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