Room for Rent

"Maybe three," I reply, pulling a chair out from the table. I lay the crutches on the floor as I sit and they poke against his foot. I reposition the crutches and they bang against his.

"Too many sticks," he teases.

"Sam...." I look at him as he smears the pancakes on the fork though a puddle of syrup then takes a bite. His eyes lock on mine as he chews. "Sam, the other day you said something about me not having legs. Were you serious? I mean ... your house isn't set up for a wheelchair."

"We got a ramp out in the garage. Tara used it for her wheelchair. We could always put it in place again."

"Tara?" I say; the puzzled expression plastered over my face.

Rachel puts a plate of pancakes in front of me and refills his cup then mine. "Goodness, yes. She wasn't like us, just happy having one leg gone. She had to have both off, way high up ... to the hip. She was a fine looking woman with or without clothes. She makes my heart skip a beat, that's for sure. She pretended with just one leg off some, but her heart told her both was the desire."

"She's so-o sexy naked," Sam mumbles, as he chews.

I mind races with the new information. I had understood Tara was like them, missing just one leg. Now I knew why Sam had said those things to me. I pictured Tara lying across that desk, her legless hips ready to receive Sam's tool in one hole or the other. My cunt fills with nectar as I think.

"She was in her twenties when it all started coming together," Rachel explains. She puts her plate of pancakes down then sits. "That was 'bout the time we all got closer."

My mouth must have dangled open for a while and he notices, then she does.

"She almost sucked my tongue out of my mouth one weekend when she was about twenty-two. She'd come back from a weeklong trip with a girl and some guy a little older. Anyway, after that ... well, the three of us were, how you say, nice an cozy."

"Your daughter?"

"She was old 'nough," Rachel says matter of factly, chewing her food. "Its not like we forced her." She took another bite without looking up. "Sweet pussy, too ... like yours."

"Not a problem for me, not at all," I say as I push the empty plate away a few inches. I hold the cup in both hands and sip, never putting it down for several more. "No legs ... none? At the hip." The words, questions, and thoughts just spill from my lips.

"Whatever doc she finds for you would be happy to do that for you," Sam says.

"Oh ... my." I stammer as the reality of what he said washes over me like a waterfall. I had always felt I would be lucky to lose just one leg, either leg, and that actually losing them both would be a dream never realized. "Oh ... my."

"There's a wheelchair out in the garage next to the ramp," Rachel says after she swallows the last bite of pancake. "Nothing fancy like the one Tara has now, mind you."

I stand and pace the kitchen a few times using my crutches. "It's what I used to dream about...." I pause, hesitating to say more. "I became content just thinking one leg would be more than I'd be lucky to lose." I pace a while longer then go outside.

-

For the remainder of the weekend, other than a few brief moments, my leg remains bound and I use the crutches to move about. I struggle with my feelings, trying to convince myself that having just one leg would be enough of a change, that having both legs gone would be too radical.

I lose track of the number of times one or both of them take me to the top of an orgasmic mountain or that I do the same for them. I know it is a large number, whatever it is.

Monday morning, I again wake, exhausted and sore in tender places. I am alone and I hear dishes moving about in the kitchen. Still bound from the night before, my foot and part of my leg is numb. I gather the crutches under my arms then make my way, clothed only in a long t-shirt, to the source of the noise that awakened me.

"Morning," I say, my mouth not quite able to say more now.

"You were a wild woman," Rachel teases, dropping another glob of pancake batter on the large griddle. "What'd you be like without legs?"

"She'd give Tara a run for the money." Sam laughs at the image of a woman without any legs running.

"Yeah, I'd like that kind of competition." I join Sam in the laughter. "Too bad she's on the other side of the country."

"Oh, she promised to visit over Thanksgiving," Rachel says, putting a plate in front of Sam. "Ya think the four of us will fit in one bed?" She pours more coffee in his cup.

"Darling," he begins, his eyes looking at me over the cup. "We're short on beds, you know, hope it'll be okay if she bunks with you."

