For You I Waited

I had just finished my higher studies and returned to my hometown, eager to reconnect with old friends. I was told by my friends to collect the wine for a discounted price on my way as my share for the reunion party. As I was browsing through the wine counter of a local grocery store, I happened to spot her. She was sitting in a wheelchair, her once-familiar figure now confined to a seat with wheels. It was the school librarian lady, Mrs. Jones. She used to walk with the help of two wooden armpit crutches, but now she seemed so frail and vulnerable. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness wash over me.

I approached her tentatively, hoping she'd remember me. "Mrs. Jones?" I said, my voice barely audible over the din of the market. Her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face. "Why, it's you, young man! It's been years since I last saw you. How are you?"

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I've been good, ma'am. I just finished my higher studies and I was thinking about heading home. You know, see some familiar faces."

She smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with tears. "That's wonderful, dear. It's always nice to come back home. And who knows, maybe I can help you find your way around these days."

I chuckled, feeling a little self-conscious. "I'm sure I'll manage, Mrs. Jones. But I noticed that you're in a wheelchair now. No more with those two beautiful wooden armpit crutches. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes took on a faraway look as she remembered the old days. "Well, dear, you remember how I used to tell you about my polio when you were a young boy? About how it affected my leg?"

"Sure I would still like to talk about it. as a young man." I said.

I was 17 and she was 37 then. Now I am 26 and she should be 46 now.

"Well, you see, young man, I had polio when I was just a little girl. It left my left leg a bit...different. You used to see me walking with those beautiful wooden armpit crutches, didn't you?"

"Surely Mrs. Jones, you were my I candy. I only could so your right strong foot under your long-flared skirts. You had beautiful toes painted in red color."

"Oh, you were such a naughty boy! But I suppose that's why you noticed me, isn't it? Now that I'm in this wheelchair, I feel a bit...different. Like I'm not as strong or as capable as I used to be."

I reached out and gently took her hand in mine. Her skin felt soft and warm, just like I remembered it. "Mrs. Jones, you are still just as strong and capable as you ever were. It's just that now your body needs a little help. But that doesn't change who you are on the inside. And besides, I think you're even more beautiful now."

"Still toes are very pretty and they attract me to touch them." I said.

She laughed, a soft, gentle sound that warmed my heart. "Oh, you were always such a flirt! But you know, dear, I think it's because you saw something in me that maybe even I didn't see. You saw past my disability, and you saw me for who I really was. And I think that's why we connected."

"I have read and there are people who love disabled feet. Mrs. Jones."

She smiled at my remark, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, maybe I should start charging admission for my toes then, hm?"

"Sure, I can pay by offering you a car drive to your apartment."

She chuckled. "Well, I appreciate the offer, dear. But I think I'll pass this time. Maybe next time you can take me out for ice cream or something?"

"Of course, Mrs. Jones." I said, trying to hide my disappointment. "But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

She gave me a knowing smile. "I know where to find you, dear. And who knows? Maybe one day I'll take you up on that offer."

"What about now? It's already a late evening, Mrs. Jones. Of course, I can help with your wheelchair to load in my car."

"Oh, dear, I don't know..." she hesitated. "I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure if..."

"Don't worry. I will carry your bags for you."

"Oh, dear, you really don't have to..." she protested, but I could see the hint of desire in her eyes. "I mean, it's not like I'm helpless or anything."

No let's make tonight for us. I have red wine in my car."

"Oh, dear..." she murmured, biting her lower lip. There was a flicker of desire in her eyes, and I could see her hesitating. But then she seemed to make up her mind. "All right," she said softly. "Just...just give me a moment to make sure I've got everything I need."

"Yes. Mrs. Jones."

"Please call me Florence, I am separated from my unworthy husband 6 years back."

Mrs. Jones (Florence) is hesitant about accepting my offer of a ride but finds his attention flattering. I assure her that she's not helpless and offers to help with her bags. Florence agrees, but only after making sure she has everything she needs. I and Florence discuss her separation from her husband and her desire to be called by her first name.

