The Seduction: A Narrative from Ms. Gimply's Collection

I was determined to seduce my husband. We had been married for nearly a year now. It was the second for both of us. I was divorced and support from my ex was sporadic and unreliable. But especially my teenage daughter needed emotional support and a stable home life. He had provided it.

His two preteen kids needed a woman in their home to begin to compensate for their mother who had died. He was lost being single and needed someone, too.

He was a really sweet man. We did genuinely love each other. I never doubted that and I believe that he never had second thoughts about our marriage.

The problem was that our sex life was perfunctory and unimaginative. We always made love with the lights out and after I had removed my leg braces and put them and my crutches out of sight. We would assume the missionary position and he was always sure that I had had an orgasm before he allowed himself to climax. Then he would roll off me and we -- or at least he -- would go to sleep.

I had raised the issue of my disability before we were engaged. He had said that it didn't bother him and then we changed the subject. We never had confronted it directly. This was the same trap that my first marriage had fallen into. I didn't want to relive it.

I had been deprived long enough. I wanted sex that was raucus and bawdy. I wanted him to see and to feel all of me -- legs that didn't work, steel braces and all. I was falling into the old pattern of trying to satisfy myself in odd moments alone. It was not enough.

That was how I found myself sitting on a bench outside the big mall in the city and dressed like a prostitute. I was waiting for him to come and pick me up.

I had come to the city with him that morning. He was here for a presentation to a prospective client. I had come along on the pretext that I wanted to shop at the mall. I had accompanied him dressed in baggy slacks and a full cotton sweater. I believe he had no clue about what was underneath.

I had spent a long time dressing that morning. I selected thong underwear and a pushup bra that he had never seen. I put on black fishnet panty hose and my new knee high boots that laced their whole length. The boots had as much heel as I could safely manage. My braces attached to the heels of the boots and rose to my thighs. My blouse was sheer and sleeveless and low cut. A very short skirt completed the outfit. The slacks and sweater covered all this except for the unusually high heels. He didn't seem to notice the boots in his concentration on his forthcoming presentation.

Now it was the agreed time to meet me outside the mall. I had toured the stores on a rented scooter but hadn't bought anything. When it was nearly time for him to come for me, I returned the scooter and went to the women's room. There I removed slacks and sweater and put them into my shoulder bag. I adjusted my makeup. People stared as I made my way outside to the place we had agreed to meet. I felt naked and a bit ashamed but I was thrilled by their stares all the same. I was happy that I was unlikely to be seen by anyone that knew me.

I sat on the bench in the late afternoon sun and within a minute of the appointed time I saw our car drive into the parking lot and head in my direction. I was assured by his unfailing dependability but at the same time I was rebelling at the boredom of it.

I lifted myself to my feet and carefully locked my braces. I walked to meet the car at the curb just as it arrived. I saw his startled expression through the window. He started to open the door but I put a crutch in the way and signalled for him to roll down the window.

I leaned over and asked "Do you want to party, Mister?"

For a moment he looked dumbfounded. But then his gaze hardened and he said "How much?"

I had him in the game and I was thrilled. At the same time I was panicking because I hadn't anticipated an actual dollar amount. I made up a number and trying to sound nonchalant, I said "Fifty dollars?"

He stared at me long and hard. His eyes went up and down. He made me feel even more naked than I was. Finally, he said "That's a lot of money for a gimpy whore."

The ball was in my court and I countered "I will do anything you want, Mister, and I know I can make you feel good."

"Get in," he said and nodded his head toward the passenger side. I made my way around the front of the car to the other side. Usually, he would come round and open the door for me like the consumate gentleman. Now he didn't make a move in that direction. We were thoroughly immersed in the game now.

I stowed my crutches on the floor of the back seat and lowered myself into the front. I unlocked the knees of my braces and gathered my legs into the car.

Without saying anything, he put the car in gear and drove onto the highway. I didn't say anything either. I didn't want to break the spell of the game. I had no idea of what was coming next. I was thrilled that he was in charge, now, and was taking us on some kind of adventure.

A few miles down the road he abruptly turned of the road into a shabby strip mall. "I'm coming," he said and disappeared in the direction of a liquor store. He returned with a small brown paper bag in his hand.

