Life Buoy for an Amputee or an Amputee Who Is a Life Buoy? - Cover

Life Buoy for an Amputee or an Amputee Who Is a Life Buoy?

Copyright© 2013 by Duna

Chapter 3: Could Two almost Losers be a Lucky Couple?

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 3: Could Two almost Losers be a Lucky Couple? - Will an amputee find love after being cheated on?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Revenge   Lactation   Amputee   Violence  

Carl and his wife, Doris, had told me a lot about John, the now 50% partner in Carl's firm. His first wife cheated on him and he divorced her. His second marriage was unsuccessful, too and he broke some limbs on his wife's lovers when he caught them together just two weeks after the wedding. He got three years in prison suspended for five years. His first wife got a restraining order against John so he couldn't see his two daughters at all. I was very sorry for him, especially for his being torn away from his children. Carl and my sister-in-law did not say much about me to John. He knew I lived at my parents' and that due to an accident I was an amputee. It was nice of him to help my brother find the materials when my family transformed the house for my comfort and safety.

On Wednesday my brother called to tell me that John was also invited to my party.

"He'll be afraid of me! Why did you have to invite him?" I shrieked to Carl on the phone.

" ... Okay ... I know you told him I'm an amputee, but he hasn't even seen me before!"

"Listen, darling..."

"It's such an awkward situation ... honestly ... how could you do this to me?"

"Stop it, Sis. Don't panic! I invited him for ten o'clock in the morning, when you would be cooking. You'll be gliding and fluttering around pans and spices like an acrobatic fairy, like you always do, clouded by an irresistible smell of the yummiest..."

I started giggling at once.

My brother always knew how to tame me, "You bragged about me?"

"That's all it is about, yeah," he laughed heartily, and then his tone got more serious, "I am really proud of you, Wendy!"

I gave up about John being there "All right, I'll be in the kitchen and be the local spectacle then."

We laughed a lot together.

I was a little anxious, but I put on the sexiest kitchen dress to show what was left of my femininity. John told me later that my dress was the best choice to attract him to me. Generally, only my family members had been there on my birthdays since the accident, so the presence of a stranger and a male guest excited me a little.

My sister's husband, Garry, was a surgeon and they had two daughters; Carl and Doris had two sons and all four were under school age. They were all coming to the party, so the house would be fully packed, I thought.

I carefully planned my birthday lunch menu. It consisted of Hungarian Goulash soup, pancakes with minced meat and sauce ala Hortobágy, chicken paprika, and Hungarian style strudels with various fillings for dessert. My mother would be my assistant, but I was the chef. We planned to drink mineral water, beer, champagne and a Hungarian dessert wine called 6 puttony Tokaji Aszú. We went to the nearest supermarket with my Mom and bought everything for the feast. I couldn't handle a large grocery order alone, so her help shopping was important. When shopping on my own, I usually used a backpack, which I simply put in the car when I was finished. It was perfectly enough for buying a few items, but definitely not for a feast.

Saturday morning we began work in the kitchen. My Mom helped me with the preparations but then it was me alone who did all the cooking. She told me several times that I was a better chef than her.

It was not yet ten o'clock when the first guests, that is, my brother's family arrived. They came to the kitchen to greet me. My adorable young nephews, Brian and Mike, swarmed the place and jumped around me a great deal before storming into the living room. I was very fond of them.

"You're very sexy today," my brother complemented me.

"I'd like to limit John's aversion to an amputee."

Carl smiled at me, "You'll go even farther."

I waved my hand and I turned back to the counter to peel the rest of the potatoes.

When John pushed the buzzer and was led into the kitchen by Carl I was still working with the dishes, leaning against the frame for support. I turned to the new guest and when we looked at each other. I still think we will never forget that moment. At first he was clearly astonished by the sight of the one legged chef, but then politely introduced himself. Carl was a real devil to leave us alone and I saw John was confused to be suddenly confronted with a beautiful amputee.

I smiled at him to ease the tension, "I bet you haven't been in a house like this, have you? My sister says it is a mixture of subway carriage and a strip bar."

While we were laughing at the resemblance, I went to the sink in the opposite corner of the kitchen to wash the carrots. In doing so, I let John see my frame-climbing skills. He told me later that he was totally amazed by me as I was using the handrails and poles like a gibbon uses the branches of the trees.

When I came back to chop the vegetables, he gathered himself and asked, "Could I help you with something?"

"Very kinds of you, thanks, but you don't know where the things are. If I need help I ask my Mom or Dad on the phone. That's quicker, you see," I responded politely.

