Getting to Amp

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Dr. Gerard, the specialist that Nancy’s physician had referred, diagnosed a very badly-worn, arthritic and weakened knee that was in an advanced stage of inflammation and deterioration. In fact, Gerard was surprised that Nancy was even walking on the knee, let alone playing sports on it like the tennis game she had been playing when she had injured herself.

“A replacement seems like your best option,” Dr. Gerard had said at that time.

Nancy grasped Brett’s hand tightly as she tried to exude confidence.

Nancy was no stranger to injuries. At 35 years of age, she had always been an active woman. She played tennis and other racquet sports, skied, jogged, cycled and danced. Scrapes and bruises, then, were an everyday part of life at home, but surgery was something else.

It certainly seemed, though, that surgery was the only real option, so she and Brett decided to move forward with it. A new knee had been implanted in early August.

Now it was two weeks after the surgery and Nancy had become frustrated with the constant, throbbing pain that wasn’t going away and the loss of strength in her knee. She had expected some pain and discomfort but as the days passed it had become obvious that there was something wrong. So here the two were, back in Dr. Gerard’s office listening to the results of an arthroscopy that had been done earlier in the day.

“I hate to start like this,” the Doctor began, “but I really do have some good news and some bad news to share with you,” The bad news is that there is a runaway infection in your knee. It has made the recent implant a failure. It is also attacking the lower part of your femur which had anchored the top bond of the prosthetic knee.”

Nancy and Brett listened patiently but nervously to the somber tone of Gerard’s voice.

He folded is hands on his desk and spoke in a gentle way as a man in his position should when he is delivering shocking news. “The bottom line here is that you are in the 5-10% of patients who have an unsuccessful result from this procedure. Now the good news is we have two procedures to stop further deterioration but both have serious consequences for your future. That is why I will be leaving you today with a very big decision to make.”

Brett looked to Nancy. She held her head high and brave, but he knew better. “What kind of decision?” she asked.

“The first option is to re-enter your knee, remove the prosthetic and implant a new one. That would, however, have to be done at a trans-section point above where the infection has spread. I would estimate that that new trans-section would be at least 3 inches above our first cut and would result in your right leg being that much shorter than your left leg. In all likelihood, the surgery would likely leave you with reduced range, flexibility and strength than what you had hoped for when you chose the replacement therapy.”

Shocked at what she was hearing, Nancy was hard pressed to squeak out the words, “If that’s part of the ‘good news,’ I hope your other option is a lot better.”

“Well Nancy, and Brett – because you’re a part of this, too – it’s a matter of priorities and values, I suppose. I know that neither choice is an easy one to make. The second option involves transecting, or cutting, your femur above the infected area and creating a healthy, robust residual limb that would allow you to adapt easily to a prosthetic leg.”

“Wha-?” Nancy stammered. “You’re saying that the only two ways to fix my knee are to leave me with a short leg or none at all? Is that what I’m hearing you say?”

“I’m afraid so,” replied the Doctor. “Without one of those two options, the infection will become a crisis sooner or later. Then I couldn’t promise that I would be able to save any of your leg or, for that matter, maybe even your life. I am so sorry to tell you this. Now, the hardest of all this that I must tell you is that you need to make your decision by Monday morning. Without knowing how fast the infection is spreading, for sure, I can’t advise any longer than that. Truth be told, it’s gone too far already. We have to act.

“I’ll be scheduling a Monday afternoon surgery. Here are some booklets on both procedures. I will also suggest that you do some research on the Internet. On your way out, pick up a prescription at the front desk for a pain-killer that will get you through the weekend, and please ring my office no later than 8 AM on Monday, okay?”

Devastated by what the two had just heard, they sat quietly for several minutes after the Doctor left. Then they hugged. Nancy cried a little and began asking questions: how will the kids adjust? What would you think if I had one leg? Could you still love me? How will we stay active and fit?

Brett was relieved that Nancy’s questions were more about “what ifs” than “why me?” The ‘why me’ would come later. What was important now was to make the best choice for Nancy.

