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A Chance & Coincidental Encounter – Alana & George
George had always enjoyed camping and seeing the sites. In a year when he planned to go half time at the university, his idea was to travel more over an extended annual season. He had fantasized how great it would be to have a companion for such journeys but as fate had arranged for him to be a widower 10 years ago at age 45 he had become accustomed to not holding back any travel plans because he would be a solo traveler.
Finding the best way to spend extended periods on the road was a question he was currently investigating. He had bought a new camper for his truck and was exploring some of the back roads of BC to get the feel of what life in a camper was like. This first trip of the season had a Railway History and “Service Club” theme. He was exploring many of the old rail trails in southern BC and at any town worthy enough to having a Legion or Eagles or Elks, he was visiting.
In the back of George’s mind was the faint hope that at one of those social gathering places he would meet a similar minded female who loved travel, had the time to do it and was interested in some of the same things that George was. After all, at a healthy and fit 50 years of age, George sure wasn’t going to be meeting anyone in a Night Club or Singles Bar.
So it was with virtually no expectations that he found a Royal Canadian Legion in Butchart, a major rail exchange point on the South Eastern line. He parked his unit and signed in. With him was his usual Journal for chronicling the day and his ever present sketch book.
As always, George sat at the bar. It was easier there to start conversations with strangers and to update and expand his Journals. He hadn’t downed the first slug of his frosted beer when a tap on his shoulder was asking “what have you been doing since the last reunion?”
It was Lloyd Burroughs, a fellow classmate from undergraduate days at University who had moved to Butchart many years ago.
“Come and have a beer with a few friends and tell us some stories,” Lloyd offered.
George was led to a table of 4 other folks who were introduced as Lloyd’s wife, a couple they knew, and a pleasingly attractive, mid 40’s, probable divorcee.
“Interesting,” thought George as he pulled out a chair beside the most interesting member of the group. Not superstitious in any way, he did think for a moment that this might be an omen. As he was pulling his chair in to the table, his feet tangled with something under the table. Looking down to clear the obstruction, George saw a pair of well worn forearm crutches, the kind that people with experience on crutches use.
“Oops, I’m sorry. Those are mine. I’m Alana, in case you forgot after that mass introduction. I’ve had to use a pair of those for the past 10 years instead of having a left leg. I’m not sure if the trade was as good a deal as promised,” she smiled into George’s eyes.
George couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Beside the fact that he had just been introduced to an attractive, possibly single woman, that woman was an amputee! George was a “devotee” and had for most of his life harbored the ultimate fantasy of a one legged soul mate. Was this her sitting beside him in the Butchart Legion?
George had “rehearsed” this moment a gazillion times over the last 6 years since his wife had died. He knew not to start blurting out questions about how? Why? What if? What’s it like when ….?” and so on. George KNEW that he wanted an attraction to a person….and if that person had a stump and a leg, that would be the ultimate bonus.
Conversation at the table was hectic for awhile but George was able to determine that Alana was a published writer whose publishing earnings along with a sizeable payout 10 years ago, recompense for the death of her husband and the loss of her right leg just above the knee, today earns her a respectable income. He also ardahan escort learned that she was an avid gardener, amateur historian of BC matters, downhill skier, epicure, paddler, Mother of two independent daughters in their early 20’s, and obviously a great conversationalist.
In the short time they talked, Alana heard about George’s travel dreams, his research at the University, his interest in so many of the same interests that were Alana’s passions except for down hill skiing and the fact that he had two grown sons. There was nothing to be done about the children but even in the skiing, they both at least shared an interest in winter. There was chemistry in the air and George realized how attracted to this woman he was. The best part was that the attraction seemed to be mutual.
Time flew by and the couple who were Alana’s ride asked if she would like to go with them? Hardly missing a beat, she nudged George’s knee with her right stump no less, smiled into his eyes and said, “I’m not sure if George wants another drink but I do and I sense that he’s the kind of guy who could never let a lady drink alone. Am I right George?”
