Hotel: Front Desk

I worked at a large hotel to support Dottie. Forever it seemed. She was older by at least ten years, but she was missing her left leg. I always thought we shared something special. Often she would welcome me home wearing nothing. Sex was great; all forms shared, often to excess. She left me for another woman a year ago.

I moved away to a huge costal city and began working in a large swank hotel facing the ocean. I had hopes of finding someone new among the flocks of tourists.

-

I push the form across the marble counter and watch as Leah rests the shiny metal hook of the prosthetic arm to steady it before signing the bottom holding a pen in her real hand. She smiles wantonly at me for a moment before taking the cardkey and pushing it between the halves of the hook.

"Let know if I can do anything," I tell her.

She continues to study me for longer than necessary, and then says in a sensual voice that makes me think of the sirens of the Odyssey, "You know my room number."

I have no wax for my ears and hear the words echo in my mind. I watch her hips sway under the black designer jeans as she walks towards the elevator. The hook dangles beside her. I remember fondly the vision of the deep valley between her breasts and wonder what she looks like naked and without the arm.

Seeing what I am looking at, Dave says quietly, "Poor woman." He then waits for the next customer in line to step forward.

For the next hour, I check people in and out with less enthusiasm as I remember Leah.

"What's wrong?" Dave asks when no one is at the counter.

"Nothing. Just a long day I guess. You know how that is."

"Yeah, man. Did you see that last babe I waited on? Whew, legs from here to China ... and a rack to boot."

A man steps up to the counter and the conversation ends abruptly. Dave takes care of him as I go into the back to clock out for the day.

As I walk into the lobby, I see Leah step from the elevator without the hook. She has changed into a sleeveless black t-shirt and loose fitting white cotton slacks that drape over her black running shoes. I look at the way the t-shirt grips her body, as a lover should. Her breasts jostle with each step. The left arm ends midway to the elbow and hangs casually.

I wait and watch. She sees me.

"Oh, hi Mark." Her voice is sweet and inviting.

I am impressed she noticed my nametag, or remembers my name. "Hey! Another day over."

"I was just going to have a late lunch. Join me." She glances towards the hotel coffee shop then back at me.

"Sure."

I follow her to a booth by a window near the back and sit across from her. I enjoy her face in silence for a while as the hostess places opened menus in front of us then walks away. Leah's face is sweet and her lips beg for kisses. The ice blue eyes hold my attention.

"You're staring," she playfully teases.

"Sorry. I guess I was just taken with your loveliness."

She moves her stump slightly and looks intently at my face. "Perhaps this interests you." Her voice is not accusing, but teasing as if she is baiting me.

"Well, of course. It's not every day I have a late lunch with a beautiful woman with one arm." I chuckle softly.

The older, chubby waitress is standing by the booth tapping her pad with a pencil. "Should I come back?"

"No Martha," I tell her. We place our orders and she walks away.

"Is she more your type?" Leah laughs.

"No, no, not at all. You're my type."

"What, you dig chicks with one arm?"

"Would that be so bad, especially if you are the 'chick'?"

She reaches across the table and holds my hand. "No it would not. I guess I just needed to test you a little. Some guys, well, they don't treat me as nicely as you are. They ... they think I'm desperate. Older guys, old enough to be my father, they just want to take care of me. I just want a man that will be with me, be a good lover. Is that you?"

"Sure ... I'd like to be yours. We just met though."

"I know, and there is no rush. Just, things to clear out of the way ... you know."

"I think I understand. Believe me; if it is only about your arm, don't worry. I love the way you look without it."

"Thank you. I appreciate the vote of confidence."

She looks at me for a while in silence. Our order comes. She covers her fries with salt and ketchup then takes a bite of her burger. I watch with interest how well she does things with just one hand.

"Sometimes the hook helps hold things while I cut or pick something up. It didn't take long to learn to do things with one hand. It's not so bad."

"You look comfortable that way."

"Listen, you probably didn't notice, but I'm missing both legs ... below the knee. I wear prosthetic legs."

"Wow. I don't mind."

"'Wow' as in the more stumps, the merrier?" She grins and a moment later, takes a bite of a fry.

"Sorry. I was just showing a little.... I don't know what happened, but if I said anything that upset you...."

