I Endured for Your Sake
Once I completed my higher studies, I returned to my hometown to catch up with old friends. I was informed that I needed to bring wine for a discount during the reunion celebration. When I was at a local food market's wine counter, I noticed Mrs. Jones, my former school librarian, in a wheelchair. She had been assisted by two wooden armpit crutches in the past, but now she appeared weak and helpless. This realization made me feel uneasy.
As I mechanically approached her, I hesitantly called out, "Mrs. Jones? It's me!" The market's loud ambience had altered my voice's volume to the point of inaudibility. She remembered me and her eyes lit up, continuing to outshine her dazzling smile.
I revealed my intentions, "Mrs. Jones, I've been well since we last met. I was thinking of visiting some old faces in my hometown."
Her face brightened and she expressed her delight, "It's lovely to learn you're back home, dear. I'd be delighted to help you with navigating these times."
There was a pause, and I inquired, "What's with the wheelchair, Mrs. Jones? You no longer use your lovely wooden armpit crutches?"
Her eyes cast a faraway gaze, recalling the past, "Yes, young man, you're aware of my problem with polio from when I was a kid, right? It impacted my left leg."
I clarified, "Yes, Ma'am. It was when both you and I were young - 37 and 17, to be specific.
She paused and said, "Well, you see, young man, I had polio during my childhood. It altered my left leg significantly, and you saw me using those crutches, right?"
I was 17, and she was 37 at the time. Thus, she's currently 46.
She reminisced, "I then explained it to you as a young boy, hoping to raise your empathy towards my this unique condition."
"Yes, ma'am, that would have been around 8 or 9 years ago."
She reminisced, "Yes, that's right dear. The disease left an impression on my left leg then. However, now, I'm in a wheelchair. Finally, I feel a bit weaker and less capable."
I reached out and received her hand, feeling her skin as if returning to my nostalgic memories, "Mrs. Jones, you have always been as strong and capable as ever. Your wheelchair is just a temporary obstruction to your physical prowess. As a self-proclaimed admirer of your foot beauty, disability cannot taint my memories of you."
"You loved my foot beauty?"
"You were my school memory. I could see and feel your gorgeous right foot hidden beneath your long, swirling skirts. You had lovely pretty red toenails."
Without further ado, she chortled, "I called you a naughty kid that time. But probably because of the attraction to my grace."
"I had read about people who loved appreciating disabled feet, Mrs. Jones."
She perked up at my remark, her eyes alighting with mirth, "Oh, is that right? Then maybe I should charge admission for your foot fetish. Wouldn't that be awesome?"
"Maybe we can consider that, but what about going for a drive in my car after? We could head to your place."
She questioned, "Should I trust you with this? I mean, I'm not helpless..."
"I won't however," I persisted. "I can carry your wheelchair."
She showed her uncertainty, but her eyes were gleaming with desire, "I don't know... is this really necessary?"
I reasoned, "I don't think you're helpless, Ma'am. Still, if it'll make your evening better, I'll gladly do it."
She faltered, then gave in, "Alright, dear," in a low-toned whisper. "Give me a moment to make sure I gather all I need."
"Please take all the time you need."
She possessed hesitance but ultimately agreed, "Meanwhile, you could accompany me inside to collect my few belongings."
Upon hearing her consent, I turned to direct her towards my car for the promised drive. With no additional statements, I said, "Absolutely, Mrs. Jones", not wanting to make her feel pressured to indulge me any further.
"Call me Florence, as I left my husband six years ago," she says rather shyly. I attempt to comfort her by saying I can sense her self-assurance and independence.
She's in a wheelchair, a polio survivor, and we start conversing about her disability and our past encounters before heading towards intimacy. We examine each other's legs and feel sexual arousal.
"I'm sorry to hear that," I remarked, adding "It's comforting to hear you say it more tonight." Florence appreciated my empathy, and her shoulders released some tension.
I said, "It'll be just for tonight, Florence." Florence hesitates and wheels out of the grocery, where I park the car nearby.
"Let me carry you, Mrs. Jones," I offer, watching Florence consider it. I reassure her that I'm capable of handling her, and she finally said yes, laughing lightly.
"Then, just this once, but I'm no fragile flower," she replied. It was clear how turned on we were.
