Amputee pretender

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Amputee pretender

Post: # 19848Unread post admin
15 Dec 2017, 13:19

The word that describes my life better - to f*ck. Every time I try to figure out the good items from the bath, I always come to the same conclusion. My husband left me almost a year ago. Years of marriage, thank God, had no children. I would have won in divorce, but I have to work again. I love my job, though.

Image

I have a few other times stood on the bridge, usually late at night when I could be alone, staring at the twinkling city lights in the water five hundred feet under and die. Again, I return to my car. "f*ck," I mutter. Tonight I dressed nicely, even clean underwear - black French cut panties were worn, my favorite. Traps are naked probably would have torn me. I laugh often, a reminder of my mother, always wear clean underwear if I hurt enough to get in the ambulance. She never told me to amputate the leg, but I feel that it is necessary now even more than clean linen. God help me, I know where that crept in my head, but of course she never left.

"f*ck," I murmured, unlocking the car door.

My phone location orgasmic dance on the skin. This is Marcy, the closest to a trusted person in my life. You started it, Matt, before I met her, finished her female body. I would have never kissed you so close to the woman, never was, or neck, but for some reason we click on another level. We were already naked and touches, 'quite'. I was curious what she looks like, and share compared.
"Babycakes," she coos over the phone, her favorite term of endearment for me, and one I now accept more easily than at first. Everyone else just calls me Eva. "Up for a drink?" I nod a few times then agree to meet her at Bernie's, a bar for serious drinking, serving no food. We'd been before. I have fifteen minutes and just sit in the car, letting my life's reruns finish flashing past. It is boring.

She is habitually late and I beat her there by twenty minutes, and have finished my first whiskey, starting on a fresh one. Her hand rubs my back as she kisses my cheek. "So glad," she says, sitting on the stool next to me. She flags the bartender and orders 'whatever she's having'. He nods and holds a thumb up.


"Been to the bridge," I mumble, sipping my drink.

"Not again. Why?"

"You know. It'll never happen."

"The leg?"

I nod then sip a little. "I saw a woman that way today." I sip. "You're so lucky."

"Hardly."

"At least you can have the changes you need. You're happy now. Right?"

"You know I am."

"See." I chug the rest of the drink down in a single gulp then slam the glass down hard. "I need to go."

"Do you want some company?"

"Yes. No. I'm so messed up. I always am after I see someone that's been 'lucky'. Yeah, I know they don't feel that way. That's not the point."

"Lucky, how?"

"You Know...." I shake my head and pound the tip of a finger in my legs. I stand to leave, put my hand on her shoulder, and peck a small kiss on the lips. "I need to be alone tonight."

"No, you don't. You make me come."

I go out the door without further comment. Tears running down his cheeks as I made my way to the car.

"What is it saying?" the woman.

"I'm such a bad day. I'm going to be okay."

"You sure? You look like you need a hug or something."

I giggle. "Thank you. I need much more than that."

I'm going to get in my car and drive off. The sobs continued like a heavy rain. I wipe my eyes with tissue after tissue without a lot of help. I'm the third to Elm and two blocks. It's late and the streets empty of people. Wait for the light to change, a woman comes out of a side street with crutches because of a leg.

"Shit!" I scold loudly, hitting the steering wheel once, then again.

I pull to the curb and Park in front of a Department store. I get out and fake to be interested in the clothes, the Displays in the large Windows, keep in sight out of the corner of my eye, still half a block away. She sees me and stops, almost turn away.

"Hello", I call with a slight wave to know where I found the courage to say or do something.
"Yes?" she says. Her voice is soft and uncertain. I have the feeling that she is uncomfortable, because we are only human.

I approach the woman with a loose dress over your knees. I can't say a lot about you in the dim lighting. "Excuse me." I'm closer now and can see she is about my age, not overly attractive, but pretty. "I'm Eva...." I struggle to finish the sentence.

"Hi, I'm Karen. Not a lot of people tonight." I can tell she is as nervous as I about meeting.

"No. It is nice to also have the full moon." I take a long look staring you in the face and quickly scan down to the hem of the dress. It is a bulge near the knee, as if something oppressed her butt against the front of the fabric.

