Cindy

Cindy - More About Amputees

    Originally from
    "Cavalier" magazine

    Like some of your other readers, I have discovered that a
one-legged girl has a certain erotic mystique about her that is
hard to explain but fun to enjoy both in the sack and out of it.

    My first exposure to the special charms of one-legged girls
came when I was in high school and had a cute one-legged blonde
sitting next to me in my math class. She was sixteen and I was
seventeen, and because she was having problems with the math, and
since I had the top grades in our math class, our teacher asked
me to tutor her after school.

    It was common knowledge at school that Cindy had one leg;
that her right leg had been amputated after a bike accident when
she was about 12, and that she always used an artificial leg. I'd
known her for a couple of years, and never gave her a second
thought, although she was a nice-looking girl. No reason, I
guess, we just had never connected.

    Her artificial leg looked like just a regular leg that was a
little stiff, and had a slightly different color. Her real leg
was a shapely one, and she always dressed in nylons and smart
low-heeled shoes. She must have had some limitations in her
movements, but I never saw her experience any problems in the
day-to-day school activities I observed.

    Cindy invited me home one afternoon after school to help her
with her math, and when we entered her house I heard her mother
call to her from the back of the house to take off her leg and
rest her stump.  Her mother, of course, didn't realize I was
there, and Cindy was embarrassed to have me hear the reference to
her stump. But she grinned gamely at me, rolled her eyes, and
dutifully went off down the hall to her bedroom. Meanwhile, I sat
down on the sofa in the living room, and arranged the math book
and notebook on the coffee table in front of me, still completely
unconcerned.

    When Cindy emerged, she was on crutches. I had never seen her
on crutches before, and I was stunned to see how sexy she looked,
moving gracefully across the room with only the one leg showing
beneath her knee-length skirt. She had also removed her shoe and
stocking, and looked much sexier barefoot and one-legged than she
did when she was wearing her leg. She was quite skilled with her
crutches, and seemed to just float along.

    If that were not enough, she had not changed out of her
straight, tight skirt and, without her leg on, I could see the
outline of her stump as it swayed gently around inside her skirt.
Even though it must have been obvious that the artificial leg
fastened to something, it really fascinated me to realize that
Cindy still had part of her right thigh. When she sat down next
to me on the sofa, the shape of her stump was plainly outlined by
the snug skirt. I could tell that her leg had been amputated just
below mid-thigh.

    My mouth went dry, and I began to get a terrific hard-on. I
didn't have the slightest idea how I was going to continue with
our math lesson, but then her mother saved us. She announced from
the back of the house that she was going out shopping thinking,
of course, that we were still reviewing our math, and left the
two of us alone in the living room.

    After a few minutes of trying valiantly to continue the math
reveiw, I noticed that Cindy's skirt had crept up above her knee,
and I could see the very end of her stump. There was a white
sock-like thing over it, and I kept stealing glances at it,
trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. I was also trying to
keep my notebook in my lap to cover the painful bulge in my
jeans.

    Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I slowly and delib-
erately  reached down and laid my hand on the end of her stump.
Cindy let out a little gasp and put her hand over mine, but she
didn't push me away. To my surprise, she raised her stump off the
sofa cushion and pulled the skirt back so more of her stump stuck
out of her skirt. She asked me if I thought she looked horrible
with her leg cut off. I gulped, and told her she was very
attractive, and that a one-legged girl was about the sexiest
thing I'd ever seen in my life.

    I held my breath, not knowing what kind of reaction I'd get
to that, but I was rewarded with a big smile and an affectionate
kiss. Then she shifted her position on the sofa so that her stump
was resting across my lap.

    Soon we were necking and Cindy let me pull off her stump sock
so I could feel her bare stump. I pulled her around to face me,
and she placed the tip of her stump in my crotch and began to
gently caress the bulge made by my rock-hard tool. I responded by
cupping her breast in my hand. I could feel that her nipple was
about as hard as my dick. I kissed her again, and as we embraced,
I slowly slid my hands around behind her back and under her
sweater, and unhooked her bra; then, holding my breath, I worked
the sweater up and over her head.

