Yvonne Allen broke her arm. It would be more accurate to say that someone broke it for her. Her injury occurred not long after leaving a trendy club at closing time with a couple of her girlfriends -- Dana and Donna -- enjoying a girls night out. The club was known for being friendly to gays, lesbians and trans people; of whom Yvonne was a trans person. Her two girlfriends were lesbians supportive of Yvonne after she came out publicly, and the three of them were quite the gal pals. A good time was had by all until moments after they exited the club through the back entrance. The back entrance was conveniently closer to the car they drove to the club. It was a cool, drizzly autumn evening so none of the ladies wanted to be out in the rain any longer than necessary.
Unfortunately for them, also located near the back entrance that emptied into the alleyway between the streets, were a gang of "good old boys" who apparently had been drinking as they acted (as Dana and Donna later reported to the police officer who took their statements) drunk and disorderly. Probably stumbled their way out of the redneck bar up the block, and were on the prowl for some extracurricular activities, Donna was quoted during her statement to the police. They must have spied the ladies as they exited the club, according to Dana, and decided to harass them.
Verbally at first, but then things got physical when one of the "good old boys", after he grabbed Yvonne in an intimate manner, became enraged at what he felt down there. Physical harassment ensued, and during the confrontation Yvonne tried to defend herself against one of the other "good old boys" swinging mercilessly at her with a broom handle. The subsequent blows broke her right arm, hand and wrist in several places. By the time the police arrived (Dana called 911 a few minutes prior at the first sign of trouble) Yvonne was sitting on the damp pavement cradling her busted arm and howling in pain.
That was two nights ago. Today marked the third day of Yvonne wearing a bulky plaster cast and white cloth sling. She was seated on the end of the bed staring down at the cast and admiring some of the autographs she has thus far acquired from friends and well-wishers. Her entire arm is encased in the cast - her fingers individually wrapped in plaster bandages, as is her hand with fingers splayed, the plaster bandages continued past her wrist and on up her forearm, and finally around her elbow and stopped just under her armpit.
The use of her right arm will not be an option for the next six weeks. She was as much aware of this fact as was her boyfriend Lyle, who had stepped up and became a Godsend with helping her perform basic day-to-day activities - cutting up her food, cleaning, running errands, and helping her get dressed and put on her makeup. The part about helping her get dressed was what Lyle was doing as Yvonne sat on the end of the bed. He had momentarily stepped out of the bedroom and into the walk-in closet to find the last components to her outfit. What a sweet guy, she thought.
He had just finished helping her put on a pair of silky pantyhose. Pantyhose that showed off her shapely legs with the retro-hippie mini-dress she managed to wriggle into all by herself. She playfully suggested not wearing panties as it would enhance the erotic sensation she had been feeling all day. So what if the other guests caught a peek at her clitty, especially if it was raging beneath the hemline of her dress? He wholeheartedly agreed.
They were on their way to an adult costume party that evening. Partly to celebrate Halloween, partly so that Yvonne can meet up with her good friend Chasey Holt -- a.k.a. The Booted Reporter Babe. Chasey was an independent investigative reporter that had a talent for getting to the bottom of things. When Chasey learned of what happened to Yvonne she immediately set out to determine who those hooligans were. And from what she told Yvonne over the phone, there was a scoop that she must share with her in person.
As she was thought about what Chasey had to say, and enjoying the luxurious feel of silky pantyhose against her freshly-shaved legs, Yvonne heard Lyle as he returned to the the master bedroom with his favorite - and hers too - pair of white patent leather knee high boots. The perfect compliment to her outfit, she thought. That and it will accessorize with my cast and sling too.
"Found them," he smiled at her as he came out of the walk-in closet holding the boots.
"I see!" she said with an excited expression and tone in her voice. Her voice had become more feminine over the last several months due in part to the hormone therapy and lessons with a voice coach.
He sat down in front of her, set the pair of boots next to her legs, and as he reached for her delicate foot with painted toenails beaming through her pantyhose said, "May I assist madam with her choice of footwear?"
"Why yes, kind sir, you may," she replied with a sly vixen smile. He took the first boot and unzipped it. Next he placed her foot inside and then slowly, seductive, pulled the zipper all the way up the shaft that ended at her knee. He kissed her knee gently, then leaned back to allow her to extend her other leg. He repeated the process again only this time after kissing her knee he let his hands run wild over her pantyhose-covered thighs.
She playfully feigned objection to this overt display of affection as she exclaimed, "Oh my! Taking advantage of a helpless woman with a broken arm? I'll call the manager over and report you!"
"But your sexy legs are crying out to me to be fondled madam. I am a sucker for a beautiful woman wearing such a short dress, pantyhose and lovely boots! I can't help myself..." She saw that he made eye contact with her the whole time he said that, lingered his gaze a few moments more before he bent down on all fours and proceeded to run his tongue all over her boots. First one leg, then the other.
She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure. She loved his boot fetish almost as much as she loved hers. Something about wearing boots was such a turn on. His licking soon made its way up to her knees and thighs. She laid back on the bed and allowed him to continue ravishing her like a hungry wolf. The sensation of his touch and the moment of intimacy caused her clitty to become aroused; this created a protruding bulge under her pantyhose that sent him into overdrive as his hands and mouth made their way over to her erection. He pushed up the hemline of her dress, spread her legs slightly and proceeded to mouth please her through her pantyhose. The sensation of silky nylon and the gentle suction of his willing mouth gave rise to her orgasmic climax. Being the good boyfriend that he was, he cleaned every last drop of her cum and then placed his face between the insides of her thighs while at the same time gently stroked the outsides. She was in a state of bliss, eyes still closed, which momentarily caused her to forget about her broken arm.
Her eyes opened as she felt the firm but gentle tug of his hand taking hold of her good hand and assisting her upright again. She looked at him lovingly into his gorgeous gray eyes and said, "Thank you darling. That was... amazing!"
He sat down next to her on the bed, still holding her good hand, and kissed it in true gentlemanly fashion. She took her good hand out of his, and proceeded to sooth the bulge that emanated from inside his trousers. He leaned in towards her and placed an open mouth kiss over her welcoming tongue.
"Don't smudge my lipstick, lover. It has taken you a couple of days to at least become adequate in applying my makeup. At least to the point where I don't look like a street corner girl," she teased him as she moved her hand from his crotch and place her index finger on his soft lips.
"Party pooper!" he said.