"I don't have anyone expected to find. In General, I don't, if I, Ah, come on here until late in the night."

"Because of your leg?"

"Not something, what I'm talking about."

"I think I understand. I have my secrets."

She moves a little, stops in front of the same window, look at your reflection in the mirror. I notice her skirt sticks out behind the hip, and begin to realize that she is faking that she's missing a leg.

"I'll give you that."

"So you, what to do?" You keep your eyes forward, never look on me.

"Never mind. I understand how it feels."
"I pretend too."

"Pretend what?" She keeps her eyes forward, never quite looking at me.

"Never mind. I understand how it feels to want that."

I walk towards my car and sit with the window rolled down, my hand on the keys in the ignition for a long moment, and then start the engine. I continue to watch the woman looking at her reflection.

"You would look wonderful, if it was gone," I say.

She walks towards me, stopping several feet away. "No one knows, especially my husband."

"It feels so lonely having these feelings. I never know what to do when they grip me. Lately they don't let go."

"Yes."

"I want my leg off so much. I saw you...." I pause, still watching. "You looked so real."

"I'm not."

"I know. Could we talk?"

"What's the point? Even if a hundred of us talked, there wouldn't be a surgeon to help." She curses under her breath.

"No, you're right. Maybe talk is what would keep me from going to the bridge."

"You? God, I've been there twice."

"Me, just tonight. Three times before."

"Sometimes doing that helps...purge the feelings. Not for long."

I get out and lean against the front fender. "I saw a woman today. It set off all my feelings. Again."

"Yeah. When I see someone with one leg, I'm a wreck for a week or more."

"Fuckin' got that right." I shake my head and hold myself with arms crossed tightly over my chest. "Your husband doesn't know."

"No way. I've pointed out a few amputees and he always makes disparaging remarks. I know he'd hate me."

"Does he know you're out here?"

"Nah, business trip for a few days. My chance to pretend." She looks around, spotting a bench nearby. "It's about time I need to unbind my leg though."

She half sits, pulling the dress up. "Let me," I whisper, reaching out to begin unwrapping the elastic bandage. Finished, she stretches the leg out, and rolls the ankle a few times. "Hurts like hell, mine does, when I unbind it." I rub the lower leg.

"I can tell you understand."

"I don't know why we feel this way, guess no one does. At least I can relate enough to appreciate what you are going through. Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." She nods her head a few times, looking at me, studying my features I assume. "I wish Harold did. It'd be nice to have someone to pretend with, fantasize about what it'd be like if it really happened."

"Pillow talk about stumps, work that into a little s*ex."

She takes my hand and holds it, rubbing it between hers. "Uh-huh."

We watch each other, our faces close, and our breath blowing softly over each other. I sense a kindred soul, someone I could be close with and talk about personal things. Lost in those thoughts, I feel her lips on mine for a moment.

"You have nice lips," she says.


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Re: Amputee pretender

Post: # 19850Unread post admin
15 Dec 2017, 13:23

I remember the first kisses with Marcy. I told myself that because she had been born a man, it was okay, that it was a man kissing me. Her body and behavior betrayed that reasoning. After a while, it didn't matter, the kisses were good and satisfied a need I had. Even the touches over our bodies became like the kisses - satisfying a need.

I lean closer and kiss Karen, small pecks, a little tongue, and find she fells a need too. "Hmmm, nice, kisses."

"I'm not a lesbian," she says, sounding more as if she is trying to convince herself than me.

"Maybe we wish we were."

"I don't...don't know." She nibbles her lower lip suggestively.

I give her a similar kiss as before. "For some reason, it feels 'right'." I kiss her gently again.

She still holds my hand, our fingers now intertwined. "Harold's kisses aren't that good."

"Thanks. This is new for me too."

"You haven't been with a woman."

"Not really. I have a friend that is now a woman, was a man, and we have 'made out' a few times." I chuckle.

"Transgendered?"

"Post-op. She looks and feels as good as me."

"I can't. Not tonight...." She kisses me with more passion for a moment, her tongue in my mouth most of the time. She sits back up and drags a hand over my chest. "But I'd like to."