She takes my hand and looks deep into my face. "Look, Mark. It's okay. I know most people don't know what to say. I just didn't want us to be getting all hot and bothered in bed and have you find out when I take my legs off." She giggles. "I'm not like most amputees. I am ... ah, comfortable being this way. I think you find it exciting that I am as well. That's a good thing."

"I am having a good time in your company. I do like you. To be truthful, I do like that you are missing some parts. Otherwise, I wouldn't have waited for you."

"If I hadn't happened to step off the elevator...."

"I was on my way to knock on your door. After all, you did kind of invite me to find you."

"Yeah, I guess I did." She giggles.

We eat in silence for a while, often pausing to look at each other. I assume she undresses me in her thoughts just as I do her. She takes a deep breath for some reason, her chest swells pressing nipples tighter against the soft fabric. I imagine what they look like unhindered by the t-shirt, perhaps just as they fall free as I drag the fabric over her head.

"You're a boob man," she teases, then works a fry between her lips as if she is giving head.

"I wouldn't mind being that fry." I snicker.

"I bet not."

"Anything else?" Martha asks. She slides the check across the table and walks away without waiting for an answer she knows.

Leah takes my hand and intertwines our fingers. "There's a boardwalk isn't there? I'm not good in the sand. Let's take a walk, see the scantly clad bodies for a while."

"Sure." I sign the check with my employee number and stand, offering my hand to help her stand.

"A gentleman, I see." She gives me a big smile then a peck on the lips. She leans close and whispers in my ear. "I bet you even will help a lady off with her legs." She pulls back and snickers.

"Some ladies only need help with their shoes."

We hold hands as we walk out the rear of the hotel, past the pool, onto the wide boardwalk. The sugar white sands spreads for over a hundred feet to the edge of the turquoise water lapping against the beach. A large wave crashes suddenly. I feel her grip tighten for a moment. My heart pounds hard.

She leans against the railing and I stand close. Her hand rubs the small of my back. A woman with a firm body covered in well-tanned skin and a thong bikini walks towards the water.

"Legs are so overrated," she whispers, to no one.

I turn and take in her from the side for a long moment.

"Are you a leg man?" she asks, as her head turns slightly in my direction.

"Actually, no. You might say I'm a legless man." I laugh.

She turns towards me and leans the elbow on the railing. "Long or short stumps?"

"Anything above the knee, but something closer to the hip is my preference."

"Hmmm," she mummers, letting her fingers rub her chin. "Mine are different length. One is quite short, the left one. The other is longer."

"Wow."

"I take it you approve." She smiles and pulls her hand firmly over a breast, almost offering it to me.

"You sound like a real playground. I feel privileged."

I pause to enjoy the view of her. My hand pulls at her back and she moves closer without resistance. Our lips touch and lost emotions fill me in a rush. Our tongues quickly get to know one another.

"When do the rides open?" I tease, still holding her against me.

She grinds slightly as she pecks my lips. "Soon," she tells me wantonly.

-

The door to her room clicks shut in a familiar way. I watch her hips sway with each step. She pulls the t-shirt over her head in a fluid motion and tosses it onto the chair then turns towards me. A hand cups a breast and offers it.

"Sucking some parts makes me come," she coos. "Won't tell you which." She laughs.

"I guess I'll just have to try them all." I lean down and nibble the breast while letting my hand stroll between her thighs.

"Let's just get naked and play," she offers, taking a step.

She continues to the bed and sits on the edge then unsnaps her pants. She leans back on the one hand and looks at me wishfully.

"Do you want to help a poor lady off with her legs?" She giggles.

"Very much so."

I sit as she lies on her back. The zipper makes a wonderful sound and her hips lift slightly to aid in getting the pants past. I leave the waistband just above the knees and remove her legs then let everything fall in a muffled thud on the floor. I pull at the top of the white French cut panties with my teeth, inhaling the wonderful aromas as my face passes her mound. My hand takes over as my lips return and kiss along the parting lips, licking deep through the wet folds of skin.

My hands stroll over each leg stump, becoming acquainted with the soft ends. She moves them lovingly against my palms, letting tender sounds flow from her mouth as my tongue pulls her clitoris from its hood. I feel her fingers tussle with my hair as I adjust my position to be more directly between her thighs. The stumps spread and rub the sides of my face. She grinds softly against my mouth.

"Oh-h," she moans. "Yeah-h, there."