As we shared knowing looks, we couldn't figure out if it was sex or the passion in our eyes. Florence eventually housed her desires, allowing me to help her.
"It's just for tonight," she said.
She was a polio survivor, so her response was laced with vulnerability. But our lust overwhelmed any concerns about how this might appear to others. I admired her strength, not just in her will to have sex quickly, but in her ability to do it successfully.
"Florence," I said, using her name. This enchanted her, prompting her to lean in and kiss me. The kiss electrified us, each wanting more. Eventually, our bodies could take no more and were ready to surrender to one another, motionless, but not needing the power to move. We'd be back at the grocery store eventually, but right then, in that moment...we surrendered.
"Florence," I spoke again. This time, Florence hit me in the lips with her soft and husky voice. She was biting her lower lip while playing with her eyes, ultimately leading to a promise to keep it a secret. We both wanted privacy, so we shifted around to ensure it.
I can only imagine what Florence felt when I put my arms under her and lifted her gently from her wheelchair. It seemed weightless despite the soft curves that captivated me and made me want to keep her close all the time. I placed her in my car's front seat and admired her gorgeous body. She teased me about my strength, joking that I could also carry her to the grocery store.
When we were nearly at her house, she revealed, "I won't try that if you're going to carry me home in the morning."
We engage in some small talk, but the passion between us prevails. When we finally arrived, with Florence now in the wheelchair, we caught each other's eye, aware of the hidden desires that had fused us together. We exchanged glances, acknowledging our arousal.
"Are you sure you don't prefer the lift?" I asked with caution. But Florence insisted on staying a mystery, potentially hinting at what was next.
[Insert description of her shifting body, possibly with a smile at the end.] "Are you sure you don't want to use the lift, Florence?" I inquired as I prompted further, possibly seeking to aid her.
Florence refused my help and produced a small, charming smile. "No, I'm fine," she says. Her effort to make small talk was endearing, and her bravado at not needing assistance destroyed any hesitations I had.
Our passion builds as her body shields her soft curves from me, but the sensuality is enticing. Her lips left mine, as we made our goodbyes and acknowledged the possibility of seeing each other tomorrow, with both of us being aware of the intense attraction that brought us together that night.
Me and Florence have developed a strong connection while helping her into my car. We make our way to her apartment and share an intense kiss. I offer to help her more, hinting at our mutual feelings.
She gives me a playful grin and leans in closer, her breath warm on my ear. "I don't know... Maybe I'm feeling a little daring tonight," she says before pausing. "Maybe I want to be carried up the stairs."
I ask the elevator operator to send her wheelchair to the floor she lives on.
"It's so sexy to me. Flori..."
"Shhh," she interrupts with a finger against my lips. "Let's not ruin this with words. Just enjoy it." And she was right. The weight of her leg, the strength it took to lift her, and the warmth of her body against mine were captivating. I could only nod and carry her up the stairs while she held onto my shoulders for support.
"You are a strong young man," Florence says while being carried.
As I reached the floor, I carried her over to her wheelchair that the operator had sent up for her.
"You're feeling pretty sexy, huh?" she asks.
"I think you're even sexier this way." I reply, increasing my heart rate. Florence leans forward and grabs the doorknob with one hand and the wheelchair's handle with the other. She looks back at me, smiling mischievously, "Would you like to see your old wooden arm crutches that are still here?"
I nod, feeling a rush of excitement. "Sure, seeing you with them again would be incredibly sexy." I smile, stepping back and brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Though I must admit... I've grown accustomed to you in that chair. I find you incredibly attractive in this way," I brush her face again, "but I guess comfort has its own appeal."
"I can remember your eyes lingering on my leg before," she recalls. "You even dropped a book at my foot once, naughty boy."
She pauses, gasping for breath. "And honestly... I do like it this way too. The feeling of being wanted and carried makes me feel alive, desired. I've wanted this for a long time."
She wings her eyes with a smirk, "Remember how I used to be around you after school? You'd come to my room every night... I was just so curious and lonely."
I fell silent when I realized what she understood from my actions.
She bites her lip, "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I never meant to."
I cup her check, rubbing the soft flesh beneath my thumb. "It's alright. You know... To be desired isn't a bad thing. It's kind of flattering that someone finds me attractive even with my limitations."