-

I stagger across campus to my first class of the day, the weight of my book bag pulling one shoulder lower than the other one. I settle into a chair on the main level of the auditorium and glance around at the twenty rows of seats on the inclined area behind me. Most of the seats filled and I open my laptop in preparation to take notes. A woman moves past me and out of the corner of my eyes, I notice a pair of crutches she is using. Strangely, I pay no more attention as the login dialog appears on the screen. Just as I click a button, the instructor drops his notes heavily on the lectern and begins speaking. I type as quickly as I can while paying attention to the lecture. The woman on crutches vanishes from my memory.

Several timers beep throughout the auditorium as the end of the class draws near. The instructor announces the reading for the next class and exits while everyone gathers their books and close down their computers.

Several buildings away I remember the woman with the crutches. In my mind, I kick myself as I remember her. Soon, I'm in another class with another instructor, words spilling through the air, and everyone typing as quickly as possible.

The drive home is uneventful, almost peaceful, and I consider my future life. For a while, I picture myself crutching from the parking lot to class. I've driven from campus to home enough that my driving is on autopilot. I stop at the four-way stop a few miles out of town, and then shift my thoughts to being in a wheelchair and rolling across campus. I drive on.

A truck blows its horn several times behind me. I realize I am going slower than the speed limit. I speed up and politely wave my hand out the window. He gives me a friendly toot as he passes.

-

After I deposit my books on my desk, I change and bind my leg up, preferring to go about on crutches until the next morning. I have several skirts that allow me to be dressed without my leg or my foot making it obvious it is still a part of me.

"We got a call from Tara," Rachel tells me as I make my way into the living room. "She's coming for Thanksgiving."

"You said she was," I reply, and then drop hard onto a cushion of the couch. I plop my lone foot onto the low table just in front of it. I watch as my foot wags from side to side. "Did she say anything 'bout...?"

"Nah. She's sent off some e-mail to a few of her contacts."

"It's hard to know it might be possible, and not know at the same time."

"Well, she'll find someone. We just don't know when."

"I saw someone on crutches today ... I think. I didn't see why. I was so busy with things, I even forgot after class to look for her. I don't remember seeing her on crutches before."

"Maybe a sprained ankle."

"Maybe a sore stump and she couldn't wear her prosthetic leg," I say, my voice disgusted and my arms crossed tightly.

-

Thursday I only have one class, the one I had on Monday where I thought I saw a woman on crutches. I make my way across campus from the parking lot trying to get there early so I can carefully watch for her. My book bag has the one book and my laptop. After class, I plan to spend the rest of the morning at the library gathering material for a paper due in a few weeks.

Though there are several doors into the large auditorium, most people file through the main double doors. I take a seat with a good view of that door and open my laptop. My eyes remain glued on each person as they move into the room.

I see her. She is missing her right leg. The woman is attractive, not a knock out, but easy on the eyes even if she had both legs. The plain black skirt hangs just below the knees so I can't tell how much leg is missing.

I smile and point at the empty seat next to me. "Hi," I say, in case she hasn't noticed me.

"Thanks, it's nice to be closer to the door," she says as she sits. "Monday I was late and I had to sit way over there." She points to the other side of the room as she crosses the whole leg over the missing one that now appears to end just above the knee. "I'm Katlin." She extends a hand and I take it, telling her my name.

I take in her appearance, the blue eyes, the pale and perfect skin, and the black hair ending near her shoulders.

"Great class," I say, not knowing what else to say now.

"Yeah. My lightest day, only this class." She takes out a legal note pad and a pen in preparation for the class.

"You walk well, on your crutches."

"Uh-huh. It's only been since early summer. I've about figured out how to do everything on one leg." She chuckles. "It's not so bad." Her leg remains crossed over the long stump, the foot swings casually back and forth with the shoe flipping softly against the heal of the foot.

I look around and the auditorium is mostly full. I glance at my watch and realize we only have a few more minutes before the instructor walks in.

I look at Katlin and say, "I missed breakfast this morning, want to join me after class ... maybe at the student center?"

"My tummy is rumbling. That would be great, I'd like to get to know you."

The instructor walks quickly to the lectern and begins speaking as he puts his material down firmly.

I type and listen, but my eyes dwell mostly on the way her leg drapes over the long stump and the tall aluminum crutches on the floor beside her chair. The foot continues to swing occasionally. She seems at ease having just one leg. I ponder what might have happened and how to find out more about her.