"Maybe we could pretend together."

"Harold won't be back for two more nights." She shrugs.

"Do you know where Sadie's Restaurant is?" She nods. "Lets have dinner tomorrow. I'll have my crutches in the car. We can walk around here afterwards."

"Yes. I want too."

-

The rest of the night, I am on fire. All I think about is having one leg, pretending, and Karen. I pleasure myself often, even finding release a few times. The next morning I fidget at my desk getting little accomplished. It's been this way a few weeks. I remember the woman with one leg I had seen yesterday and consider if I might see her again. I know precisely where she was and at what time, the details chiseled into my mind. Some people are creatures of habit and maybe she is. I look at the clock and have just enough time.

The intersection is large, people allowed to cross in both directions at once. It is hard to see everyone. I'm sure I miss more than I see. Not long after arriving, I see her, alone, walking with her crutches. Her knee-length dress hides how much of the left leg is missing, but she is nice looking and is at least missing a leg.

I stand out of the crowd, watching eagerly. Her movements are graceful and deft, as though a long time since the loss. I wonder what happened and how she feels. For a moment of fantasy, I imagine she begged the doctor to amputate. I would.

"Hi," the voice says.

The fantasy ends and I realize she is in front of me, inches away. "Hope I wasn't staring," I say, not having any other words handy.

"I'm flattered. I noticed you yesterday doing the same. Today I thought I'd find the courage to say hello. I'm Loren."

She's holding her hand out and I take it. "Eva. Nice to meet you."

"I'm on the way to lunch. Join me. I'm sure we have some common interests."

She points at a diner in the middle of the block and we walk there side by side, bouncing off other people walking towards us on the narrow sidewalk. After glancing at the menu and ordering, she spends a long moment looking at my face. I do likewise.

"Not many watch me that way," she says.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be. I somehow expected more people to watch, at least stare. I like the attention, might as well get something out of having one leg." She chuckles.

"Has it been long?"

"To be brutally honest, not long enough." She smiles. "Damn leg," she mutters under her breath.

I know what she said and probably understand what she meant. "Had you not wanted the leg?"

"Goodness, no. For a long time, I'd imagined myself like this." She pauses, wrinkling her forehead in puzzlement. "Does that sound queer? I don't know what brought on this moment of honesty. Sorry if I offended you."

"If we'd had this conversation yesterday, I wouldn't have had to go to the bridge." I groan.

"Oh, the bridge. I've been there, maybe not the same one, but 'to the bridge'." The way she said it seems to mean she had wanted to end it.

"These are fucked up feelings."

"Tell me about it." She takes my hand softly for a moment, nodding.

The sandwiches arrive as I gather my courage. I sip my iced tea. "Probably a lot like you. Don't want the leg and no way to have it happen. I pretend, but that doesn't help anymore. If I'm off base...."

"So damn close, it hurts."

"Why are we just meeting? I've felt so alone forever."

"Just the way life works, I guess." We eat a few bites. "I had it off two years ago, just moved here recently."

"How much?"

"Most of it, a few inches left." She chews and swallows. "There was a waiting list and I just got mine done before they stopped."

"Stopped? Crap. Crap. Just my luck."

"Hey, we can be friends at least."

"I'd like that. Maybe some other doctor will start chopping one day."

"These things happen occasionally. I'll put out some feelers if you'd like. Any others around?"

"I happened to meet a woman late last night who was on crutches pretending downtown. I stopped at a red light and there she was. We talked for a while. We're having dinner tonight, want to join us?"

"You seeing anyone?" Loren asks. Her hand rests on mine. "I'd like to get to know you." She blows me a kiss from puckered lips. "Maybe after dinner, just the two of us."

A woman had never propositioned me, but the spell this one has me under is overwhelming. I nod a few times, feeling my heat rise and my panties becoming damp. I take her hand and kiss it a few times, then suck a finger suggestively.

-


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Re: Amputee pretender

Post: # 19852Unread post admin
15 Dec 2017, 13:24

We wait outside Sadie's Restaurant for fifteen minutes past when Karen promised to meet. She does not come and there is no way to contact her. Having assumed she'd show, I had not bothered exchanging phone numbers. I look at Loren and shrug.