I return home and encounters Mrs. Jones, a polio survivor who is now in a wheelchair. They discuss her disability and their past interactions, leading to them examining each other's legs and experiencing sexual arousal. They have sex.

"Florence..." I repeated her name, savoring the way it rolled off my tongue. "I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad you're here with me tonight." I could feel the tension easing out of her shoulders as I spoke, and I knew she was starting to relax.

"No it's really lovely when you say it. I need to hear it more tonight from you."

I smiled and leaned in closer, my heart racing as I felt the warmth of her skin against mine. The air between us seemed to crackle with anticipation, and I could feel the weight of our shared desire pressing down on us. I reached out and gently brushed a stray hair from her cheek, my fingers trembling ever so slightly.

"It's just for one night, Florence. I promise." I said as she hesitated.

She wheeled outside the grocery, and I brought the car near to her to her to shift from wheelchair to car's front seat.

"Please let me help you, Mrs. Jones. I am strong enough to carry you."

She hesitated, biting her lip as she considered my offer. Her gaze dropped to my broad shoulders, then back up to my eyes, and I could see the conflict within her. Finally, she took a deep breath and nodded. "All right," she said softly, "but just...just this once. And I'm not some fragile flower, you know."

Our eyes hit on each other with lot of craving for sex. My touch of her body also made her to a loud sigh.

"It's okay. You don't have to hide it. I like the way you look at me." she whispered. "I like the way you touch me."

"Sure, Mrs. Jones?"

I express empathy and appreciation for Florence, which helps her relax. Florence enjoys my attention and finds his touch reassuring. There is a palpable sexual tension between us as we stand outside the grocery store. Florence hesitates, but ultimately allows me to help her into the car. She reminds me that she's not fragile, but our desire for each other overpowers any concerns about appearances. Our gazes and touches express our mutual attraction and anticipation for the night ahead.

Her laugh was soft and husky, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh, please, call me Florence. And don't worry, I'm not that fragile. Besides, I think you might enjoy carrying me." She bit her lower lip, a playful glint in her eye. "And if you're really strong, maybe you could even carry me back here in the morning."

I smiled at her and bent down, carefully lifting her into my arms. Her weight was lighter than I expected, but there was a delicious softness to her curves that made me want to hold her close forever. I placed her gently in the front seat of the car, taking care not to jostle her too much. As I straightened up, I couldn't help but admire the view of her body in my arms, her breasts pressing against my chest, her polio leg wrapped around my waist.

"Great, Florence." I said.

She gave me a sly smile and leaned in, pressing her lips against mine. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, then grew more passionate as she felt my response. My hands moved to her hips, pulling her body against mine, and I could feel the heat between us intensifying with each passing second. She moaned softly into my mouth, her tongue darting out to explore mine, and I knew that we were both on the same page.

I drove the car fast as she directed and finally we reached her place. I quickly brought her wheelchair next to the car and shifted in one second.

"Are you sure you don't want to use the lift, Florence?" I asked, helping her transfer from the car to the wheelchair.

Florence insists on being called by her first name and teases I about his strength. She implies that she would enjoy the experience of being carried, even if they end up back at the grocery store the next morning. I lift her carefully into the car, marveling at her softness and curves. I confirms her name, which prompts her to lean in and kiss him passionately. Our kiss intensifies, and we both lose ourselves in the moment, growing increasingly aroused. We finally arrive at her place, and I help her transfer from the car to the wheelchair. I asked if she's sure she doesn't want to use the lift, indicating that he's willing to assist her further if needed.

I and Florence continue to express mutual attraction while helping her into the car. They arrive at her apartment, where they share a passionate kiss. I offered to assist her further, hinting at their continued desire for each other.

She gave me a mischievous smile and leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "Oh, I don't know... Maybe I'm feeling a little adventurous tonight." She paused, letting the words hang in the air between us. "Maybe I want to be carried up the stairs."

