by Robert N.
The cane was the first thing I noticed as I approached the checkout stand in our local supermarket. It was hanging from the handle of her shopping cart as she unloaded the groceries onto the counter.
Instinctively, I looked down at her legs. She was wearing tailored slacks and low-heeled, brown shoes. I glimpsed at what I thought was a metal stirrup attached to the heel of her right shoe. Was this a figment of my imagination or was it the real thing? As she leaned forward to take items from her shopping cart, the legs of her slacks tightened, and I was able to see clearly the outline of a metal caliper extending the full length of her right leg.
She was wearing a short-sleeved, white summer blouse, buttoned part way down the front and tucked in at the waist, accentuating her ample breasts, her slim waist and rounded hips. Standing behind her in the line-up, I was close enough to inhale the sweet, clean fragrance of her femininity. With her long, dark brown hair, tied in a ponytail, she was the picture of summer bliss. She must have become aware of my close proximity to her as she unloaded the last of her groceries and with a self-assured look, she turned and gave me the warmest smile. I responded in kind and muttered something about it being a very pleasant day.
Paying for her groceries, I heard her ask the clerk if there was a telephone handy to call a cab. The clerk indicated that she could use the telephone at the customer service counter. Taking hold of the shopping cart handle with both hands, the young woman thanked the grocery clerk and headed toward the customer service counter. I was entranced as she proceeded across the floor swinging her braced right leg in a type of elliptical arc. Because she was holding onto the handle of the shopping cart, her limp was not too severe, despite the fact that the brace was holding her leg straight and quite stiff.
As I approached the checkout, the clerk said something about her being out of luck if she was hoping to get a taxi in a hurry. Apparently, there was a large convention going on in town and there was up to a one-hour wait for taxi service from the shopping mall.
I paid for my own groceries and walked past the customer service counter just as the young woman hung up the telephone looking somewhat dejected. I let her know what the checkout clerk had told me and she said that she had just found out the same thing from the taxi company and wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do. Thrilled by this turn of events, I let her know that I had my car in the parking lot and that I would be delighted to drop her off at her home. She hesitated for a moment, saying she did not want to take me out of my way, but then agreed to let me drive her home when I assured her that she was not putting me out. She suggested I put my bag of groceries into her cart and we left the store together.
Walking beside her as she limped across the parking lot to my car, I became aware of how quickly I had become aroused by this beautiful young, crippled woman. She was the kind of woman who would have turned my head under any circumstances, but the fact that she was wearing a legbrace did things to me that took me by surprise. My mind was in a whirl and we reached my car before I realized that we had only exchanged a few pleasantries.
I unloaded the shopping cart into the trunk of my car after she had retrieved her cane, then quickly went around to open her door. I deliberately held the door open so that I could see how she maneuvered into the front passenger seat. Putting her cane inside the car, she backed onto the seat so that her braced, right leg stuck straight out. Reaching down, she released the knee hinge lock and lowered her foot to the ground. With a shuffle, she swung her good left leg into the car, then placing both hands behind her right knee, brought her braced leg in along side of it. I complimented her on the ease with which she accomplished this task and she smiled demurely, saying she had done it many times.
Before leaving the parking lot, we introduced ourselves. Sharon explained that she had just moved into a new townhouse complex, which happened to be enroute to my house. I still couldn’t believe my good fortune in meeting such a delightful creature. It was as if I had walked into a fantasy. How often does one see, let alone meet, a good-looking woman wearing a full-length legbrace? As we drove toward her house I kept glancing down at her right leg and could see the distinct outline of the knee hinge and kneepad pushing against her slacks. She must have caught my furtive glances and asked me if I was curious about her leg. I was amazed at her openness and apologized for any indiscretion; she assured me that she was used to being asked why she wore a legbrace and said that it did not embarrass her. I admitted that I was indeed curious.
It transpired that Sharon had been involved in an automobile accident two years earlier, which had taken the life of her husband of three years, and caused severe nerve damage to her lower extremities. A lengthy stay in hospital, followed by physiotherapy had helped with the healing process, but the doctors told her they had done all they could for her right leg. The damage was such that she would have to wear a full-length legbrace permanently. She had been quite athletic before the accident and her fine muscle tone had helped in the healing process. Because there was no cure for the nerve damage Sharon had sustained, her right leg would be forever confined to the metal and leather support structure. She seemed resigned to this situation and displayed a wonderful, self-confident attitude.