    I needn't have worried. She raised her arms cooperatively,
and off came both sweater and bra. I had to stare open-mouthed
for a moment at the sight of this lovely one-legged girl sitting
bare-breasted in my lap.

    I leaned down and kissed each delicate pink nipple, sucking
it lasciviously into my mouth. Cindy's breasts were not large,
but they were perfectly shaped, as only a 16-year-old girl's can
be, and as my mouth and tongue played with one rock-hard nipple
and then the other, she closed her eyes and gently pulled my head
more firmly to her. I could hear her moaning softly in her
throat.

    But suddenly she stopped, pushed me gently away, and stood up
on her single leg. I was afraid it was over.  She folded her left
arm under her breasts to steady them and, leaving her crutches on
the floor in front of the sofa, hopped on her one leg to lock the
front door. As she hopped along, her stump jerked convulsively up
and down, nearly causing me to come in my pants.

    When she returned, she took my hands in hers and pulled me to
my feet, and we were soon in a full-length, full-strength em-
brace.  She unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it open, and I could
feel her hard nipples pressing into my chest. After another long
kiss she reached down and unzipped my pants and fished out my
agonzied tool. She took a little hop backward, and for a moment
just stood there like a stork on her one leg, staring in apparent
amazement at my swollen member.

    I put my hands on her waist, found a little zipper on the
side of her skirt, slid it open, and the skirt dropped down
around her ankle. She had on only a pair of white panties under
the skirt, and the first sight of the full length of her stump
sticking out of the right side of her panties, was a memorable
moment. She raised her stump and I took it in my hand and
caressed it against my naked tool. Soon the panties joined the
skirt on the floor.

    She giggled, but offered no resistance as I put my hands on
her waist and lifted her up, freeing her single foot from the
clothing.  We disengaged, and she sat down on the sofa and lay
back, with her one leg slung over the back, and her stump
pointing at the front door. I stripped off what little clothing I
still had on, and lay between those two contrasting limbs; the
shapely, full leg and thigh on her left, and on her right, the
fascinating, sausage-like stump of her amputated right leg.

    I was as gentle as I could be, but by then I was also horny
as hell. We came together almost violently. On the first stroke  
my rod completely disappeared into her. Cindy was a virgin but
gave herself willingly, obviously ready for love. She closed her
eyes tightly and let out a great gasp as I entered her, but by
then it was too late to hold back. I tried to pull out, but she
grabbed my hips and held me firmly in place for several moments,
shuddering and gasping, her stump moving frantically against my
thigh. Finally she began to relax, and I began a slow, careful
rhythm.

    In a few minutes we had thoroughly exhausted each other, but
by then we were beginning to worry about her mother returning, so
we reluctantly wound up our "math lesson."

    But of course it was only the first of many. I learned that
day that a girl with one leg is not at all handicapped when it
comes to screwing. I loved the feeling of her stump against me,
as much as I loved her soft, delicate little breasts and nipples,
or the feel of my rigid rod sliding up inside her tight little
pussy and filling it with hot cum.

    We dated steadily for a year or so until she and her family
moved out of town. I was disappointed, especially when I could
not find any other one-legged girls to date until a few years
later when I got a job in the next state. An ordinary two-legged
girl I had started to date happened to mention one day that her
roommate had one leg. Before long I was dating the roommate.
After a few dates the one-legged roommate was willingly unstrap-
ping her artificial leg for me and hopping into the sack. We are
still good friends and through her I also met a couple of other
one-legged girls, and a girl with one arm, who turned out to be
just as interesting as the one-legged girls.

    Though I still date a non-handicapped girl once in awhile, I
prefer the amputees, especially the one-legged beauties, when
they are available. Evidently there are plenty of other guys who
also enjoy balling a girl with a stump, from what I've seen and
read. I have even heard of a few one-legged hookers in New York
and San Francisco and Los Angeles who keep quite busy.  --
S.H.C., Hartford, Conn.