I asked elevator operator to send her wheelchair to the floor she is living after carrying her in my arms.

"It's so sexy to me. Flori.."

"Shhh," she interrupted, placing her finger against my lips. "Don't ruin it with words. Just feel it." And she was right. The weight of her leg, the strength it took to carry her, the heat of her body against mine... it was all intoxicating. I nodded, unable to speak, and began to ascend the stairs, her hands gripping tightly to my shoulders for support.

"You are strong young man."

Florence whispered as I carried her up the stairs, her breath hot against my ear. I couldn't help but smile at her words, enjoying the way she felt in my arms. It was a strange mix of confidence and vulnerability that she exuded, and I found myself wanting to please her in every way possible. Her polio leg wrapped around my waist, holding on tight as I climbed, her body arched against mine, their polio-twisted leg and the other intertwined like some sort of twisted dance.

"Wait I will open the door for you" She said.

I nodded and placed her on the wheelchair which was correctly sent by the elevator operator, taking a step back as she wheeled herself into the hallway. The lights were dimmed, casting a soft glow over the hardwood floor and the walls adorned with family photos. I could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of what was to come, and it only made my heart race faster. Florence leaned forward, reaching out to grasp the doorknob with one hand, her other hand clasped around the wheelchair's handle. She paused, looking back over her shoulder at me, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"Do you want to see your unforgotten wooden armpit crutches still?

They're still in the closet... I..."

"Sure, it would be really sexy to me." I replied, feeling a thrill race through my veins at the thought of seeing her with them again. "But you know..." I trailed off, stepping forward to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. "I've gotten pretty used to you in that chair. I think I like you better this way."

"I can remember your then eyes craving at my walking with leg, shoe dangling and once you dropped a book at my foot to see it closely naughty boy."

She paused, breathless, as if reliving that moment. "But you know..." Her voice trailed off, and she leaned forward, her lips brushing against my ear. "I think I like you better this way too. With me like this... It makes me feel so alive, so wanted. And I've wanted you for so long."

"You were minor then. I never wanted to be a trouble for you. But I always remembered your desired eyes. Of course, I was thrilling with myself when I was lonely and when my pussy needed my finger tip to feel her."

I was silent becoming aware that all I did she has understood.

"When you sent me that letter in the middle of a book, I was so surprised. You were so young then, and I... I thought you might be curious, but not this serious." Her voice trailed off, and she looked away, taking a deep breath. "And I... I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I never meant to make you feel that way."

I reached up to cup her cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath my thumb. "It's okay, you know. I understand. And honestly..." I paused, swallowing hard. "It's kind of flattering. To know that someone finds me attractive, even with my own... limitations."

"You were my queen of polio who visited my bedroom every night. I used to jerk my dick thinking you rub your polio foot sole over my dick."

Florence's face flushed at the memory, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I... I remember you used to be around me even after school. I never knew how much it excited you." She paused, swallowing hard. "And honestly, I never thought... I mean, I thought about it sometimes. Wanting someone to touch me like that, you know? To make me feel wanted again."

I leaned in closer, running my hand down her arm. "You're wanted, Florence. So wanted." I kissed her softly on the mouth, feeling the heat between us growing with each passing moment. "And I want you. Right here, right now. I want to make love to you. To show you just how much."

"Do you want to see how my polio leg is now?"

I felt a surge of anticipation as she asked me this. She'd always been so self-conscious about it, and here she was, offering to show it to me. My heart raced at the thought of touching her again, of feeling her soft skin beneath my fingers.

"What is polio really?" I asked her.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's a disease that affects the nervous system. Mostly, it attacks the legs. It can leave you paralyzed or weaken you permanently. In my case..." She shrugged, running her hand down her leg. "It just gave me this."

"How did you get it? Can you remember how it happened and developed in you?"

Florence's expression turned somber as she remembered. "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 too late. The disease had already attacked my spinal cord." She paused, her fingers tracing the scar on her leg. "They took me to the hospital, and for months, I was in and out of the ICU. There were surgeries and therapy, but..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "It didn't matter. The damage was done."