We arrived at her address and she waited until I went around to open the passenger door. (This lady was obviously used to having courtesy extended to her and I loved it.) It gave me an opportunity to see how she got out of the car. With the door open, Sharon lifted her right leg, again using both hands behind her knee, and placed her foot on the ground. Her left leg followed easily and placing my hand under her right elbow, I was able to assist her into a standing position. As she straightened her right leg, I heard the click of the knee hinge locks as they snapped into place. To retrieve her cane from the car, she had to lean slightly forward. Her slacks tightened around her hips and I realized that she was not wearing panties. The well-defined outline of the thigh support at the top of the two unrelenting, parallel bars running the full length of her crippled leg, once more created a fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach and a heart-racing sensation.
With the aid of her cane, Sharon turned and moved toward the rear of the car, allowing me to close the door and watch as she swung her stiff, right leg in that now familiar elliptical arc. Opening the trunk lid, I offered to carry the three grocery bags for her. She seemed pleased and led the way across the driveway to her front door. There were two steps leading up to a small landing in front of the door with a handrail on one side. Grabbing the handrail, Sharon placed her left foot on the first step, and then swung her braced right leg next to it. She repeated the procedure on the next step, then moved toward the door and unlocked it.
Sharon directed me to the kitchen where I placed the grocery bags on the island counter. The townhouse was furnished tastefully, in a feminine sort of a way, reflecting her self-assured, light-hearted personality. What a joy it was to be in such pleasant surroundings with this warm and attractive, handicapped woman. Her warmth and obvious inward strength put me at ease and I commented on how delighted I was to have met her. I told her that it felt to me as though we had known one another for a long time. She smiled and said that she had a similar feeling. We seemed to be extremely comfortable together.
While putting away the groceries, Sharon invited me to stay for lunch. I told her that I would be delighted, which seemed to please her. I offered to help her prepare the meal, but she suggested that I fix us both a drink, sit down, and relax while she threw something together.
Setting our drinks down on the kitchen table, I drew up a chair so that I could watch as she pottered about the kitchen. Moving between the refrigerator, counter and stove, Sharon had no need to use her cane and seemed to be quite confident as she limped around on her braced leg. It was as though her stiff-legged gait had become a natural part of her. She kept glancing over at me and it was obvious that she was aware of my looking at her braced leg and the way she walked. She smiled, as though she understood what I was thinking, and carried on about her business without making any comment.
After finishing a tasty lunch, we moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch with refilled drinks. We sat at either end of the three-seater and Sharon lifted her stiff leg onto a hassock As the pant leg inched up slightly, I was able to see more clearly how the metal bars on either side of her damaged leg fitted into the stirrup attachment on her shoe. I told her that I was intrigued by the mechanics of this arrangement and she explained that she was able to adjust the calipers to fit different shoes, depending on the height of the heel. I then asked her how she secured the brace to her leg. Far from being embarrassed, Sharon explained that the brace was attached to whichever shoes she was wearing at the heel stirrup. At the rear of the parallel bars was a padded, leather and metal C-cuff, to support her calf. She pulled her pant leg tight so that I was able to see the outline of the 2-inch cuff firmly attached to the metal bars. Pulling her pant leg downward at the knee, I could see the outline of the square knee pad. It was necessary, she told me, to make sure that the four straps and buckles securely tightened the knee pad to the metal uprights. This prevented her nerve-damaged leg from collapsing forward when she was standing or walking. Just above the knee, at the rear of the brace, Sharon outlined another 2-inch C-cuff, similar to the one supporting her calf. She explained that the whole contraption was then held together at the top by a wide, leather, padded cuff that encircled her thigh. The thigh cuff was securely attached at the top of the two parallel metal bars that extended the full length of her leg. The opening was at the front of the cuff and was pulled together with three leather straps through metal buckles, once the brace was in place on her leg. She remarked that she feels well supported in her legbrace, which enables her to participate in most physical activities. There was no doubt about it, this was a determined, self-reliant individual who exuded both confidence and poise.