He exclaimed sincerely, "You're fantastically skillful! I've never seen a woman like you!"

I turned to him and I could tell he truly liked me. He was embarrassed some minutes before, but now it was me who felt that way.

"I had a year to learn how to move about in this subway carriage," I smirked.

He suddenly remembered it was my birthday he had come to celebrate.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot to say happy birthday," he flushed. "So ... Happy Birthday, Wonderful Wendy!" he stressed each word especially the last two, with a wide grin on his face.

"Thank you." I smiled at him again.

"Could I stay here in the kitchen with you?"

"I don't mind..." I shrugged mockingly, "Provided you behave yourself." Then I added, "I like your company, in point of fact."

The chance for a good mate flashed before my mind's eye at that moment.

"Hey, Wendy girl," I thought, "Here's the first man who admires you. Don't spoil this opportunity! John's a nice man and he appreciates both your skills and your body. Don't miss the chance, it's now or never!"

Though ashamed of my disability, I was nevertheless very much aware of my feminine roundness at the right places of my body, and my leg was neat and slender, yet finely muscular.

We talked about the Hungarian dishes I cooked and about other trivialities. It seemed he would have remained with me in the kitchen for hours if my brother had not come for him. My sister's family and my grandparents arrived. Carl took the mesmerized John to the new guests, and then ran back to me for a second.

"You like him?" he whispered intimately into my ear.

"I'll conquer him!" I replied on impulse, without thinking over the phrase I just let slip.

My devil seedling brother laughed, "So now you know why I invited him for ten o'clock."

I remained alone with the bowls again and continued my diligent labor with the strudel fillings, smiling to myself. I felt my heart pounding the excitement and happiness over a nice man's admiration of me.

My grandparents and my sister with her family came to greet me. My nieces, Kate and Ann kissed me and found it impossibly funny that with my hands and apron covered in flour I couldn't really hug them but imitated a hug from behind the bars, flour snowing from my body all over the floor.

When everyone went to the living room John reappeared. I saw my chance of conquest.

"Do I disturb you if I stay here in the kitchen?" he asked.

I smiled at him with my happiest smile, "Not at all. I'm glad of the company and I like talking."

He looked at the bowls and ingredients on the counter very curiously, "What exactly are you doing now?"

"I'm mixing stuffings for the Hungarian strudels. It's a layered pastry, with thin layers of dough enclosing the most delicious fillings you can imagine ... that's the most important part, you know, the stuffing in it. The paper thin dough with the filling on top is rolled up carefully and baked in the oven ... you'll see ... Strudel pastry dough is very elastic and it has to be stretched by hand very thinly, that's the secret." I explained enthusiastically.

"Wow, mmm! Sounds yummy. You're a real expert!" he stared at me in awe, "And what's in those bowls?"

"I'm mixing ground poppy seeds and mashed pumpkin in this one. Then I'm going to mix ground poppy seeds with sour cherry in that one, that's another filling, you see. I've already made the apple and cinnamon stuffing, it's over there, and the cottage cheese is mixed with raisins in the fourth one ... have a look. All together four different sorts of strudels," my hands were moving fast while I spoke, "I also put sugar into each ... You see I'm putting a portion of filling onto this piece of dough I've stretched, like this ... roll it up ... some flour ... and done."

"Amazing! And those are already ready to bake, aren't they?" he pointed to the baking pan next to the oven.

"Yes, they are. Waiting for the oven to heat up."

"Can I help you?" he was enthusiastic.

"Thank you John, I can manage almost everything alone."

I placed another four strudels on an empty baking pan. There were several fully packed pans by now. I leaned against a rod with my shoulder, opened the oven with one hand, and quickly threw the pans into it with the other, one after the other. Years later I learned my John saw this like a circus stunt by an acrobatic juggler.

He almost applauded, "You're fantastic!"

I flushed, "I'm not. But thank you, anyway. It's easy for me to manage the kitchen work, as I do it every day, you know," I replied modestly.

At last I began to fry the pancakes, deliberately turning and moving about a lot more in my sexy dress than was necessary. I could feel his eyes pinned on the round parts of my body, and I was happy to show them to him.

It was clearly an all-family conspiracy that nobody disturbed us in the kitchen. They knew it was not only my festive lunch I was preparing, but also my soon to be husband. My pussy was wet and I flushed several times, my nipples were hard and they almost pierced my blouse.

When I was done with the dishes he joined the others in the dining room, while I changed my dress. We sat next to each other at the corner of the table so that we could talk. My mom and my sister brought in the food, as I couldn't carry so many trays quickly enough.

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