Early Tuesday evening, the setting sun shines though the window. Mike stares at the computer screen. A web page for a dating site lists several women and he reads the description for each, none of them his 'dream woman', none are missing a leg. Either leg would be fine, somewhere above the knee, maybe both.
Donna had been like that, one leg, after a car wreck years before he met her. The first month was better than he could have imagined, frequent sex, playing with her stump, her suggestively teasing him by wearing short skirts without panties. She was average looking; still the missing leg was enough to keep him interested even with the extensive scaring. At the end of the relationship, everything came crashing down around him and she told him he was to stay away.
He has always been in the hunt for someone like Donna, looking at each woman on sidewalks or at shopping malls to see if they might be a missing leg. He rarely sees anyone. If he does, they are with another man. A lucky man he often thinks to himself. If not with a man, they have other women with them, probably just friends, or they appear to be unapproachable.
His ad on the dating site is only a week old. There have been a few nibbles from women halfway around the world, too far away, too old, too wrong.
He understands the risks of Internet dating, that many are just boys in Nigeria working with a dozen others in a small cyber cafe, all posing as beautiful women using photos stolen from modeling sites to lure gullible me into part with their money, and all working for some mobster. He had been one of those men buying into words promising him heavenly nonstop sex. It had cost him a lot of money.
He keeps his email program running, automatically checking for new messages every five minutes. The messenger program is up and logged in just in case. A few IM's arrive from women hustling and wanting him to pay to see them on web cams.
An IM pops up and a ding rings though the room.
'LanaOneLeg: Mike, saw your ad. Maybe we should talk. Lana'
'MikeLovesU: Why?'
'LanaOneLeg: I'm an amputee.'
'MikeLovesU: Really?'
'LanaOneLeg: Left leg, short stump. I'm 28 and pretty.'
'MikeLovesU: Oh?'
'LanaOneLeg: If you're not interested....'
She logs out.
"Fuck!" he yells aloud. A quick search of the dating site yields no hits for such a user. A swelling in his underwear calls for attention. His hand slips under the waistband of his jeans and grips the shaft, stroking slowly as he clicks on other ads.
More IM's from web cam women scroll past on the messenger window. They are annoying but easily ignored. He opens pictures of amputee women to help maintain the level of excitement as he strokes without wanting to come just yet.
The e-mail program dings and he clicks on the new message.
'Mike, sorry you didn't seem interested. I really did like your ad and I really am who I said I was. Here is a picture of me. I'm around for a while. IM me if you want. Lana.'
"Nah-h," he groans, looking at the picture of a lovely woman with long brown hair sitting in a white bikini, the right leg slightly pulled up against her with her chin resting on the knee, the hands loosely gripping the ankle, the left leg ending in a short and nicely formed stump. "This can't be real." A fingertip rubs the picture over the stump as if trying to feel.
'MikeLovesU: How do I know this is really you?'
'LanaOneLeg: Trust me. :-)'
'MikeLovesU: Can't, been burned before.'
'LanaOneLeg: Me too, how do I know you are real?'
'MikeLovesU: Don't know. Guess we could assume we are both real.'
'LanaOneLeg: Good.'
'MikeLovesU: Where do you live?'
'LanaOneLeg: Rockland, and you?'
'MikeLovesU: Benton, a few miles from you.'
He reaches into his jeans and strokes a few times realizing if she is real, she lives near.
'LanaOneLeg: Let me call you. I want to hear your voice.'
Mike IM's his phone number and the cell phone rings thirty seconds later.
"Lana?"
"Hi Mike."
Her voice is sweet and the call is clear without static, unlike the one from the Nigerian person where he could hardly understand the person.
"I'm overwhelmed."
"Me too. I've not had much luck with the Internet dating thing."
"Wait just a second," he says, and then runs out the front door.
He takes a picture of himself holding the 'Benton Gazette' in front of his car with the license plate visible. As he walks back inside, he e-mails it to Lana.
"I just e-mailed you a picture of me. Hope it is enough to convince you I'm real and live in Benton."
"I see the newspaper in your hands. Not like the 'Benton Gazette' is as available as the 'New York Times'." She laughs.
"Yeah, not like everyone knows where Rockland and Benton are. So, when do we get to meet?"
"I fly out of town in the morning on a business trip. Just a few days."
"What do you do?"
"A human resources consultant, mostly with small companies that are trying to expand. And you?"
"Software engineer."
"A nerd?" she asks.
"Uh-huh. Hope you don't mind."
"Heavens no. I like the nerdy type. What are you after in a woman, other than a stump?" She laughs.
"I like what I saw in your picture. Are you really 'that' beautiful?"
"You flatter me." She pauses. "I like to think that I'm at least that pretty." She snickers. "You're not so bad either, hard to believe you're thirty-six. You look much younger. Can't wait to see you in person."
"You have me panting. When can we meet?"
"How about this weekend?"
"Three days of torment from now." He laughs. "Guess if we can't before then."
They arrange to meet at "Maxwell's Saloon' Friday after work then he closes the phone.
"Holy shit!" he groans, still looking at her picture. "Jackpot," he mumbles aloud."
-
Jean leans against Tom as he washes the dishes. She rubs against him, her bare breasts pressing into his back. Her lips peck his neck a few times before stepping back. He turns and dries his hands then holds her armless shoulders.
"Damn-n," he drawls. "You are full of surprises tonight."
"Well-l, Lana and I have this business trip tomorrow. I thought we might play around some." She snickers as she twists and turns, modeling her naked body for him. She nibbles her lower lip seductively then grins.
"You know how I love it when you don't have your arms."
"Getting low on the stuff in the blue bottle, but Lana and I have more on order."
Lana and Jean work together and found about the other's interest in pretending to be amputees recently. A photograph of Lana without a leg accidentally fell from her purse at work right in front of Jean. She had found the potion in the blue bottle a month before.
After the incident with the photograph and Lana telling her about the blue bottle, Jean quickly started using the potion, though only around Tom at home. She had known of his fascination with women missing arms since soon after they married the year before. As they discussed his 'secret', she gradually explained hers. While Lana's use of the potion seems limited to the left leg high on the thigh, Jean is willing to be missing anything. She prefers to be missing one leg like Lana.
"Can't run out of that." His hand roams between her thighs as they spread a little. A finger digs deep quickly becoming coated with her nectar.
"Maybe I could talk you into eating my pussy," she whispers.
"You think?" he teases before pulling his finger away and sucking the digit clean.
She turns and thrusts her hips towards him with a small shake. "See ya in bed, big boy."
-
Wednesday morning, Lana and Jean walk along the concourse of the airport towards the gate for the flight. Each carries a small canvas overnight bag and a purse hangs from the shoulder. Each wear business dresses just covering the knees, white blouses, and moderately high heal shoes.
"Had some luck on the dating web site last night," Lana says as they move out of the crowd on the moving sidewalk.
"Will you tell him about the blue stuff?"
"He's looking for someone missing a leg. I sent him the picture of me in the white bikini."
"I love that one. I'd date you if I got it in my e-mail." Jean laughs.
"Yeah, I hate having both legs after being that way."
"Last night, I had both arms off for a few hours. Tom sure gets aroused when I'm that way." She giggles. They walk in silence for a while. "If we can't get more?"
"That's exactly why I keep a full bottle in reserve."