After finishing our drinks, I reluctantly told her I had to leave, but that I would love to see her again. I suggested that perhaps we could go for a walk and end up at one of my favourite restaurants for lunch the following day. She agreed and said that it sounded like fun and that she should give me her telephone number. As we stood at the front door I gave her a friendly hug and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She thanked me and waited by the door until I drove off. I was feeling extremely elated.
* * *
The following day could not come soon enough for me. I had thought of little else than my good fortune in meeting Sharon and the prospect of spending more time with her. We had seemed so comfortable together. I think part of it was to do with my being more intrigued with the mechanics of her legbrace rather than feeling sorry for her. This, coupled with her self-assuredness and dogged determination. Her life had been turned upside down with the automobile accident; she had lost a young husband and had herself, been left crippled for life. Now, she was obviously picking up the pieces, putting them together, and getting on with rebuilding her future.
After finishing my morning chores, I telephoned Sharon to let her know I would pick her up in thirty minutes and confirmed that it would be alright for us to take a walk before having lunch.
She was waiting for me as I pulled into her driveway and gave me a friendly wave. I hopped out of the car, opened the passenger door, then went toward her, giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek. (My usual greeting to my friends.) She was wearing a blue summer dress that came to just above her knees, silky nylons and brown penny loafers. The ensemble was plain and simple, but on Sharon, it was dynamite. The calf and knee supports on her legbrace were of a fine, soft leather and I could see that the way they were padded would give her firm, but gentle support. I could not help thinking how much I would like to be giving her stiff leg that firm, but gentle support; feeling the soft warmth of her leg, held rigid by those cold, metal bars. Oh, how I wished.
Her getting into the car again provided me with an unexpected thrill that I found difficult to contain. With her dress being as short as it was, I had no difficulty in seeing pretty well, the full length of her brace from the heel of her shoe to the bottom of the thigh cuff. The gleam of those rigid, polished metal bars on each side of her leg, contrasted with the sheen of her light beige nylons. The intricate workmanship of the knee hinges and locking device, together with the leather and metal support cuffs that she had described to me the day before, all were a feast for my eyes. It seemed like an eternity before I could unglue my eyes from that delightful scene. Strength and fragility all rolled into one. And that warm smile again, as our eyes met. I asked her if she was comfortable before closing her door, and she said that she was. Her dress was still above her knees as we drove off and it was obvious that was where it was going to stay. It was as though she was inviting me to take in the feast, so to speak. Had it not been that I was driving and conscious of not wanting to be the cause of another automobile accident, I would have gladly feasted my eyes on her all day.
We parked the car at the beginning of our walk. As I helped her out of the car and locked the door behind her, I realized that Sharon did not have her cane. Making sure that her brace was securely locked, she linked her arm through mine as we walked along the path beside the river. It was a beautiful summer day and with this limping angel on my arm, I was in seventh heaven. Stepping onto her braced right foot, Sharon’s upper body swayed gently away from me. With each forward step of her left foot, and slightly outward swing of her right leg, she swayed toward me. I had a sense that each time this happened, her hand gently pressed my upper arm into her warm, firm breast. I told myself that I was imagining things and this was not really happening. But when I looked at her and she gave me that warm, glowing smile, it reassured me that Sharon was unquestionably real.
Our “reserved” table was ready for us by the time we arrived at the restaurant-in-the-park. It was located in a quiet corner of the room where we could look at the other diners, if we chose to, and they would have to be obvious if they wanted to look at us. I noticed that Sharon had received a number of “poor you” looks from some of the women and some admiring glances from some of the men. I must admit I felt a pang of jealousy. I wanted Sharon all to myself. The table I had asked for assured us of a modicum of privacy.
Helping Sharon get seated, I put myself on her right so that it was inevitable that our knees would eventually touch under the table. I contrived to let my left leg relax until it contacted the outside hinge of her brace. It was a feeling of rock-solid, immobility and incredible pleasure. I glanced at Sharon to see if there was any response, but she had her head well into the menu. She let me know that the fresh air had done wonders for her appetite and that she was famished.