Taking his wife’s hand, he kissed and licked her ring finger and spoke to erzincan escort her soul, “I love you more than anything in my life save perhaps our kids,” he winked, “and I know I’ll love you no matter what you decide.”

Again, Nancy’s first thoughts were not of her but of her family. “It’s lucky that the kids are going on a campout first thing in the morning and that we can talk this through in quiet. Let’s go shopping and get enough stuff that we don’t have to go out all weekend if we don’t want to. I need to ask lots of questions about this but tonight, let’s take the kids out to dinner then down to the beach for a swim and NOT tell them about this. Then, I think these drugs will make me pain-free enough to want to ravish you and be ravished by you.”

Friday night went well and it was a tired family that returned home about 10 PM. The kids finished some packing and were in bed by 11. Nancy and Brett were sitting on the patio sipping Gran Marnier and soda over ice. As Nancy snuggled under Brett’s arm, she told him that the thing she had been thinking about the most since they left the Doctor’s office was how this would affect their physical lives together, especially their sex life.

“Would you still like to look at me if I had a black boot with a thick sole stuck on the end of my right leg? I guess then I wouldn’t be able to wear my heels anymore if I chose that option. And what about if they cut my leg right off? How would you like looking at that? Yeow, not the greatest of choices huh?”

“Well, if blessings can be counted, Honey, I’m happy that this isn’t a life threatening decision. The thought of you with me minus some bit or piece is a lot more appealing than if you were not here at all. I love you, Nancy, and I’m sure I still will, no matter what you choose to do. It is your decision and I think we have a busy weekend ahead learning as much as we can about prosthetic shoes and amputee women.”

With that, Brett pulled Nancy to her feet. He hugged her hard and they swayed to the soft tunes coming from the living room. His hands began roaming down her back and around her sides. He leaned in and whispered and licked in her ear. She arched her back and began purring and reached up with her mouth for a kiss.

“Oh, I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered in soft, wet breaths. “I want you licking me and kissing me and filling me with your man-milk. I want you to come with me to bed and I want to undress you while you lick me and I want you in my mouth.”

Brett pulled her into his embrace, her breasts pressed hard against his chest.

“Come on,” She said seductively.

In the bedroom, the two forgot all about the day’s devastating news. Instead, they worshipped each other as two people in love should do.

They kissed, whispered, licked, touched and massaged. Eventually, Nancy stopped teasing her clit with Brett’s cock, which she was using like a wand, and she buried it into her cunt. Brett gasped and began humping his wife with passion. They tried to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake the children. She wrapped both of her long legs around his back. Nancy was savoring the sensation of those two legs wrapped around Brett’s back thinking that she might not have that sensation for long. They came together and collapsed, laughing, into each other’s arms.

When Brett awoke on Saturday morning, it was to an empty bed. Nancy’s side wasn’t even warm. Slowly his consciousness noticed the sound of a keyboard pecking away in the small studio off their bedroom. Grabbing his robe, Brett ambled sleepily over to Nancy’s back and wrapped his bear arms around her beautiful bosom and tickled her nipples. “What’s up Honey bun?”

“Mmmmm, baby, I love it when you do that! And I loved last night so much, Sweetie. But hold on, I want to show you something. I couldn’t sleep so I got up a few hours ago. I thought I would see what a Google search of “female amputee” and “short legged women” would bring up. Look at this stuff.” She began showing Brett dozens of web sites that dealt with the female amputee issue.

“Look at this one with these beautiful photos and drawings of one legged girls. And this one has some really neat stories about being an amputee. I’ve also tried to find some stuff about having one leg shorter than the other. Other than a few sad images of girls perched on one normal shoe and one with a huge ugly platform there’s nowhere near the amount of information there is about one legged ladies. And what I have seen looks a lot stranger than the one-legged images I’ve seen.”

“I’m going to make some coffee. Why don’t you sit and look,” she said.

Nancy returned after about ten minutes with coffee, fruit and pastries. She put the tray on the desk, pulled up a chair beside Brett, put a strawberry to his lips and purred into his ear, “What have you got there Baby?”

