she read my mind, standing on her crutches, resting her cast on top of her pump, she asked me to stay. How could I resist. I knew I was in trouble but I wanted to be there for her or for me…this is not clear in my mind.
She said that I could sleep in the guest room. She said that she hated being alone and was glad that I was there with her even if only in the next room.
We switched from coffee to wine and the alcohol did wonders for her. It animated her and she relaxed from her burden of the widow for the first time. She smiled more and even laughed.
She was pretty but not just pretty, there was something mesmerizing about her, the way her emotions revealed her thoughts on her face without her having to utter them. It was just like her stories. Her stories often revealed her deepest emotions.
You could tell she loved life and was going to be OK. She was special, suddenly becoming alive with energy that revealed an inner passion, which gave her a beautiful aura.
She intoxicated me with her being and I felt like I was falling
for her. Something I knew was impossible and yet..
We sat across from one another, she in a Queen Anne chair and me on the sofa. Perfect location to see her full leg cast covering her entire broken leg.
So often doctor don’t realize the multiple utility of a plaster or fiber cast on a woman’s leg. She had a very shapely leg cast and after I complimented her again on her broken leg, she told me that when she broke her arm years ago and was in a full arm cast for 2 months, she gave up gymnastics for ice skating and still skated regularly keeping her legs in good shape.
Part 2 to come
Part 1
She was the type of woman you wouldn’t pass without giving her a second glance. There was something special, hard to describe. She was always smiling, shy and yet very confident.
I watched her from across the room on her crutches that I had seen often in pictures that she shared with me. We had never met in real life but we had share so much online.
A very special friendship without any boundaries; physical or intellectual.
Today was her husband funeral. I had never seen him or chat with him. She didn’t talk much about her husband.
She had confided that they were having some problems like most couple encounters in their married life at some point. The fact that she had always worked hard at her marriage and never cheated, made me respect her even more.
She was both respectable and honest. She had become the type of friends that you cherish in your life.
It was difficult to tell her body from the black suit she wore; it made her appear official. The pant leg had a slit to allow her to slide in her long leg cast. The jacket was oversized and buttoned to the top making it difficult to see the outline of her firm breast. I felt weird checking out her physical aspect, especially at his funeral, but it was the first time that I met her and the first time that I had ever met somebody from the internet.
This was special for me, she was special to me
The crowd dwindled leaving a few stragglers talking off to the side. I remember her telling me about her sisters and they were all there. Definitely, she was the best looking of the four, cast or no cast.
That’s how we met. On the internet. She’s the author of a blog about day to day woman having to deal with a leg cast and crutches. We share that interest, passion that some call a fetish.
She agrees that what we have is so much more than sharing a fetish.
So, she looked fantastic standing on her crutches. Her cast was bent at the knee and just floated. Then, again, this was not a glamorous occasion, the funeral of her husband but she had found a classy way to still look amazing. The way she let her leg cast lead the way when walking on her crutches.
She was a pro on them, effortless and yet so dependant.
I made my way from the back and offer her my condolences. It’s
weird to meet her like that. She sent me photos of herself by email but she looked better. So real, mature and yet almost like a dream.
I got a better look of her as I neared. She was so pretty when she smiled. Her smile lit up her face and she had the bedroom eyes.
It made me wonder about all the woman’s that I chatted with over the years that eventually disappear from my life. She was different.
She looked like she had been crying but she was standing tall on her crutches. She was wearing a 1 inch black pump on her good foot. Making her look even better.
Her sisters hovered over her picking lint off her jacket, touching her arm, hugging her, kissing her cheek, pushing an errant hair from her face. I wanted to get her alone but it was now or never.
They all turned to watch my approach. Their stare made me feel naked or that I shouldn’t be there. I smiled a little trying to stay sombrely respectful given the seriousness of the day.
"Hi, I'm..John, an old friend of your husband." I said loosing my guts at the last minute to tell her who I really was.
She looked at me or I should say she looked through me to my heart. She knew who I was. To this day I will never understand how she knew it was me by just looking at me while standing on her crutches and her lovely broken leg in that long cast.
"Yes, I know who you are."
"I'm so very sorry—"
She took both crutches in one hand and she pulled me closer and
I followed her move. She hugged me. I had never experienced this kind of hug before.
Somehow, maybe because she held me so tight, it was comforting, I could feel her breast pressed against my chest and she was using me for support. This time the support was physical.
I had emailed her various messages for support but this was different
I know I can say that now because she felt the same way but it was so erotic at the same time.
Very hard to explain. You might understand.
Still, the hug transgressed any verbal communication between us and, immediately, I felt a close bond with her.
I had one arm around her waist and the other around her back. I could feel her lovely body. She felt firm yet soft, the way a woman should feel. Then, when I looked down I saw her foot in the cast. Her lovely toes at the end of the cast.
Her sisters left us to talk and she asked me to ride with her in the limo. The rest of the morning, I never left her side, and although we did not speak again until after the services, we did not have to speak.
We knew one another's thoughts guiding us and negating the
need for verbal communication.
It was 11pm when the last of her sisters left for the night with a promise to return early the next morning. She asked them to give her some space and that she needed to be alone. Reluctantly, they agreed to wait until she called them to return.
It was late but I did not want to leave her. I felt so close to her. She made me feel good, and I think she felt the same way.
Normally, it takes me time to warm up to someone, but I was
comfortable with her immediately. Maybe, because of the circumstances of our meeting, there were no walls to breakdown and no pretences to overcome; I felt like I knew her all my life.
Somehow, as if she read my mind, standing on her crutches, resting her cast on top of her pump, she asked me to stay. How could I resist. I knew I was in trouble but I wanted to be there for her or for me…this is not clear in my mind.
She said that I could sleep in the guest room. She said that she hated being alone and was glad that I was there with her even if only in the next room.
We switched from coffee to wine and the alcohol did wonders for her. It animated her and she relaxed from her burden of the widow for the first time. She smiled more and even laughed.
She was pretty but not just pretty, there was something mesmerizing about her, the way her emotions revealed her thoughts on her face without her having to utter them. It was just like her stories. Her stories often revealed her deepest emotions.
You could tell she loved life and was going to be OK. She was special, suddenly becoming alive with energy that revealed an inner passion, which gave her a beautiful aura.
She intoxicated me with her being and I felt like I was falling
for her. Something I knew was impossible and yet..
We sat across from one another, she in a Queen Anne chair and me on the sofa. Perfect location to see her full leg cast covering her entire broken leg.
So often doctor don’t realize the multiple utility of a plaster or fiber cast on a woman’s leg. She had a very shapely leg cast and after I complimented her again on her broken leg, she told me that when she broke her arm years ago and was in a full arm cast for 2 months, she gave up gymnastics for ice skating and still skated regularly keeping her legs in good shape.
Part 2 to come
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