Just a Flash

While cleaning out my purse, what a mess, I found a business card. 'Doris - Just a flash'. Who calls them self 'Doris'? On the left side is a nice pen drawing of a woman showing only from the waist to the tops of the thigh, legs spread wide, and two of her fingers holding the labia open. Nothing too explicit, not much detail, just a delicate erotic drawing. I tried to remember where I'd gotten the card, my mind going into overdrive. Surely I'd remember something like this wouldn't I? Where? 'Ah.' It came to me. The other night in the bar, that nice looking woman giving the guy a hand job while I watched. It was smooth, nice. I'd masturbated a few times that night to the thought of what had happened. Oh I loved Peggy, my current squeeze, she sucking my clit for a while that night, but something about watching another person having sex, any kind of sex, even a woman with a man, was a real turn on for me. Just thinking about that night now is making me drip down my thigh.

The phone number on the card was worn, worn badly. I could barely read it. Damn! Wish whatever that was, hadn't spilled on it. I can almost make it out and dial what I think it might be.

ring, ring, ring ... damn, please answer.

"Hello?"

"Doris?"

"Yes?"

"This is Beth, the woman with one leg from the bar." That would identify me better than anything, though I don't think of myself as a 'one legged' anything. Just a woman who has attributes and interests that happen to include long brown hair, small breasts, tall, having one leg, exposing myself, liking women, and so on.

"Hi sweet thing. I was hoping you'd call. Can I talk you into coming over?

Her voice was pleasant, smooth, a hint of a drawl, slow, quite sensual. The way she pronounced 'coming' was meaningful, intersting, more like 'cuming'.

"Love to. When?"

"Is that darling lady friend of yours coming too?"

"Peggy? No. She's out of town on business for a few nights."

"Damn! She, hell, both of you were sure easy on the eyes. Another time for her. What'cha doing now?"

"Nothing. Well, touching myself ... and listening to your wonderful voice."

"Darling, could eat you allll up." Almost like 'owl'. "Come over now and maybe we could have a little fun."

As I drove down 9th Avenue, my mind raced at the thought of what might happen, what Doris might really be like. Turning left on Sunset, her street, I marveled at the uniformity of all the houses, looking like Victorian Farmhouses, only 2 or 3 different designs, minor variations, alternating color combinations. So glad people are not as uniform, consistent. How boring would that be?

Fourth house on the left she said. There it is. Large wrap around porch. Nice. Really nice. I park in the driveway, way to the left side, directly in front of one door, as she had suggested. Crutches lightly tucked under my armpits, I walk along a short sidewalk to the porch. Before I have a chance to ring the doorbell, the door opens.

"Get that sweet little ass in here before Harry has a coronary."

I looked puzzled as I looked at Doris. Sure enough, not at all like I'd remembered. It was dark in the bar where she sat, maybe I just didn't see her well. Oh she wasn't bad looking, not at all, in fact quite pleasant I must say. Not a raging beauty queen, not into that look anyway. Once I got past the obvious fact she was standing on crutches, a single right leg, a 'fellow amputee' I thought, I noticed she was wearing a man's white long sleeved dress shirt, buttoned only once, not at the top or bottom, only the next to last button from the bottom, sleeves rolled up, maybe twice. Nothing else. Just the shirt. No shoe. Nothing. I could see her cleavage, almost see all of one breast, even a bit of nipple. Not huge breasts, not small, but just nice. Her hair was gray, not old ladies kind of gray, but that salt and pepper that looks dignified on some people, like Doris for example.

"Don't think he will last much longer if you just stand there."

I broke out of my spell. "Who's Harry?" I followed her into the house.

She held the door open and pointed across the street. "He loves to stand on his porch and jerk off while looking at me. Really digs one legged chicks. Was concerned about his ticker with both of us out there."

I followed her finger until I saw a middle aged, maybe older, yes probably much older, couldn't really tell from where I stood, his cock hanging out of his pants, him stroking it for all it was worth. Then, it gushed and blew his wad all over his porch.