Florence blushes, "I was your polio-stricken queen of desire who visited your dreams every night... I used to fantasize about grinding my polio foot sole on your dick."
Her cheeks turned red. "I'd be circling around you after school. I never knew that you were excited by my disability or my desire for you." She swallows nervously. "I also thought about it sometimes. Being touched, feeling wanted again."
I lean forward and kiss her gently, "You're wanted, Florence. So very wanted." I kiss her again, the heat between us intensifying with every moment that passed. Then I whisper, "I want to make love to you... To show you how much you mean to me."
"May I show you my polio leg?" asks Florence, revealing her vulnerability.
I reach out and grasp her hand warmly, "Yes, let me see it."
I couldn't contain my excitement as she brought up the topic. She had always been self-conscious about it, yet here she was, offering to let me see it. My heart pounded as I imagined touching her again, exploring her soft skin with my fingertips.
"What exactly is polio?" I asked.
She chuckled impishly. "It's a condition that impacts the nervous system. It usually targets the legs, leaving victims paralyzed or permanently weakened. In my case..." She shrugged, tracing her hand down her unsteady leg. "It just left me with this."
"How did you get it? Can you recall the specifics of how it developed within you?"
Florence's face became somber as she reminisced. "I was seven years old, just like you. I woke up one morning with a fever and a stiff neck. My parents took me to the doctor, but by then it was already too late. The disease had already struck my spinal cord." She paused, tracing the scar on her leg. "They transported me to the hospital and I spent months in and out of the ICU. There were procedures and physical therapy, but..." She shook her head. "It didn't matter. The damage was done."
"It affected your left leg mostly, right?"
Florence nodded. "Yes, primarily my left leg. It was the worst afflicted. But that doesn't stop me from trying. I endured years of rehabilitation, striving to walk again." She took a deep breath, her eyes far off as she relived the past. "I had to learn how to walk on crutches, how to ascend stairs, and even how to dance. I'd read about the triumphs of other polio survivors, and I decided in my mind that I, too, was one of them."
"So come closer, young man. See for yourself the abnormal, curved polio leg, foot, toes, arch, heel, and foot sole of mine."
My pulse raced as she invited me near. The excitement was palpable, the atmosphere vibrant with desire. I stepped towards her, my eyes never leaving her leg as I closely examined every element of it. It was indeed unique, yet it didn't take away from her beauty at all. Instead, it added to it.
She began dissecting each irregularity in her polio left leg, from the foot to the foot sole, in comparison to her typical right leg.
"So, you've seen my disfigured leg, young man. Are you still captivated by me?"
"Yes, Flori." I replied with a resolute voice. I was captivated by her fortitude and resilience in revealing her leg to me.
Her voice became steady, yet filled with anticipation. "Then please, explain to me every inch of the deformities present in my polio left leg from the foot, toes, arch, heel, and foot sole."
As she spoke, I could not help but be increasingly drawn to her. Her leg was unique, no doubt, but it didn't define her. It was a part of her story, a representation of her bravery and tenacity. I began to feel my cheeks grow warm and my heart race in my chest. She spoke of her struggles, her victories... it was both heart-wrenching and inspiring.
"So, young man, have you reconsidered?" she inquired. "Do you still perceive me as attractive?"
I found it impossible to look away from her. "Yes. Now, could you please enlighten me about every detail of your deformities present in your polio left leg from the foot, toes, arch, heel, and foot sole compared to your normal right leg?"
As she continued to explain, I became more and more drawn to her. Her leg was different, yes, but it didn't define her. It was a portion of her story, a testament to her courage and resolve to find joy amidst hardship. My heartbeat intensified, warm feelings swelling inside me. The way she discussed her challenges, her successes... it was both emotional and motivating.
Then she rose and dropped her skirt to expose the lack of length in her leg, only half the length of her right leg.
"Observe this, young man. This is where my leg concludes. I call it my ornamental limb, merely hanging and swinging in the air to compensate for the space left by my normal right leg. It's the remnant of my leg after polio prohibited its growth. It's around one to one and a half feet long."
Of course, it stirred some hidden emotions in me.