"Guess it just the two of us," she says. She takes my hand, whispering with a grin, "Darn."

"Yeah, darn." I flash her a big smile.

"I live a few blocks from here. We could order takeout."

She squeezes my hand and kisses me briefly. A few more buttons are unfastened on her dress than at lunch and the view into her cleavage is welcoming. I feel my heart racing like a horny teenager.

"Great idea," I finally say.

Out of the elevator on the top floor, we stand in a private foyer while she unlocks the door. "It's not much," she explains. "I didn't expect company, so things are a mess."

"God, you should see mine. It's trashed right now."

We walk into an immaculately clean, large loft, three times the size of my apartment. There are high ceilings with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the river and tall buildings across it. The lights sparkle like the view from an airplane flying over a city. The furniture and decorations are tasteful and carefully arranged. Original paintings and photographs I have only seen in books hang on the walls. Everything screams money.

"Very nice," I say, walking to one of the tall windows and looking out. "Very nice."

She is leaning against my back, kissing my neck. A hand slips around my waist and holds my stomach.

"Glad you could be here. Few understand our need. I haven't felt this close to any."

Her hand explores my chest, rubbing a breast expertly over my blouse. There is no resistance from me. I willingly shift position enough to move the other breasts into reach. Before long, I twist in her arms and let our lips come together. She ravages my mouth, her tongue visiting deeply. I hear her pant as she begins to grind against me. Crutches clatter to the floor.

"Love has eluded me," she whispers. "I'm feeling hopeful."

"Me too," I coo, leaning my forehead against hers, staring across her face.

I wonder how many other women have stood in my place - or men. What craziness would prevent such a lovely woman from having a line around the block waiting to hold her? Now, I don't care that I am not the first or that I'm falling for a woman. I take her mouth and caress her back, her hip, and let my hand slide over the short stump hidden away.

"It'd feel better if you reach under the skirt," she teases.

I find only bare skin and a waxed mound as I explore. My hand massages the stump, leaving her slit for a few minutes. She moves the soft piece of thigh about my palm, teasing me. I withdraw my hand over her slit, dragging a finger through the wetness. Sucking the digit playfully, I sigh then smile, still sucking.

"I know where I'll be," I coo.

"I plan to be all over your p*ssy, for years to come."

I can tell she lets her emotions race ahead of reality as I have at the start of a relationship. Only now, I can see something developing besides a one-night fling in bed.

"Should we order or get naked?"

She chuckles then hops to the couch a few steps away. The crutches remain in place as though not needed. I follow, sitting close, pulling her against my shoulder. The buttons fall free easily and I grip a breast, rolling the firm mound about under my palm. The nipple grows erect.

"I'm glad I didn't have big breasts," she whispers, her head firmly against my neck.

"They're exactly the right size. Mine are smaller, maybe too small."

She opens my blouse and feels tenderly about, strumming a nipple with a fingertip. "Perfect."

For a while, we undress the other, kissing newly uncovered places to excess, then proceeding until we are naked with no place un-kissed. She fondles her stump, squeezing and massaging it into different shapes as if tempting me.

"Careful," I say.

"Why, what'cha goin' to do?" She snickers, still rubbing. "I often find I can't stop touching it. I'm afraid one day in public I'll realize I have my skirt up with it exposed while I busily rub." She laughs.

"Such a hardship."

"Only someone like you would understand. I love that about you."

I glance over at the large bed in an open area that seems to create a bedroom without walls. There's a dresser, a small sitting area, and a closet along the one wall. An opened wide door leads to the bathroom. From what I see, there is a marbled counter with two sinks and tiled walls. I suspect a large tiled shower hides there.

"I'd like that," she whispers sensually, also glancing toward the bed. Her fingers fill me, stroking quietly.

"Oh-h, yeah-h," I moan, not wanting her to stop anytime soon. "Keep...." I grip her wrist, pumping the hand whose fingers fill me. "Oh-h, oh," I moan. "So-o many orgasms bottled up in there."