"He was the guy at the bar that was so fixated on your stump that night. He was whacking off looking at me when he saw you. Guess he couldn't believe his luck having 2 women like us in view."

She shut the door. "Hot today. Don't want to let all the cold air get away. Sit down and rest your butt."

Doris was a bit coarser than I typically was attracted to, but still sweet. For some reason I was not put off with her. She did at least enjoy showing off for people and I was soooo turned on by her visually. As she walked, I could catch glimpses of her cheeks peaking from behind the tails of the shirt. She bent over once and a whole breast appeared, didn't bother to cover it back up as she stood again. Why? Hell, she was practically naked anyway. She sat next to me on the sofa and plopped her crutches down with a loud thud, bang, the aluminum tubes clanking together as they hit the floor. The breast still hanging out for the whole world to see, well maybe just for me to see. That was all that counted right now.

"Don't remember you having ..."

"... hell ... had that off 2 years ago. Best gift I could've given myself."

"Gift?"

"Sweetie, a gal's gotta do what she's gotta do. Always wanted it like this." She gave her stump under the shirt tail a little slap, then rubbed it as if to sooth the pain from the slap. "Found a doc in Asia, went and had it almost completely off." She pulled the bottom of her shirt to one side. Sure enough, the leg ended just below where her thigh used to start, the part that remained was a wide as the other thigh, blunt, not bad looking, a lot like mine. She left it exposed. "He was a stallion, really hung like a horse. Stud of an American man. He took care of me, I took care of him. God, I could barely get my mouth around that cock of his. Almost didn't come home either."

"How's your husband like it?"

"Oh that guy I was with at the bar? He's not my husband. Hell, I couldn't be with any man very long. They make good toys, but can't live with 'em. He just likes me to give him a hand job in public once in a while. That's ALL he wants."

The doorbell rang.

"Plumber. Damn garbage disposal's on the blink. Go hide in the pantry. It's got a frosted window. You can see lots. I know, hid in there many times and watched friends fucking around."

She gathered up her crutches and walked towards the door while I headed for the kitchen. Had no clue, but I assumed whatever would happen would be good. I shut the pantry door just as she opened the front door. Sure enough, I could see most of the kitchen from around the edges of the frosting.

"Here to fix your garbage ... holy fuck lady!" I guess he finally looked at her in that dress shirt. Wish I could have seen that. Wonder if her boob is still out?

"It's in here. Follow me."

"Anywhere you want! Oh my."

I could just picture her leading him by his prick, like the handle on a kids wagon.

"If you need to finish dressing ..."

"No. This is just fine. I like a little breeze you know."

She leaned against the kitchen counter, across from the pantry door, next to where he needed to be. He kneeled, stealing peeks on his way down, banging his head on the cabinet more than once. I was pretty sure if he stood up quickly, he'd shear his erect cock off at its base. Not a pretty sight I'm sure.

He pushed something on the bottom of the disposal. "Give it a try now."

She flipped the switch and it roared to life, then turned it back off.

"Just had to push a button down here."

"Have another button that needs pushing ... down here." She lingered on the 'down here' making sure he knew exactly what she was talking about, that is unless his light bulb was burned out, not the brightest bulb on the block, if you get my drift.

His head banged on the cabinet a few more times as he tried to get from under the sink.

"Glad your dick is not on your head. Hate to see it get messed up."

She was a card. He was hooked and she was reeling him in for sure. He would run a little, the line zipping out of the reel, the tension was set just perfect so he couldn't get too far. Her finger teased her labia, parting it just a little. A few more bangs of the head, and he was free from the confines below the sink.

"Was that the only button you're good at pressing? You made it roar quite nicely." It was all I could do to keep from laughing my ass off.

His hand touched her between the legs tentatively, not quite on her pussy.

"Need to wash up? Or am I wet enough?"

