I'm Born This Way

I also have my own needs of course. I'm waiting for a man who knows what he wants, who is honest and sincere and who likes me the way I am, not despite or because of my disability. I want to be touched by tender hands, feel sensitive fingers on my skin, slowly and sensitively, carefully. I want a man who knows what I want, who takes my hands and caress him as if it were me. Who holds my head when I want to kiss him?

I don't need someone, I can do it by myself. Yes, I can play with myself, I can masturbate. It's not easy of course, and it takes some time, but I can really do it alone when I'm in bed. The fist part is easy: To roll me on by back and to push the blanket away. Easy for my good leg. The most challenging part is to get my left arm to the inner side of my left leg. This takes a while, my arm fidgets everywhere but not where I want it to be. But then, with some luck, I can pull up my leg and catch my arm. Now I try to straighten this arm and finally my hand stays next to my good foot and I can open this hand widely with my foot. After that I need time and luck again. I have to catch hold of my right arm. The arm fidgets, my good leg pushes it until I can hold on my right wrist.

Now it's almost done, both arms wriggle around, but my good leg pushes my right hand to my pussy. My fingers are moving somehow, but one or two are always straight enough for my hole. I straighten my right hand as far as I can, let my fingers slip in and let my hand twist inwards again, pushing the fingers deep into my hole. At least I pull up my right leg and clamp my right arm with it. Even though my arms are now restless again, the hand cannot move away, my fingers stay inside me and move on their own.

I'm wet, I feel it, I feel my wet desire on my fingers. I'd like to be able to smell my lust, to caress my breasts by myself and play with my wet fingers on my nipples. Impossible, of course. I can't straighten my right leg to free my arm and even if I could straighten it I could never get my hands to my breasts.

My fingers are moving inside me, slowly, gently, sometimes touching my clit. I enjoy it, my fingers are working gentle and tender in me, everywhere, at my clit, I enjoy this imagination to have to wait to be touched there, but not being able to do it by myself. I'm so excited, my loving fingers take me with them. Finally, I'm ready, my orgasm comes like an explosion. I love my gentle fingers which can be so tender, even if they are terribly twisted, yes, even if they have their own life and do whatever they want, they are my fingers, they belong to my body, but not to me.

My orgasm fades away slowly, but my fingers continue, unstoppable, continue to stroke me, to caress the diamond in me. I just let it happen, couldn't change it anyway. As long as my right leg does not stretch straight again, my fingers stay in me and play their game with me.

Once it did not work, I pulled my leg up, but my fingers failed to enter me. And my leg didn't straighten the whole night and Paula found me this way the next morning. I cried with frustration and shame and could not calm down at all. Of course, Paula knew immediately what is wrong with me and how to help me. She lay down next to me on my bed, took me in her arms, turned me to her and gently caressed me. When I got calmer and could enjoy it, she began to caress my breasts.

I love Paula's hands, I love how she caresses my breasts, I love how her slender fingers tenderly fondling my nipples. I'll get wet when she takes my hands, caresses me with my own hands; an indescribable feeling to be caressed with my own hands but knowing that it's not me moving my hands. I can even play with me by myself if she puts my twisted finger on my nipples. I can hardly wait until she takes my hand and push the straightest of my bent fingers into my wet pussy. My fingers will do their work alone and find my diamond. But Paula always does it as I like it, very slowly and very tender. She takes my hand out again, lets me smell my wetness, caresses my breasts again and lets me play with my nipples again. I smell my wet lust on my breasts, on my nipples. Now Paula pushes my fingers deep into me again, to the right place and holds my hand until I explode.

I love Paula's hands and my hands. Yes, even my hands and my twisted fingers. I can't do anything with them, can't use them for anything, but they are gentle and sensitive by themselves.

I met Max when he stepped in for another assistant. It took 10 seconds to fall in love with him when I saw him the first time. Max is tall, muscular, breath-taking. He has wonderful eyes, deep blue and sparkling when he laughs. And he laughs quite often. I'm lost in his eyes, can't see anything else. And he has a dreamlike voice, gentle and lively. I could listen to him for hours, it doesn't matter what he says.

After a few days later I could hardly wait for him in the morning to get me ready, wait for him to wipe out my eyes, to take off my nightgown, his hands touching me here and there, looking at me as I'm naked now and smiling. I'm always waiting for a hint that he enjoys it. But no, nothing, he cares for me, this is the work he's paid for, nothing else. Anyway, I love being held in his strong arms when he carries me to the bathroom, my head secured at his shoulder. I love his masculine smell, I love all of him. I'm going crazy in his arms and I get goose bumps where he touches me. I feel tremendous good in his hands.

I tried not to think about him, but I can't. I started to dream of him, dreaming about his hands on me, washing and cleaning me, holding me gentle but strong, holding my head and assuring that my bad leg will not kick me out of my chair. And I dream that I can touch him, caress him, my hands at him where I want and my finger doing what I want. I don't really want other hands, I'm fine with the ones I have, even though I can't use them by myself. My hands are not useless, everyone else can take and make use of them. But now I want to pet him, to touch his dick and fondle it. I want to feel him, to touch him and to pet him, I want to feel his hands on me, everywhere, I want to feel him in me. I need him so much.

Sometimes my nipples were hard when I awoke from this dream, and I was sure that I was wet too. I don't know because I can't touch myself to feel my wetness. Luckily I was already back on earth for some time when he arrived.

One day Max noticed it. I wasn't quite awake yet and this dream was still very lively. Max removed the sheet and undressed me. My nipples were hard and upright, lusted for a touch, caress, waiting for a hand to fondle. I could smell my wetness immediately. I was embarrassed to be seen that way, no longer as someone to care for, someone who needs assistance for everything, but as a woman with all feminine needs and desires. I blushed knowing that he knows, that he has seen me this way, naked and full of desire. But he continued his work as every day, lifted me up and carried me to the bathroom. I couldn't help to moan a little as he touched me and held me in his strong arms. I was upset and ashamed, my arms and legs were beating around wildly, I couldn't help to kick and hit him. He put me on the toilette chair and need to unhand my head as he fixed my arms. Of course my head toppled forward against him, and I was in heaven at once. He was interested in me, I could feel it, my head toppled against a large bulge in his trousers.

At the end of this shift he told me that he can't go on caring me and that he will cancel this jobs at once.

I had a terrible night. I couldn't sleep, thought of him the whole night, dreamed of him again. Again I was hard and wet when I awoke. I need him so much, I love him so much. Most of the day I was sobbing like a child.

Next day he was back. I couldn't believe it when he came in. Dressed in his best suit, looking elegant, formally and honest. A pale blue skirt, a perfect matching tie and a bunch of flowers in his hand. I'd never seen him like this. He said nothing, put the flowers in my lap, took my hands, bend down to me and kissed me. I had tears in my eyes.

Then he asked me for my hand. I couldn't answer, couldn't say anything, but cried with happiness.

Now I wake up in the morning, and I'm in Max arms, my hands are not tied as Max holds them. I'm in heaven, I'm a full-fledged woman and I feel like a full-fledged woman. Max shows me every day that I'm beautiful and attractive, and that he loves me. He takes my hands when I want to feel him, holds my head when I want to kiss him, and he carries me wherever I want. I don't need my hands or my legs, Max hands are my hands and Max legs are my legs.

We married half a year later, and I got pregnant last year giving birth to a little girl. She's the perfect fulfillment of our dreams, our angle, lovely, curly blond, always in good mood and laughing.