Her swollen bud rolls between my lips as several fingers vanish inside. Honey soils the digits and covers my chin as it dribbles out.

My lips kiss the inside of the short thigh and across the fading scars. A hand molds the flesh under my mouth as I suck and bite.

"Oh-h god-d ... yes-s. You found the magic place."

I hear the arm stump pound hard against the bed and her hips writhe in pleasure. The longer stump slaps against my face then the bed. My fingers remain inside, feeling, probing, fucking.

"Ah-h, ah," she begin saying repeatedly, her voice deep and low. "Finger me, suck my stump," she screams. "Eat my stump ... the short one."

I press against the front of her channel and she roars in pleasure. The pressure remains and she roars again as I continue my feast on her stump.

"Almost-t," she begs. Her hips flail and she grinds against my hand, my fingers hold in place.

"Yeah-h, yeah-h."

I watch from between her stumps as she falls limp. A smile forms across her face.

"Baby-y," she coos. "Let me suck your cock, please-e."

I slide my hips towards her face, leaving mine between her thighs and a hand on each stump. I nudge her and she rolls on top letting her stumps dangle on either side of my face, my tongue lapping though her slit.

Her hand and arm stump fondle and play between my legs, soon her lips devour my shaft. I feel them roam along the warm skin and sometimes pausing to kiss the stretched skin across the swollen head, pecking at the precum oozing from the tip.

Her lips tighten, the passages quicken. I know I can't hold back much longer. She fingers my balls, sometimes rolling them in her hand. Fingers join her lips and stroke together. My shaft tenses then the cream fills her mouth. She gulps as her lips suckle the head, fingers milking all I have to offer.

We twist and turn until our lips are together. We taste each other though the long kiss. She presses against my lingering erection until I enter and swell.

"Oh my-y," she says into my mouth. "Do you always come back so quickly?"

"Just for you," I tease.

"Such a kidder."

"You sure make it easy. Alone, I've come four or five times in an evening."

"Really? I thought I was the only orgasm junkie."

Her hips worked up and down, her pussy massaging me into renewed firmness.

"I enjoy masturbating in front of someone," she whispers slowly over the next few strokes. Her words helping the feel of her channel wrapped tight around my shaft.

"We can do that together ... watch and play," I tell her. "I like that."

"I hope there isn't someone at home."

"Not in a long time. She was missing a leg, but at the end she ran off with a woman."

"Jake was okay when I was missing just the arm. But as each leg came off, he grew angrier."

"His loss, my gain." I laugh. "How about the remaining arm?"

"It stays." She chuckles. "I'd lose my independence if that went away. Why, would you prefer me more if it wasn't there?"

"Actually, you are perfect this way. I couldn't ask for anything better."

"Sweetheart, that is so nice."

"Hmmm, you taste delicious. I loved going down on you."

"How'd I get so lucky? Wow."

Her hips continue to slowly move her wet channel along my shaft as her tongue dives deep in my mouth and her arm stump caresses my face. I feel her short thighs press against mine and enjoy the lack of anything beyond them. I thrust against her and she thrusts against me. Repeatedly until I explode.

"Darling," she coos. "I hope that it doesn't scare you that I don't want this to ever end."

"It won't."

"Hmmm, can I ask you a favor? I don't want to put my legs on just yet, but I need to piss really badly. Could you carry me?"

"What a sacrifice." I laugh. "Sure." I scoop her in my arms, feeling her lightness against me as I walk towards the bathroom.

I sit her on the toilet and ask if she'd prefer some privacy. She shakes her head. I watch the way her stumps partly cover the seat as I listen to the stream start then ends. She wipes between her thighs as she looks up at me.

"At home, I have a powered wheelchair so I don't always have to wear the fucking legs." She chuckles. "I love the legless look, you know. I often wear a short skirt." She chuckles again lets me know she is finished.

She cradles softly in my arms, her head resting against my neck with soft pecks applied. I stand by the large window facing the ocean and we watch the surf.

"I love carrying you."

"It feels good. It might be fun sometimes, to be carried out in public." She grins. "People would stare. I don't care."

"Oh yeah, I could do that."

"Will you stay here tonight? I don't want you to forget anything about me."

"Maybe tomorrow night we can try my place. I want you to feel at home there. You can help me decide what needs changing to make it wheelchair friendly."

"Mark-k," she drawls. "I will ... as long as I know you'll be with me."