He looked like his pants could no longer restrain his erection. She wasn't touching him, but her words were not lost on him. The more she talked, the harder he became. I could almost see the zipper being ripped away like someone knocking a door down with splinters left all around the door jam.

"Glad you find my poor crippled body exciting. You do don't you? Or is just my sopping wet pussy?" Geez, the last thing she was, was crippled. What a crock of shit.

"Lady, I'm a married man." His hand was still between her legs.

She looked at his pants again. "He doesn't seem to be married. Think he needs to be set free." At last, she unzipped his pants and snaked his cock out of his underwear. He offered no resistance. "How about if I just give it a little rub. Bet he hasn't been touched lately has he?" She let his cock rest in her hand, fingers wrapped around the shaft, as she moved her hand back and forth. "Oh he likes that ... doesn't he?."

"Shit lady, I can't take much more of this."

"No ... not much. Bet just enough though. ... There, it's going to blow just about ... now." The cream colored ooze splattered on her leg, she pointed the cock towards the floor and with a few more strokes, the last few streams puddled next to her foot. "What a mess you've made. Bad boy. Bad, bad. You didn't even push my button and make me roar."

He again reached over, put his finger on her labia, pushed it in a knuckle's distance, then moved it up and down, not quite finding Doris's clit.

"Well you bad boy, doesn't your wife have a clit?" She grabbed his hand hard and shoved his finger directly on her large clit. "There! That's a clit! Push my button bad boy."

He looked at her face not knowing if he should leave, run, or what she was going to do to him. He tried to say something, but the words made no sense. He tried to rub his finger around her clit, but never quite seemed to know what to do.

"Your wife ever cum? Well, has she?" I could picture Dirty Harry saying "Do you feel lucky punk? Well, do you?"

Pulling his hand away, she barked "That's okay. My girlfriend knows what to do. What do I owe you?"

Meekly he whimpered "Nothing. Have a nice day." He picked up his tool box and walked quickly out the front door.

I burst into the kitchen. "Fantastic! Don't think he was ready for that one!"

"Let me wipe this shit up. What a mess. Gag! All down my leg. Geez." She wet some paper towels and began cleaning up. "Hefty, hefty wipes." she mumbled.

Doris opened the refrigerator. "Something cold to drink? Got some root beer."

"Great."

"Love these long neck bottles, you know." That gratuitous 'you know', everyone around here tosses that in. Means nothing. Her bottle was nearly empty as she popped the once opened cap off with her thumb, then opened mine with the bottle opener she pulled from the drawer. A big swig and hers was empty. She squeezed the empty bottle's neck between two fingers of the hand wrapped around her crutch handle and carried it with her to the living room.

She sat down on the sofa at the opposite end from me. "Make yourself comfortable." She shoved the neck of the bottle inside her pussy and began to work it in and out. She looked at me and turned her hips so she faced me. I had thought I understood the phrase, but this was a new definition for 'making yourself comfortable'.

As I watched her fuck herself with the bottle, my already heated pussy, almost began to smoke, I could feel flames about to break out. Juices were flooding from my pussy lips just enough to hold the flames back. "Have a towel I can sit on?"

"Never you mind. Cushions need cleaning anyway. May need to just lick them up myself."

I pulled my skirt up revealing my bald mound to Doris for the first time. The inside back of my skirt now damp, almost wet. My fingers dragged through my sopping wet pussy, pulling my overly large clit out into the open, and stroking it like a tiny cock.

"I wondered what you might look like. Couldn't quite see it in the bar that night."

"You like?"

"Oh my yes. Love to watch. Much nicer than touching. You know so much better how to please yourself."

She moaned, I moaned, ... we both yelled out as the soft warmth of our orgasms washed over us.

A car horn blew, then a second time, a friendly toot each time. I heard the garage door opener and the garage door rattle and bang as it begin to move.

"Come."

"Just did." I laughed. We laughed together.

Doris stood on the first step into the garage. I stood, almost leaning, against her back, my hands resting on her shoulders.