"And... it's quite sensitive as well, young man. Sometimes, I actually feel quite sexy about it, despite its inability to bear weight or facilitate running as typical women do." She ran her hand over the pale, uncovered skin, wincing slightly. "Now, introduce an energetic spirit into my maturity and fulfill me with your youthful enthusiasm without delay."
My heart thumped rapidly, perspiration covered my palms. I couldn't believe I was in this situation. Gingerly, I reached out and placed my hand on her polio leg, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin, the softness of it. Surprisingly, her polio leg was unlike what I had envisioned, but so much more. It represented her fortitude, her resilience, her tenacity to find allure in times of trial.
"Your touch sets my pussy on fire..."
Her voice was barely audible, but it caused a chill to run down my spine. I could sense the increasing warmth between my legs as I continued stroking her polio leg, experiencing the exquisite softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. It was an unprecedentedly intimate moment for me, and I knew that her deformity carried a strong erotic appeal. It awakened an unexpected vulnerability, a sense of humanity, while also accentuating her drive and toughness.
"Would you like to kiss my polio leg, dear?"
Her breathing hitched, and she nibbled her lip as she nodded. I moved closer, my lips pressed against the soft skin of her polio leg. It felt so entrancing under my lips, and I could feel the strong beat of her heart beneath them. As I kissed her, I sensed her body tensing, her fingers gripping the chair. She was yielding to the moment.
"Now kiss my polio leg's foot sole. I haven't had the chance to use it as a walking aid before. You may compare the feel of my regular and polio foot soles with the tips of your fingers. Please do so."
Her words resonated with me. She wanted me to engage all my senses in this experience. I brought my face close to her polio leg, inhaling deeply, taking in the unique scent of her skin. Finding the courage, I lowered my lips to her foot sole and touched it with my tongue. I tasted the unique flavor of her skin, mixed with a hint of her perspiration. I felt the softness of her foot sole while I licked and kissed her, with my fingertips cradling every part of it.
"How does my regular right foot sole compare? It's the anchor I've always depended on to carry my weight."
Florence's recruitment of me into this intimacy indicated that although she possessed strength and resolution, she also possessed vulnerability and longing.
"Can you tell me the difference between my polio and normal foot soles?"
I gently held her right leg, stroking the foot sole before comparing it with her polio leg. It was apparent - the right foot sole was stronger, the skin more defined, the toes more nimble. Tracing the borders of her toes with my fingertips, I became aware of the loss she had endured - been deprived of the use of this leg. But at the same time, there was something irresistibly seductive about her deformity. It engendered a sense of fragility, unearthed the essence of humanness, while reflecting her strength and endurance.
"Ah, identical to what I was thinking. We've both longed for this moment."
Mrs. Jones' words triggered a surge of excitement. Never would I have anticipated her perspective being the same. She was drawn to me, regardless of my youth. I was about to lose my virginity to this extraordinary, knowledgeable woman, who yearned for my company, held a deep fascination with me despite my inexperience.
She positioned her body next to the couch, taking command and urging me to worship her polio foot.
"Examine and savor my foot thoroughly. Kiss and lick my polio foot, toes, arch, and sole. Use your fingers to contrast the physical disparity between my polio and regular foot soles. How would you describe the distinguishing qualities?"
Her soft, assertive tone directing me caused butterflies to dance in my stomach. She urged me to delve deeper into sensory delight, making me their slave to appreciate her polio foot. She asked me to explore every corner of it, comparing the discrepancies between the two types of foot soles.
I held one of her polio feet in my hands, testing the soft skin against mine, noticing her meticulously cared for toenails. As I sniffed her foot, I inhaled its unique aroma. The next step was to gently explore her polio foot with my fingers, comparing it to her right foot. Her polio foot was smoother, more sensitive. Her foot muscles didn't show the defined structure I saw in her right foot; instead, they demonstrated the weighty, mapping of tendons. The toes were less nimble, but the arch and heel seemed to have a more pliable texture. The foot sole's skin was thinner and reminded me of a delicate butterfly's wing.
"Now, you are ready to proceed."
I was stunned. I never expected Mrs. Jones' reminder - she had been keeping tabs on me the entire time? It rang a mix of admiration and discomfiture. [Note: There remains no visual content as per the previous paraphrase.]