As a couple, no two could ever have been so alone in the midst of a half full room of people than these two. That first cocktail led to another but as that one was disappearing, Alana asked for her ride home.
“Heck no. Don’t go get your truck, let’s walk together,” she responded to George’s offer of a valet service.
George settled up the tab and helped Alana to her foot. He bent to pick up her crutches. While bent he got an insanely close look at her remaining leg. It looked very chic issuing down from the right side of a navy blue business dress suit. It was finished with a traditional black loafer with ½” platform and 2 inch heel. For the first time he was able to see that Alana’s left leg had been amputated half way between her absent knee and her thigh. Its shape, just barely visible, poked shortly from the skirt hem. It seemed to be well sculpted and round and showed no visible scarring. A smooth and satiny sheen suggested that Alana had her stump clad in a nylon stocking or shortened panty hose.
Careful to not offer help when none was needed, George tried to send a signal to Alana with a hand gently placed on the small of her back that he was right with her and leading her to his truck. At the same time he was able to lag behind a bit and watch her movement as she swung through her crutches.
George was a student of women on crutches and was impressed with the smoothness of her movement. The cycle of lifting her crutches and falling forward, into and through them, was done in one smooth motion. Each of her swings flowed from one to another instead of those of the more amateur crutch user who lurches and stutters through the cycle. It was so attractive to see her stump hanging straight down and quivering ever so slightly with each forward crutch placement.
“Well this baby is a bit bigger and higher off the ground than the 4 X 4 I drive,” Alana remarked as George reached for the passenger handle. “Ah great, there’s a hand pull. Where shall I put my crutches?” George pulled the passenger seat forward and carefully placed her forearms in the jump seat behind. He noticed how the crutch handles had leather wraps that showed signs of being well used.
Taking little hops on her right leg, Alana grabbed the open door with her right hand, placed her left on the seat and pushed upward. She swung her stump up on to the seat and seated her bum. In a practiced movement, she deftly lifted her long right leg inside the truck. Her skirt stretched tight around her leg and as if to solve that, she pushed down with her left hand, grabbed the hand hold on the front window frame, pushed forward with her right leg and adjusted her unique body into the seat. George closed her door as Alana slid across to unlock his door.
“This artvin escort is nice of you George but I’m sensing that it isn’t a big chore for you,” Alana smiled as George climbed up behind the driver’s wheel. “Your attention is appreciated and very nice sir. I’m not used to a lot of male attention since I traded in my leg for this stump!”
“You are correct in assuming I would be pleased to drive an attractive woman home after sharing a few stories and drinks with her,” he replied. “And speaking for myself, I don’t often get the opportunity to meet many attractive, available woman such as yourself, let alone, ones who are so interesting and interested in things like telling stories and enjoying a drink. So I’ll be right up front here and tell you that I find you very attractive and interesting. As for your stump, I have no idea what it’s like but I think your one long leg is very beautiful.”
“Well I sure don’t meet a lot of interesting new men here in Butchart. That’s part of the reason I moved here 10 years ago after the accident. As an amputee, I wasn’t really sure how I would feel about being an oddity everywhere I went so I opted to move to a place where I had some roots and people might be able to take me as a person instead of a one-legged middle aged woman. But I need to ask why you don’t seem bothered by my rather unique physical state?”
“Well, I really am not hung up at all by the fact that you have one leg. If anything, I find the way you look on your one leg to be very sensual and attractive. I guess I am one of those males out there who see one leg more as an attraction than a detraction. Over the years I have learned that I am what some call a “devotee,” George explained.
“Hmmmmm, I’ve heard about people like you.” That must be a bit of baggage to carry around, perhaps even harder to handle than the situation I find myself in” she jokingly quipped.
“Unfortunately, most men I meet aren’t so attracted and they sort of leave me alone after they realize I have limitations and differences. I’ve never met one who actually liked my lack of a leg. You might be interested that what you see and seem to so enjoy is actually my second stump. You see, 10 years ago when the accident happened, my left leg was severely mangled at mid-calf. The Doctors felt they could save my knee so my leg was amputated just below it. That seemed to work for about 4 months but then I started having problems and in the end, about 6 years ago, I had to have a re-amputation here,” she illustrated by pulling up her skirt fully exposing her long shiny loaf-like-thigh of a left leg. They did a really nice job in forming this didn’t they?”