We placed our drink and food selections with the server. When the drinks came we toasted to “friendship” and both took a good swig. Boy, I was feeling good. Sharon seemed to catch my mood and, reaching over, took my left hand in hers. With a slight squeeze she brought it down below the table and placed it on her right knee. I thought my pant zipper was going to explode. With a twinkle in her eye, she let me know that she was aware that this is what I had wanted to do and that she wanted me to do it. What a woman. What a sensitive, warm and giving creature. Imagine, after all she had been through, she came out the other end as a self-assured and caring individual. I had never met a woman like Sharon before. It was as though she could read my mind and yearned to fulfill my desires.
Fortunately, the tablecloth reached far enough down that the other diners could not see me stroking her nylon-clad leg between the thigh cuff and knee support. Her muscle tone was quite firm, which surprised me. I had expected it to be flabby and atrophied. The metal hinges and locking mechanism felt smooth and solid and the kneepad was soft to the touch. All I had imagined, and more, was captured in that delicious moment. To touch the braced leg of a beautiful woman was like heaven on earth.
* * *
I remember very little about the meal, the return walk, or the drive back to Sharon’s place. Neither of us said very much as we entered her townhouse, but the air was full of electrified excitement. We were both feeling fully charged in our desire for one another. To speak would have destroyed the magic of the moment.
Locking the door behind us, we fell into each other’s arms and our lips joined in a succulent and passionate kiss. I started to unbutton the front of her dress, but she suggested, in a husky voice, that we go into the bedroom. On impulse I swept her off the floor and headed toward the bedroom. With my hand supporting her stiff right leg behind the knee, I negotiated the narrow hallway and entered the bedroom. My fingers were between her nylon-clad leg and the brace. Her leg felt warm, soft to the touch, while the metal bar felt cold and hard on the backs of my fingers. Pulling back the covers and lowering her gently to the bed, Sharon asked me if I would like her to remove her brace. When I suggested that I would like her to keep it on, she agreed. I finished undoing the buttons down the front of her dress and was enthralled by the sight of her voluptuous breasts, bursting out of her pale blue bra. It was as though they were inviting me to sample their delicious ripeness. Sharon helped me remove the dress completely as she lay on the bed sheets.
Removing my shirt and pants, I took in the scene before me. Sharon’s brief panties matched her bra and her nylons were held up with a delicate garter-belt. I removed the shoe from her left foot and ran my hand the full length her good leg until smooth, silky nylon transitioned into warm, delectable flesh. I climbed over to the right side of Sharon and placed my right hand on the thigh cuff of her brace. Sliding my left hand under the back of her knee, I gently raised her stiff leg. I found that I needed the added strength of my right hand to maintain my support of her braced leg. I slid my right hand down to her calf, which provided a better balance point for me to stroke her lame leg and feel the rigidity of the metal brace that cradled it. Sharon seemed to enjoy and appreciate the attention she was receiving as I felt and explored the metal and leather structure holding her crippled leg so stiff and straight. She purred like a kitten as she struggled to bring her braced leg closer to my body. I told her that I would give her all the help she needed to make this a special time for both of us.
I had not slept with another woman since my wife succumbed to cancer three years earlier. On the odd occasion when I masturbated, I could never conjure up in my mind the vision that I now saw before me. Sharon was the epitome of feminine beauty as she lay expectantly beside me. Her long brown hair, relieved of the ponytail, cascaded over the pillow and across her shoulders. With her eyes closed and her lips partly open she was savoring the delights of my caressing her stiff, braced leg. By this time, I had found it easier to pursue my fondling by kneeling between her outstretched legs. Using both hands, I was able to give as much attention to her good leg, as I was to her lame, braced one.