"Lets get you in bed so we can take our time."

Reluctantly, I let her fingers out. I flash a big smile then stand, offering her a hand. She hops beside me, arm around my waist. We fall together across the bed - faces locked together, a hand all over her stump in excited touches.

"You thrill me," she whispers in my ear, her lips sucking the earlobe. "I can't believe we found each other."

"Heavenly."

She nibbles down my body then across my mound, fingers already inside. I willingly give myself to her, lost in the pending climax, my legs splayed. I deliciously memorize the motions, eager to do the same for her, my first oral experience with a woman. I quickly race though more than the usual climaxes offered so reluctantly by former boyfriends - usually cock in p*ssy fashion. My sounds - moans and groans - are sometimes loud. She does not suggest I be quiet so I continue being vocal since doing so adds to my own excitement.

"If I didn't have any legs...." I chuckle.

"Then, I'd 'never' let you out of bed."

"Temp me."

She moves beside me, taking my mouth for a while, a hand strolling over me.

"Can I tell you...of course...silly me?" She smiles, staring into my blue eyes. "I wanted to just have one leg, but, ah, my dream woman doesn't have any. Nada."

"Like I said, temp me." I smile.


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Re: Amputee pretender

Post: # 19853Unread post admin
15 Dec 2017, 13:25

"I remodeled this loft so I could use a wheelchair. It's in the closet. I use it some."

"Hmmm." I suck her mouth for a few moments. "A missing leg like yours or both legs...."

"Yeah, start with one, then the other later." She kisses me. "With kisses like those, even just one leg would be fine." She chuckles.

-

I never found Karen again. Of course, I never looked. I was finding love with Loren. Marcy had found a man and was building a relationship there, so she seemed happy. I rarely went home and gradually more of my clothes found there way into Loren's closet.

"I'd like you to move in with me," she says one morning as we shower.

I had prepared myself for the offer. Even the first night I knew my answer, but I had taken time to sort out my feelings. Friends would wonder about me, I had never shown any signs of wanting a female lover. Of course, they didn't know I wanted to be missing a leg or two either.

The washcloth moves about my body, lather everywhere, as I lean against the wall hoping my knees won't weaken from the orgasmic haze that surrounds me. She kneels, hands sliding up the outsides of my thighs, her mouth taking my mound, ravaging the edges of my opening up and back down, tongue drilling everywhere.

"Will you?"

"No way can I refuse you. Not in a million years."

"Settled. I'll call the movers to pack you."

"I don't have much."

"Shhh." She covers my lips with a finger. "Its nothing." She sucks my lower lip. "Tonight, we'll celebrate. I want you to go in my wheelchair."

"Ah...."

"Let your feet rest on the footrest. I just want you in the chair. You'll be hot."

The whole time she speaks, her fingers rub my slit, draining another climax.

"I'd love to do that. It's been fun around the loft."

-

Things at work have been a blur ever since the 'need' had resurfaced and I first spotted Loren then made the trip to the bridge. I am so happy I walked back from the brink. Happy doesn't quite capture my feelings now. I've never found myself in love as I am. I feel like I float.

"Eva, we need to talk, in my office," my boss says. I suspect I'm in trouble and follow silently, feeling like going to the principle's office in school.

He closes the door and points at a chair. I take it and he moves to the other side of the large desk then sits.

"Eva, is there a problem?"

"No."

"Well Eva, I think there is. I don't know what, and I don't care, but I need you to be focused on your work while you are here. No daydreaming and no more screw-ups, I'm getting too many complaints about your work. Do you hear me?"

His finger is shaking in my direction to emphasize his growing anger. I struggle to hold back the flood of tears welling up inside me. I can feel my labored breaths as I try to respond.

"I thought I was doing better. Sir, I know.... I think I'm...."

"We'll talk in a week and see, but I'll be watching you more closely. Stop being a 'screw-up'."

"Yes...ah, yes...sir." My words are halting as I mumble them.

"That's all for now." He makes it clear we are finished talking and I leave.

Crushed and shaken, I return and lean slightly into his office. "Sir...."

"Yes. Yes. What is it?"