The couple in the car got out. They appeared to be in their 40's, always hard for me to tell. She was pretty average, not at all ugly though, he was nice looking, clean cut, not portly at all, neither at all 'buff'. Walking hand in hand, they stopped by the front of the car were we could see them. She was dressed in a short silk robe, a solid deep red, almost blood red. As he untied the belt and the robe opened, it was obvious that she had nothing on under it. The hair on her mound was light colored, short, barely there. He kissed her on the mouth as he covered her pussy with his hand before working his fingers inside her. She unfastened his belt, his pants, lowered his zipper, all slowly. My hand rested on my pussy as I watched. My leg could barely support me. I leaned over and bit gently into Doris's shoulder as I neared my first orgasm from the scene before me.

"Hot, isn't it?" Doris asked sensing my excitement.

"Ohhh" was about all I could manage for a moment. "It is." I finally got out. I looked over her shoulder, down her front, and saw she was fingering herself slowly, almost matching the pace of the action.

"Bob and Jane are very good." she said.

June looked at us as she lower herself until she was on her knees in front of Bob. His cock was hard, hard as a rock, long, thick, not unbelievably huge though. A pleasant prick. As if trained, it stood pointing straight out. She ran the side of it across her lips, her head on the opposite side from us so we could see. She seemed to be as turned on by the cock as by us watching. And Oh God was I turned on right now. I'm sure Doris was too.

Her tongue licked the underside as if to hold it up, to have it rest on her tongue so it would not fall. Her lips almost kissing the skin on the side of it, tenderly teasing, almost talking to it, 'you beautiful thing. soon you'll be in my mouth, in my cunt.' I could almost hear the words.

Not even needing to touch it, or hold it with her hands, she let her tongue begin to dance across the huge flat smooth purple head, engorged with blood, excited, wanting to be inside her lovely pussy. She was not ready for that, not even close. Her lips kissing, lightly sucking the very tip, drinking the fluid that was beginning to dribble out of it. Taking a few inches at a time, then retreating, then starting fresh, she took more and more of the firmness into her mouth, filling her mouth, stretching her cheeks, eventually a slight gag, another, then the whole cock in her mouth. As she let it slide almost completely out and then take it all back in, once, twice, a few more times, I could see the expression on Bob's face begin to change, to almost become pained, his eyes rolling back a little, his head tiling back, his mouth open, another stroke of her mouth. She was very good. His juices dripped from the corners of her mouth, her throat moved as she gulped it, his head moved forward, he groaned a final time, she released his cock from her mouth.

She said nothing, nor he, as she laid back on the cold concrete of the garage floor. His face covered her mound as he explored her with his long wide tongue. Soon it was buried deep inside her, licking up her juices. With his tongue, he pulled her clit from its hiding place, and began to suck it, squeeze it between his lips, his teeth, nibble on it. She moaned, gasped, begged him to continue. As she started her orgasm, I started my third. We kept pace and finished together.

His cock was now refreshed, erect, and ready to serve her with more pleasure. Her legs lay wide apart, almost ready to break off, her pussy begging to be filled with its warm smooth flesh. He lay, not quite on her, his hands holding his upper body away from her, his waist and hips just over hers, the tip of his cock teasing the opening to her pussy, almost touching it, then beginning to press its way inside. She gasped loudly.

The hot breeze blew gently through the still opened garage door, barely matching the heat rising off my body, off all of our bodies, beads of perspiration everywhere. Doris and I continued to finger ourselves as we watch the live sex show unfolding, nearly over, before us. The frenzied pounding of our hands against ourselves providing the music, the drum beat, driving Bob and June to even greater heights. Never did Doris or I replace our hands with the others knowing we preferred to pleasure, to fuck, to make ourself cum to our own beat, our own tune, our own rhythm.

Finished, Bob and June, dressed and drove away, having never said anything to us.

Exhausted, I dragged myself to the door, thanked Doris for a wonderful day, promising her we would do it again, and drove away.