We took off down the highway again. In a few miles he pulled off abruptly again. Now it was at a motel. He went into the office and shortly reappeared with a key in his hand. He drove us around to the back and pulled up in front of a door. "Come in," he said and left to open the door. I opened the car door and swung my legs outside. I locked my braces and retrieved my crutches. I lifted myself to my feet and followed him inside.

I was relieved to find that the room was clean and not nearly as tawdry as the exterior promised. I sat on the bed and unlocked my braces. I still didn't know what to expect, but I was thrilled that the game was still going on.

He took a half pint of scotch whisky from the paper bag and poured two stiff drinks into plastic cups from the bathroom. He swallowed his in one gulp and indicated that I should do the same. I did, although I almost gagged on it. The alcohol warmed me and made me giddy.

He poured two more and we repeated. By then I was dizzy and hot. "What do you want me to do, Mister?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound sultry.

He sat in a chair some distance away from me. He had removed his suit coat and flung it casually on another chair. I watched as he unbuttoned his trousers and unzipped his fly. Then he slipped his trousers and shorts down. My arousal swelled at the sight of his erect penis. "Come here," he said. "I want you to suck me." Now the game had exceeded my wildest expectations.

I began to lock my braces. "No," he said, "I want you to come here on your knees." I wondered if the game had gone too far.

"No," I said to myself, "This was my idea and I want to follow it where it goes." I slipped onto the floor and pulled my way to him. I massaged him into an even firmer erection and then began to run my tongue up and down its length. Then slowly, very slowly, I took the engorged tip into my mouth and teased him with my tongue. I felt and tasted the little drops that he exuded. I felt my own moisture flowing freely as well.

Just as I thought he was about to reach a climax, he pulled away. He reached underneath my arms and abruptly lifted me to my feet. I thrilled to his strength which I had suspected was there but had never really felt. He was not rough but there was not even a hint of gentleness in his touch.

My body seemed to melt as I anticipated that he would carry me to the bed. Instead he took me to the table and sat me on the edge. As he did, he pulled my skirt to my waist and he pushed me backward to lie there. He pulled my hose and my panties down past my hips to meet the straps of my braces. He lifted my legs and put my boots on his shoulders. He circled my legs with his arms. I almost laughed out loud at the incongruity of his still neatly knotted necktie framed between my braced legs.

I grabbed the edges of the table as he entered me and began to rock in and out. I watched his face grow red and it seemed that he was in another world. I could tell that his orgasm was coming. I let go of the table and clasped my arms aroung my legs and squeezed. I watched the steel of my braces push into the flesh of his neck and I began to moan.

I gathered up all the control I could muster and said in a sultry voice, "So what's it like making it with a cripple, Mister?" As my words came, my arousal peaked.

"It's like --," he stammered, "It's like -- It's like fucking a bear trap!" He exploded into me. I writhed in extasy.

Both of us kept on moving in and out, reluctant to stop. As we began to slow and to retrieve our breath he began to go through contortions. I figured out that he was trying to retrieve his trousers at the end of the suspenders that he still wore. When he did, he pulled his billfold from a pocket. He was still inside me but not very hard. I felt him swell as he extracted some stiff new bills and folded them twice.

He pulled down the top of my skimpy blouse and slowly tucked the bills into my bra. As he did, he said. "If you ever get tired of life on the street, look me up. We might be able to arrange something." Then the sharp edges of the crisp bills drove into my nipple and I shreiked with the sharpest and most abrupt orgasm that I had ever had.

It was a long time before either of said anything. I gradually awakened from the world of unalloyed pleasure of the game. The real and present world slowly dawned. I was flat on my back on a table with my legs up in the air. It wasn't comfortable.

"George," I said, softly, "Please get me up from this silly table." He grinned sheepishly and then very gently put his hands under my shoulders and lifted. He helped me to lock my braces (I was surprized that he knew how) and retrieved my crutches. Then he put his clothes in order. As I headed to the bathroom to arrange myself I said, "Please get my big bag from the car. And bring your cellphone so that we can call the children. I'll tell them that we're running a bit late and that we'll bring pizza for supper."

As he headed out the door, he called back over his shoulder, "You'll have to buy the pizza. I've just spent all my money." As the door closed behind him, I felt more little aftershocks of orgasm.