“I’m amazed,” said Brett. “I’ve just been looking at the pictures of the one-legged girls and trying to imagine you erzurum escort in each picture. There are lots of pictures of what you would look like if you chose the amputation option. I haven’t looked at the other option yet but I too, see that image as more difficult to get used to than you with only one leg showing under your skirt. Look at this picture of the girl in tight jeans with a round loaf of leftover leg filling the specially sewn pocket made from her useless pant leg. She looks pretty sexy with that one nice black boot on doesn’t she? My first reaction is to think that I could get used to that look quite easily. I guess that sounds a little odd huh?”

“Well, no, not really. I can relate to what you are saying. The first several shots of one legged girls sort of shocked me but then I started to notice that these sites are more in homage to female amputees than only displays of kinky pornography. I guess I started to look more closely at the risqué pictures of those girls in thongs and bras and boots then. They seem to have lots of attention from adoring fans and lovers.

“I’m thinking about our awesome sex life Honey. It would be awful if you thought that the way I looked after they cut off one of my legs wasn’t desirable. I’m trying to picture how losing my leg would impact the wonderful ways we enjoy each other’s bodies. If I had my leg cut off I wonder what it would feel like if I lay on my left side and lifted whatever was left of my right leg straight up in the air and then you straddled me or we twisted into that position while you probed my pussy with your “big boy.” That might be kind of neat. And I wonder what it would feel like to not be able to clasp two legs around your back as you ride me hard?

In the case of going through life with a short and weak right leg I just see that it would still be there almost in its entirety but it couldn’t do anything like hug your back or hold me up while you loved me from behind. The shortened leg is still a leg, hanging there, useless, not touching the ground and always getting in the way, let alone always being so obvious wherever I went. So I guess I’m thinking that the prospect of being perched on one long leg with a short stump hanging beside it might not be such a bad thing.”

The time had passed to almost 9 AM and the two remembered that the kids had to be over at the Monroe’s by 10AM for the camping weekend. There were no signs of life from the twins’ rooms so Brett headed off to wake the kids and get breakfast ready.

Nancy tumbled into the kitchen as breakfast was ending and mumbled “good morning.” She made up some story about being super sleepy but that she was now ready to drive them. Grabbing a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, she loaded the kids in the car and headed out. Brett left the dishes and headed back to the computer with more interesting thoughts on his mind.

On the keyboard was a note that said, “read the story called ‘My Wife the Amputee’.” It told of a young co-ed who lost a leg in her second year in University and quickly learned of the attractiveness that many people found in her loss. She told how she had more male attention after her amputation than before and she says she would not have met her husband if she hadn’t been an amputee. She discovered that many people saw her one beautiful leg and a soft stump of a thigh as twice the asset of two beautiful legs. It also introduced the term “devotee” to Brett and it got him to wondering about these sensations he was experiencing while thinking of Nancy looking like the gorgeous one legged girls in the photo albums.

“Hey, I’m home,” came the call from the back door. “are you still at the computer?”

“Yea, you should come and see some more of this stuff.”

“I’ll just make some more coffee and be up in a few minutes. Hold on.”

Brett had no idea how long it was before he heard shuffling in the hall. He turned and rose to say hi when Nancy came around the corner on crutches and on one leg! Her right leg appeared to be gone from the knee down. She seemed only to have a right thigh and it fleshed out her right pant which she had folded up behind her into her waistband. She was awkward on her crutches as she hitched over to Brett.

“The whole time I was driving the kids I was thinking about how I might look if I chose the amputation option. I remembered my old crutches and found an old belt when I got home. What does it look Brett?” she asked as her bent leg, her fake amputated leg, stuck forward into Brett’s crotch.

“Yikes! I have been looking at sites since you left and I was reading how an amputated leg can be very arousing and attractive for some people and I guess as I look at you like this, with your fake stump up in my crotch, I can see why. I think you look damned desirable my dear. Come here my little one-legger and let me hold you.”

Nancy hopped and fell forward into Brett’s arms. He was still in his bathrobe. She opened it and slipped her fake stump up between esat escort his legs. She reached up with her lips and they kissed while she swayed on one foot. Brett’s left hand played down around her right buttock and up into her jean clad crotch. He could sense moist, radiating, warmth there and he knew Nancy could feel his cock stiffening as she teased it with her fake stump. They held each other and shuddered.