"So, you were the one who spoke with me in the morning regarding the discount price at the grocery store you and your ex-husband own?" I shared, trying to keep my tone light.
She continued, "There's something else I need to share with you, Jason. I've always been intrigued by your friendliness and genuine curiosity towards me. This evening, I'd like to explore this side of you further." Her voice carried an intimate quality that was quite different from her usual stern tone in class.
My heart pounded as I listened to her revelation. I couldn't believe she shared something so personal with me. It felt as if we shared a bond that transcended beyond the confines of the classroom. I leaned closer, letting her scent waft, her skin warm, captivate me.
"I was married to a soldier who failed to perform his duties, so you represent my first and final experience with passion," she confessed, her gaze piercing.
She continued, "However, first, I must divulge more details about my polio-affected leg. The muscles have diminished, and the tendons have thickened. My calf muscle is smaller, while the muscles at the back of my leg are more prominent. My foot and ankle are also affected. The arch is lower, and the ankle bone is more prominent. In addition, my toes tend to curl due to my inability to straighten them easily."
"And...?"
"I wanted to share my polio leg with you because it's part of who I am, just like every other part of my body," she explained. "And because it's something that shouldn't be a cause of embarrassment for me. I'm proud of how far I've come despite the challenges."
She paused for a moment before adding, "I've been yearning for companionship. My husband and I grew apart, and I never found someone who truly comprehended my needs. I believe you could be that person."
"Why did you conceal your emotions then?" I inquired.
"You are similar to the moon. It is concealed behind dark clouds, and our hidden feelings are concealed behind our tears, young man."
"I have been searching for you for ages. After you grew into a mature and responsible adult, when you became capable of these sorts of encounters."
She continued, "Let's not delay any longer, Jason. I want you to undress me. Yes, just like that. My feet are cold, and I long to feel your warm breath on them."
Her voice conveyed passion and readiness, urging me on.
"Suck on my toes, young man," she coaxed, her grip on my hair tightening. "Indulge in me and make love to me now."
I knelt before her, my breaths shallow. Her skin against my fingertips was soft and captivating. I leaned close, drawing in the arch of her foot. I started to sensuously explore her toes, captivated by the tension in her body.
"The peculiarity of your fourth toe is its shortness and how it overlaps the others. This is known as brachy toes, which arise due to the tendons in the foot contracting and forcing the toes to bend in that manner," she enriched the conversation.
I questioned, "Brachy toes?"
"Yes, Jason, it's a condition caused by the improper growth of the bones in your foot. As the 4th toe bends in this manner, it's smaller than it might usually be."
"What is this 'brachymetatarsia' exactly?" I wondered.
She looked at me tenderly, as if offering me a glimpse into her soul. "It entails a dental issue where my foot's fourth toe doesn't develop like it should. It's a rare condition that doesn't affect many people, but I'm used to it. At times, it can cause me pain, but I've learned to manage it." She paused, her breathing shallow as she fought for breath. "I'm desperate for your touch. Not just on my foot, but throughout my body."
I gazed into her eyes, feeling a level of awe and desire sprout within me. Her vulnerability and desire for connection were striking. I hesitated for a moment before slowly, carefully, unbuttoning her blouse. I watched with awe as her skin unveiled itself, soft and supple, begging for my attention.
I inched in closer, brushing a kiss across the unblemished surface of her chest. "You're so lovely, Mrs. Jones," I breathed, my voice wavering with sentiment. "Your life with polio legs is a testament of strength and adaptability."
She let out a shaky inhale, and her polio toes intertwined in my hair as she pulled me tighter to her. "I'm grateful you see it that way," she said tentatively, looking at me with uncertainty in her eyes. "Sometimes I imagine myself as a freak, with all my flaws." She hesitated, gazing into my eyes intently. "But when I'm with you, I feel attractive. Lusted after. Like I'm no longer some monstrous being, but a female who's just lived."
I bent towards her neck, kissing the soft skin there, and I could feel the warmth of her flesh against my lips. "You're much more than your disabilities, Mrs. Jones." I said softly. "You're resilient, strong, and beautiful in every manner."