As quick as he started the lecture, he ends and storms out the door. I close my laptop and put things in my bag, wondering what his huff was about, if it might have something to do with a woman with one leg sitting in the front row.

"Nice laptop," she says, putting her things in a briefcase with a strap that she hangs over a shoulder.

"Yeah, saves on hand cramps." I laugh and watch her shove the crutches under her arms.

"Still up for some food?" she asks. A smile covers her face as she looks at me.

"Big time." I rest a hand over my stomach and sling the book bag over my shoulder with the other hand.

She looks down and smoothes a wrinkle out of her skirt with a swish of a hand. I walk along side her at the back of the rush of people leaving the room. We say little until we are outside and crossing the quad to the student center.

"I live south of town," she says. "I work at my father's doctor office a few days a week."

The word 'doctor' causes my attention to focus like an arrow leaving the bow.

"Wow, that must be interesting."

"I like it. He's a vascular surgeon." She glances down at the space where her leg used to be for the next step, and then looks at me. "He does amputations."

"Yours?" I quiz.

"Uh-huh. It's a strange story, maybe once we know each other better, I can tell you."

"Sure, when you're ready. I know it can be difficult."

"Difficult? No, not having the leg is not difficult."

I hold the door open and she walks past me. We move through the food line in partial silence. I offer that she should put her plate on the tray with my food, that I'll carry it. She agrees. She pays for both orders.

A table by the windows becomes free and we sit facing each other. She leans her crutches against the wall at the edge of the window and adjusts herself in the seat. I notice she crosses the leg over the stump as she had in class.

"Interesting how you do that," I say.

"It feels comfortable."

"I live with a couple north of town. They both are missing a leg."

"Really?"

"Yeah-h," I drawl, my eyes looking down as I put pepper on my eggs. "I'd just gotten into town and found an ad for a room to rent. Something about 'peaceful wooded location' that caught my attention." I laugh.

She turns slightly in the chair and I watch more clearly as the foot swings.

"Both of them?"

"Uh-huh. They are-e amazing."

"The same leg?"

"No. Hers stump is a little longer than his is. They both just use crutches."

"Nice how some amputees find each other."

"Well, this happened after they had been married for a long time."

"Did they have an accident?"

I take a bite of egg and chew slowly as I consider what to say next. I lower the fork to the plate.

"You know how you said losing your leg was a strange story. Well, their story is 'strange'."

She looks at me as I speak then sips her coffee. "Some people just need to be missing a leg."

I smile. "Is that what happened to you?"

She nods a few times in silence, still holding the cup near her mouth. After a long moment, she smiles, but says nothing.

"I have a secret of my own." I take a bite of my toast and chew for a second. I lean closer to her then whisper, "I want to have my left leg off. I always have." I sit up again and sip some coffee.

"Our meeting seems fortuitous." She smiles as if pleased for using a big word.

"I do hope so."

She looks around to see how many people are sitting at neighboring tables. "Listen, this is something I can't talk about here."

"Oh, I do-o understand. Where can we talk?"

"I'm parked out in lot six. It's not far. Let's go and talk in my car."

I stack the empty plates on the tray and bus things to the trash not far from the table.

She stands comfortably beside me and her hand rubs my back a few times. "This is exciting. I've never known someone that feels this way."

The car doors remain open as the sun infused heat drains. She sits and the skirt lies above the end of the stump. I take advantage of the view. She notices and cups her hand over the end then rubs it firmly.

"Neat, isn't it?" she coos. Before I can respond, she pulls the stump towards her mouth and pecks kisses across the end. "I love to do that. I don't know why any more than I understand why I love having one leg."

"Yeah, cool."

"So you want to have your leg off. How much do you want off?"

"Almost all of the left leg. I like the look of a nicely rounded hip." I chuckle. "I was close to, ah, lived with a woman for years ... she was missing her leg that way. Oh, not because she wanted to be, but she 'was' comfortable not having the leg."

"It's okay, I've had both girl and boy friends. Did she know about your feelings?"

"Uh-huh." I snicker. "I used to pretend around the house. She didn't mind."

The stump still rests against her chest. She leans down and kisses it. I watch, trying to control the raging jealousy flooding my body.

"You said your father is a vascular surgeon...." I find myself incapable of finishing the question. I don't know why.