"It's almost the end of the day, I'd like to take the rest off. Our conversation has shaken me badly."

"I'm sorry. I just thought it fair to let you know. Sure, sure, go ahead." He waves a hand towards the door. "In the morning be ready to work though."

"Thank you, sir."

I grab my purse and walk towards the elevator, happy to still have my job, but still rattled badly. I've never had a problem anywhere I've worked and surely never been reprimanded like this.

I walk through a few stores and just looking, trying to shake what just happened. The only bright thing seems to be Loren. I don't know what her reaction would be if I lost my job. I've already given notice for my apartment and she probably has called the movers. What a waste of money for so little to move.

She is home when I get there. Her arms wrap me lovingly as her mouth takes mine, reminding me of her love. I feel the short stump rub between my legs.

"Might just have to take you to bed," she teases.

"Might be the best thing." I frown.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I got yelled at, at work. He seems to think I'm a 'screw-up'. That was his word."

"Come to bed, I'll make it feel better."

For the next two hours she did. All I did was savor her pleasures and she allowed no return favors. I was a post-orgasmic wreck when she was finished. Noodles replaced my arms and legs. I had no strength.

"Geez, maybe I should get him to yell at me more often," I tease, lying limp.

"I love you too much to let anyone yell at you."

"I know, and I love you. You fill so many holes in my life. I never knew such happiness."

"I'm glad. I feel the same and I want you to never leave."

"That'd be like heaven," I say, feeling a little strength return.

She stares into my face a moment. "Hmmm, I've never loved a woman, maybe you haven't either." She pauses and catches my reaction. "It doesn't matter. Nothing does other than we stay together. Right?"

"Right."

"Listen, this is the best news." She smiles, letting the tension build a little. "I've just found a surgeon."

"That's fantastic. Where?"

"It doesn't matter. We'll take the jet, maybe spend six months lounging in some paradise, just us."

"Jet?"

"Yeah, a private jet I timeshare with a few strangers. Have you ever been on a private jet?"

I laugh. "Me?"

"It's okay, you'll love it."

"How many on the flight?"

"Just the two of us."

"Oh, wow. Really?"

"Do you have a passport?" I shake my head. "Well, I'll arrange an expedited passport. It only takes a few days."

"What about work?"

"Honey, tell the asshole you don't need the job."

"But I do-o."

"No! No you don't."

She sucks my mouth, letting her tongue roam inside it. I feel a trainload of climaxes roaring through me."


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Re: Amputee pretender

Post: # 19854Unread post admin
15 Dec 2017, 13:25

The villa is secluded, overlooking the bay that leads to the Caribbean Sea. For miles, the water is a mixture of light and dark blues, in places the coral reefs are visible. A few large yachts and many smaller boats sail past. I lounge on a towel lying on the cement by the small lap pool just off the master bedroom, watching them. My hips have healed, both thighs completely gone. We discussed doing one then the other, but as we discussed things with the surgeon, it became clear I should not do things piecemeal in the event he might not be able to do something in the future.

"Hey, babe," Loren coos, bringing me a rum punch. I prefer 'babe' to 'babycakes' any day, but being with Loren makes anything okay.

"Hey, lovely one." I take a sip, and lean back on an elbow as I twist onto one hip.

"I'm thinking we should buy a place like this."

"Already an island girl."

She moves closer and unfastens the top of my one-piece thong, pulling the front down.

"I love this body."

"Yours cranks my motor."

She pulls with a tug and my legless hips give it up easily. "Damn, I like how that works."

"You should try it." I laugh.

"Would you like me that way?"

I shrug, not caring how many arms or legs she has, just as long as we are together. I know we will be for a long time.


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Re: Amputee pretender

Post: # 19951Unread post CrazyCactus
16 Dec 2017, 00:24

admin wrote:
15 Dec 2017, 13:19
The word that describes my life better - to f*ck.
Оль, ты хотя бы читаешь,то что цитируешь?



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Re: Amputee pretender

Post: # 19978Unread post admin
16 Dec 2017, 13:36

:-[


Если нечего сказать по теме лучше промолчи @

.....бывают дни хорошие...
:angel:

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