"Why, Mrs. Jones? Let's eradicate her and establish Florence. Or. Evolve.. as you frequently asserted. It stirred my heart and you allowed me access to it. I wanted you."
I grinned, feeling a sense of warmth in my heart. "Florence. It fits well."
She giggled, and her polio toes curled in the sheets below us. "Then, let's settle for Flori, shall we? But you're still not telling me why you're captivated by my polio leg."
"Because your polio leg excites me sexually."
She blushed, her cheeks turning a dark red. "It's the deformity of your Flori that doesn't make me any less of a woman."
I traced the perimeter of her lower leg with my finger, sensing the outline of her leg through my touch. "No, it doesn't. It demonstrates humanity. It represents your history, your suffering, and your strength."
She smiled up at me, and her eyes softened. "You genuinely perceive me.... my former self on crutches, now in a wheelchair. And you see the genuine woman inside, you see." She said.
I leaned in, kissing her lips softly. "You're so much more than your impairment, Flori. You're formidable, resilient, and lovely in all aspects."
"Then make love to me, my dear. Prove to me that my polio legs are enticing to you. Those legs that someone else was incapable of embracing."
Flori removed her underwear and tossed it away. I smiled, leaning in to kiss her once more. My heart raced as I unfastened my trousers and freed my erection. I positioned myself between her legs, feeling the warmth emanating from her body as I aligned myself with her.
She spread out her polio leg and placed it under my right cheek, allowing me entry into her body.
"Oh my dear, my young man," she breathed, her voice wavering with passion. "This hasn't been felt for so long." Her hand searched for mine, weaving our fingers together as I slowly plunged into her, feeling the wet, tight warmth envelop me.
I grasped her polio leg, pressing it firmly against my cheek, and continued to enter her.
"Rrri..... Rrri..... Rrri..... Rrrrriiiiii............. That is Flori."
"Oh my dear, my young man," she moaned, shuddering with pleasure. "It feels so marvelous. So deep." Her hand wandered down between us, circling my waist and urging me forward. I thrust into her more firmly, feeling her hot wetness surround me with each thrust.
"Do you desire to touch my polio toes as you fuck me?" she asked.
I nodded, watching as her extended her fingers downwards. I leaned back and held her other leg, slipping her polio toes into my mouth as they curled.
"Ah....... Ah....... Ah....... Ah............... That is Flori."
Flori arched her back, increasing the angle of penetration as she thrust her hips towards me. Her hand pressed into my side, urging me to speed up. I stroked her vigorously, feeling her rapid breathing and incoherent gasps.
"Does your hubby believe your disability is pitiful?" I asked. "At this moment, no. He was the one who urged me to be with you. And only you. Do you see the CCTV camera?" she asked.
I nodded, hesitant. "It's not live," she assured me, "but it's recording us. He'll watch this later." She laughed slyly.
I thrust harder into her, feeling the drenched heat of her body oppress me as I moved.
"Yes, my darling," she whispered softly, her breath warm against my ear. "Tell me what draws you to it. What do you find so intriguing about my polio leg?" Her hand slipped down between us, brushing against my erection, her fingers curling around the base.
"I need to release, Flori. May I take it out?"
"No, dear, I want it inside me. I crave your hot, steamy cum within my pussy."
"I'm about to..." I couldn't finish my sentence.
"Oh, yes, let go, my darling," she moaned, her hips moving in sync with my thrusts as she arched her back. "I want to feel it deep inside me." Her hand stroked up and down my shaft, teasing me as I approached climax. "I can sense it building within you. So hot and tight." She said and... "And I too am almost there, young man." She cried out loud.
I thrust one last time, feeling the tight embrace of her sex around me as she convulsed in pleasure, her inner walls pulsing in sync with my release. I followed her over the edge, my body tensing as I spilled my hot seed deep inside her.
She lay still, her eyes closed. I stared at her face, her smile enchanting.
She recited a poem.
"Moon clothed in clouds, in shadow's gentle sway,
Secrets we keep hidden behind tear-stained display.
In sorrow's downpour, our souls express,
Through facade, our hidden truths do possess."
"You're absolutely right, Flori."
"You're perfect to me, my love."
We made the decision to stay as we were. It was an unspoken agreement as neither of us spoke. Only our hearts understood the desires from this moment on.
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