"Yeah, the long story that I have trouble talking about." She laughs. "Listen, can I have your word that this will be kept a secret?"

I nod a few times. "Of course." I hold three fingers up. "Scouts honor."

"Any chance that the couple you live with can find a doc for you?"

"They're searching, but nothing so far. The one that did theirs is no long doing elective amputations. I didn't mention it before, but since we telling secrets." I laugh. I've gotten 'very' close to them."

"Close ... as in lovers?"

I nod and grin.

"I live with Dad ... just the two of us. Mom left when I first told her I wanted my leg off. He and I have a 'close' relationship now. He has a 'thing' for female amputees. I guess I do as well; just I also wanted to be one too. I'm my own 'devotee'." She laughs.

"You just came out one day and told her?"

"I did. I couldn't stand it any longer. I had my collection of pictures of amputees and spent hours masturbating while staring at them. I was working part time at Dad's office and occasionally an amputee would pass through. I would be a wreck for days after seeing him or her."

"Did you talk to your father about any of this?"

"Oh yeah-h," she drawls. "He told me of his interest in amputees and how that was part of the reason for being a vascular surgeon. He loves doing amputations."

"Had he done any elective ones?"

"Other than mine, a few. He was afraid of losing his license. He met a doc south of the border and together they would 'do them'." She snickers. "Like I said, Mom left, divorced, and never spoke to either of us after she caught wind of our mutual feelings. It didn't take long for us to become lovers."

"Wow, that is so-o great."

She lowers the stump and pushes the skirt over it. I watch in silence for a while.

"Can he help me?" I ask.

"Let me talk to him tonight. I can't promise anything ... understand?"

"Sure. Do you want to call me?"

"I'll see you in class on Monday."

"That's an eternity." I frown.

"I know. You've waited a lifetime already. What are a few more days?"

"I suppose you are right." I continue to frown.

"Hey, if I get him to agree, I'll call."

I give her my phone number and she scribbles it on a scrap of paper then pushes it into her bag.

-

The hours in the library are a waste of time. I'm unable to concentrate on any of the volumes as I read their pages. All of my thoughts are devoted to Katlin and her father. I picture her making love to her father and think about how nice it is being with Sam. I wonder of the girl friends she mentioned, how many there were and did they know about her love of stumps.

I abandon my research in the early afternoon and make my way towards the lot where I parked. I hear a woman yell something that sounds like a greeting. I look around, eventually I see Katlin walking towards the library. I wave my hand high in the air and walk quickly towards her.

"How wonderful to see you again," she says, stopping in front of me.

"I struggled to get some material for a paper that's due in a few weeks. You're all I could think about."

"That's sweet. I feel the same way. Listen, I called Dad. He's willing to speak with you. Can you have dinner with us tonight?"

"Wow!" I exclaim, louder than expected. "Sure. There's nothing more important to me."

She hands me a printed page with a map and an address. "About six?" I look at the map. "It's an hour south of here," she says. I watch as she crutches away and picture myself doing the same for the rest of my life. It feels good and peaceful warmth soothes me.

-

I notice the house is quite large as I park my car in the driveway behind Katlin's car.

A tall, slim man opens the door and smiles. "You must be Zoe," he says. "I'm Robert, Katlin's father." He shakes my hand a few pumps then lets go. I let my eyes roam over him and notice how the casual khaki slacks and black polo shirt give him a handsome, yet distinguished, appearance. "Come in. I don't think she's talked about anything other than you since I got home." He laughs.

Katlin makes her way from the hallway wearing a short black skirt revealing the long stump. A loose fitting white blouse, unbuttoned slightly, reveals a pleasing amount of cleavage.

"Hey darling," she says, throwing her arms around me and pecking a kiss at my cheek. "Isn't he a dream?" She waves a hand towards her father.

"Hardly," he modestly says. "She's the dream."

"Maybe someday, I'll be as dreamy," I mumble, taking a step back.

"Can I get you something ... beer, wine, ... cola?" he asks, dodging my remark.

"A beer sounds particularly good. It's hot out there."

She and I stand for a moment and I watch her watching him as he vanishes into the kitchen. "I see why you fell for him." I squeeze her hand. "Lucky you."