"So your left leg got attacked by it?"

Florence nodded. "Yes, mostly my left leg. It was the worst affected. But it didn't stop me from trying. I went through years of therapy, determined to walk again." She took a deep breath, her gaze distant as she remembered the struggle. "I had to learn how to walk on crutches, how to climb stairs, even how to dance. I used to read articles success of polio people, and I'd determined in my mind, pretending I was one of them."

"So, come closer young man, see how is my short, thin, crooked polio leg, foot, toes, arch, heel and foot sole."

I could feel my heart racing as she invited me closer. The anticipation was palpable, the air thick with desire. I moved forward, my gaze never leaving her leg as I carefully studied every inch of her. She was right; it was different from a normal leg, but it didn't detract from her beauty in any way. If anything, it made her even more alluring.

She started explaining every inch of her deformities she has in her polio left leg from foot, toes, arch, heel and to foot sole comparing with her normal right one in details.

"So, now, you have seen my ugly leg, are you still attracted to me?" She asked.

"Sure Flori." I said her with my voice steady and honest. I couldn't help but feel surge of admiration for her strength and resilience in showing me her leg.

As she talked, I found myself drawn to her even more. Her leg was different, yes, but it didn't define her. It was a part of her story, a testament to her courage and determination. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my heart racing in my chest. The way she spoke about her struggles, her triumphs... it was both heartbreaking and inspiring.

"So, young man, have you changed your mind?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with anticipation. "Do you still find me attractive?"

"Yes. now I want you to explain me every inch of your deformities you have in your polio left leg from foot, toes, arch, heel and to foot sole comparing with her normal right one in details."

As she talked, I found myself drawn to her even more. Her leg was different, yes, but it didn't define her. It was a part of her story, a testament to her courage and determination. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my heart racing in my chest. The way she spoke about her struggles, her triumphs... it was both heartbreaking and inspiring.

Then she stood up and dropped her skirt to show how short her leg as it is only half of the length of her normal leg.

"So, you see here, my young man, this is where my leg stops. I call it my ornamental limb, because just hanging and swinging in the air to fill the gap next to my normal right leg. It's what remains of my leg after polio has not let it grow. It's about one to one and half feet long."

Of course it aroused my inside feelings.

"And.. it's very sensitive as well young man. Sometimes, I too feel really sexy about it even though I never use it to walk or run as other women." She ran her hand over the pale, bare skin, wincing slightly. "And now I try to let it be attraction to keep me sexy to hype of living my life."

I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from her, transfixed by the vulnerability she revealed in sharing these intimate details. Her polio leg was indeed beautiful, but it was so much more than that. It was a symbol of her strength, her resilience, and her determination to find joy in life, even in the face of adversity.

"Why not you touch it young man?" Her invitation was anticipating. "Now its for you and fullfill this matured woman with your young spirit without no late."

My heart was pounding, my palms sweaty. I couldn't believe she was asking me this. Tentatively, I reached out and placed my hand on her polio leg, feeling the warmth of her skin, the softness of her skin. Her polio leg was indeed different from what I had imagined, but it was also so much more. It was a testament to her strength, her resilience, her determination to find beauty in the face of adversity.

"Your touch wets my pussy.."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel the heat rising between my legs as I continued to stroke her polio leg, feeling its smooth, warm skin beneath my fingers. It was the most intimate moment I'd ever experienced, and I knew that she was right: there was something incredibly erotic about her deformity. It made her seem so vulnerable, so human, yet also so strong and resilient.

"May I kiss your polio leg Mrs. Jones?"

Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip as she nodded. I leaned in, pressing my lips against the soft, warm skin of her polio leg. It felt so smooth beneath my mouth, and I could feel the steady beat of her heart beneath my lips. As I kissed her, I could sense her body tensing, her hands gripping the chair. She was losing control, giving herself over to the moment.