“Come with me my dear. I want you on our bed where I can undress you and fondle this stump thing of yours. I want to taste your nipples and love juices. Whatever this thing is about the attractiveness of a woman’s leg stump, I think I’ve got it!”

“Oh Gawd Brett, keep stroking that thigh. No! No, let me crutch over to the bed so you can do it there.”

Awkwardly, Nancy crutch hopped from the studio back to the bedroom where she collapsed backward onto their bed. “I guess either of the choices before me mean I will be spending a lot of the rest of my life on these things so I hope that they get easier to use with practice.”

“There seem to be all sorts of different crutches available too,” Brett said as he climbed on the bed from the bottom and began pulling himself up to where Nancy had her short, folded stump-leg spread wide right and her long left leg spread wide left.

Gnawing at her shirt, Brett stroked and petted Nancy’s healthy chest. It was clad only in a tee shirt and he was able to nibble her nipples through the light cotton. With one hand he began to unzip her pants and with his mouth he began to suckle and gently chew on a breast. His other hand gently massaged her other breast. After a few minutes of this wonderful breast stimulation, Brett slipped her pants down to her knee but he bogged down getting the right pant off of her folded right leg. He had to break off for a moment to wrench the pant off. Then he pushed her folded and belted right leg back out to the side and dove into her dripping wet womanhood with his tongue and gentle teeth.

Nancy had always loved the way Brett played with and stimulated her breasts. Usually his foreplay prepared her well for the orgasm that would come when his lips gently plied her luscious red labia lips or his cock drove deep inside her with frantic thrusts. This morning was no exception. She soon felt her body preparing to explode while Brett kissed and tasted her womanhood and massaged and rubbed the end of her leg stump. Sensing her arousal, Brett began circling his tongue around Nancy’s erect clitoris and pushed harder on her stump. Just at the right moment, he lifted himself forward and thrust his hard cock deep into her juicy love box. She exploded instantly and the waves of her cunt contractions on his red hot cock massaged him to his climax a few seconds later.

As they exploded together, Nancy’s left leg wrapped around Brett’s back and squeezed while her stump-like right side batted uncontrollably at his side. It pawed and quivered and slowly fell to rest as the two began the melt into each other’s bodies and spirits. A long contented sigh and a sense of radiating energy overwhelmed them both. It was almost a quarter of an hour before they stirred or spoke again.

“Wow,” said Nancy, “it’s always good Honey but that was great. Do you think we should get rid of the kids more often?”

“That might help,” he answered, “but I’m thinking that we were both a little more aroused than usual by this one legged thing. When I felt your folded leg pawing and banging at my side, I was trying to imagine how that would feel if it really was a stump of your leg. And feeling the end of it made me wonder about feeling and massaging a real stump would be like. I think you made me hot by dressing up like this.”

“Well I have to say that I felt quite fruity and horny dressed this way. Not having two whole legs to stretch out for you and to wrap you up with made me feel a little more helpless while you licked and kissed and pushed me over the edge. That was neat. I think I am going to try to get around on these crutches and one leg for a while and see if I can get a sense of what life is likely to be like, Really, I don’t think I like the looks of those pretty girls with a short leg. As asymmetrical as one leg is, I think it looks neater than an obviously useless and much shorter leg hanging down on one side. What do you think about a one legged wife?”

“Trying it out sounds like a good idea and while you do that, I’ll go and get a late lunch together. I love you and I know I can love you with one less leg than now but that’s your decision Hon. Let’s talk more over Brunch.”

Before setting out the coffees and the omelettes he had made, Brett had called up to Nancy that Brunch was ready on the patio. He was opening a bottle of champagne when he looked up and saw Nancy come crutching through the glass doors. She had changed into a ¾ length loose burgundy skirt with a ruffled white peasant blouse. She still had her right leg folded up. On her left foot she had donned an anklet boot with a 3″ heel. Her initial awkwardness on her crutches seemed to have eased. She made a fluid passage through the door to the deck. A gentle breeze ruffled her skirt and collapsed the soft material around where there was no longer a lower right leg.

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