Reaching up, Sharon took my shoulders in her hands and pulled me slowly towards her. It was obviously time for me to pay some attention to her heaving orbs and thus prolong the moment when she would let me enter her. Cupping both breasts, my hands slowly massaged those gorgeous mounds of flesh as they pressed against there flimsy restraint. Using my thumbs and forefingers, I was able to undo the front clasp of her bra and assist in their ultimate release. Their soft, velvety beauty, tipped by a firm, hardened nipple, invited me to explore their open nakedness. I buried my face in their sweet, fragrant valley, traced every inch of their rich surface with my tongue and finished my exploration by suckling their hardened tips with light-headed abandon.
As I was engrossed in my exploration of Sharon’s upper parts, she was occupied in tantalizing my throbbing member. Her right leg was where I had left it and I became very much aware of the hardness and rigidity of her full-length brace as it pressed against my left leg. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I reached down and gently removed her panties. This was not as easy as it may seem at first glance. I had to be careful that I did not tear them on the metal buckles and straps used to secure the brace to her leg.
Leaving her stiff leg where it was, Sharon opened to me by bending her good leg outwardly. My hand deftly caressed her golden mound until it opened fully to reveal her lubricated passage of joy. With my penis in her hand, she slowly and deliberately introduced it to her tunnel of love. Our bodies melded into one as we pulsated to the rhythms of our unbridled ecstasy. We came together in an explosion of raw, animal lust, combined with a care and passion that only true lovers can share and relish. Our spent and exhausted bodies finally reposed in a warm embrace as we savored the afterglow of this ultimate physical union. There was no need for either of us to say how much we had enjoyed the experience, but Sharon later confided that she and her husband had made love just before the fatal accident. She had not slept with another man until now and she wanted me to know that it was one of the most beautiful experiences she had ever had. She had not wanted it to end. I felt a lump forming in my throat and tears welling up in my eyes. I simply could not speak at that moment, so instead I reached over and kissed her gently on her sweet lips. All I was able to muster was an almost inaudible, “Thank you; I love you.”
After a while I let her know that, while it was a pleasurable experience for me, leaving the brace on her leg had been a bit awkward and she admitted to feeling some discomfort. I thanked her for letting me experience what it was like to make love to her while she was braced, and that perhaps the next time we should try it without the brace. I thought this was a bit daring of me to presume that there would be a next time, but to my amazement and delight, she thought that it would be a good idea.
There were to be many more “next times” in fact. Two months after we met, Sharon and I were married. During the intervening weeks, we had talked a lot in getting to know one another. We discovered we enjoyed classical music, especially Mozart. Walking seemed to be a favourite pastime and our lovemaking was exquisite. The matter of my unusual attraction to her leg brace was discussed. I thought there must be something wrong with me to have a penchant for a woman who wore a leg brace. Sharon seemed to be aware of this kind of fascination and did not regard it as being in the least bit unusual. Evidently, there were many people like me.
“Anyway, what did it matter?” she would say. “We are two adults who obviously enjoy many of the same interests”.
I agreed, I liked to make love to her despite her crippled state; she enjoyed the attention she got from it, and no harm was being done to anybody. That seemed like a sensible approach and I found that my obsession with her lameness had gradually turned into love and caring, together with adoration for a truly beautiful human being. When I remarked on how much I appreciated her openness and understanding, she told me that during the months following her accident, she had an opportunity to review her life. She had been brought up in a happy and loving environment and had received healthy support from her entire family. After graduating from college, she had found employment in a law office, where she met her husband. They dated for a couple of years before moving in together and eventually marrying into a healthy and fun-loving relationship.
She was naturally devastated over her husband’s death, but eventually reached a point where she decided she could do one of two things. Either curl up and feel sorry for herself for the rest of her life and probably die prematurely in the process, or look life square in the teeth and live it to the fullest. Sharon chose the latter. During one of our intimate conversations she told me that meeting me was like a dream come true for her. She had decided that she would not remarry unless she met a man who could accept her exactly the way she was, with her leg permanently braced.
Most men, she discovered, did not want anything to do with her on a permanent basis. They were either too scared or embarrassed to approach her, or just looking for a one-night stand when they did. Sharon said she liked the way I approached her. My gentle manners and obvious curiousity, together with an underlying burning desire to be with her. By now I was quite convinced that she could read my mind and I was not in the least bit perturbed.
If ever there were two soul mates in this universe, we were undoubtedly it.