“Wow, that’s a story and a half. Actually, I don’t see you as lacking a leg. From what I see, you have one apparently beautiful leg and what I see beside it is something rare and unique. Its rarity is exciting, desirable and very attractive! You have a stump, a long remnant and hint of a former leg.” George reached over and cupped his right hand over the rounded tip of her abbreviated leg. “This allows you to do things that a two legged woman can’t. It is something more, rather than less, in my eyes.” He softly caressed the firm cool, silky stump resting on the car seat.
“Now where are we going, it’s still pretty early?” inquired George.
“I’m thinkin’ of a little dinner if you would care to join me?
Dinner was totally wonderful. The two clicked on so many things. They laughed, they shared stories and they sent signals back and forth that each could be “taken advantage of” if things worked out right.
Not surprisingly, Alana suggested that the two return to her place. “I’ve some liqueurs and lots of the songs we were talking about tonight.”
“I’d like that a lot,” George smiled. “Hmmm, I’d better to state right here that my intentions might be less than honorable, as the prudes in our world say.”
“Well, that sounds ataköy escort downright interesting. I think you had better get this girl home before she dies of anticipation.”
George closed the door to Alana’s totally fetching home. It was a post and beam construction finished naturally and with white stucco walls. It was a split 2 floor so that the stair cases were limited to only 6 steps each. A well maintained picket fence and neat, colourful, well kept grounds set off the house in a well maintained lot. He reached to grasp her arm and pulled her to his chest. She hopped the short distance between them giving George a good look at her bouncing stump. The two were well suited in the height department as well as all the other matches. George was about 6′ and Alana was a solid 5’9″ in the short heel she was wearing.
They kissed, slowly and lightly at first. Alana’s breath quickened and she flushed at the feel of George’s hands slipping off her jacket and rubbing up and down her back. She reached her hands up to his face and stroked it softly leaving herself wavering on her leg inside George’s hugging arms.
“I think I want to change into something more comfortable than this “go to Banker outfit” but I also want to feel your hands and your lips some more.”
She let her crutches drop and pulled his face to hers and entered passionately into a slow, languid, moist kiss. It was electric between the two. George felt urges in his groin and Alana was simply tingling from the gentle touch of his hands. Her skin felt rosy and she felt sweet juices warming the spot where her leg and stump came together. When they unlocked their lips for a breath of air, they leaned back into each others’ arms and quietly gazed into each others’ eyes.
“The coffee and liqueurs are in the kitchen. Why don’t you get something organized in that department and I’ll go change and join you back on the swing out back?”
George had hardly had time to find the coffee maker when he felt the whisper of Alana’s lips on his neck urging him on so that they could settle down together amid the cushions on the garden swing set. George felt himself being turned around to face Alana’s beaming face.
“Boy, you’re a slow worker,” she breathed smilingly into his neck. “Here I’ve already changed and you haven’t got any coffee ready yet?” Not letting him respond, she rested her crutches against the counter and pulled him to her so she could nibble his chin and cheeks then engaged her lips with his.
“Kinda not fair asking you to do all this stuff. Let me get it while you go find some music.”
George quickly found Marc Knopler and Red Ryder CDs but while trying to figure out how to play them, he became more interested in watching this beautiful woman hop around her kitchen. She had changed into a loose white, cotton peasant blouse and he could see that she had left any relevant undergarments back in her bedroom. She had doffed her skirt in favour of a pair of Harem pants with the left leg tailored to loosely hold her mid-thigh stump. On her foot she had put on a low wedge brown sandal.
George could literally hear his heart beating as he pressed “start” and moved quickly into the kitchen where he wrapped his arms around her from behind and began swaying in time to the music. Alana twisted to face him and the two pressed together and gently rubbed each other into a heightened state of arousal.
That first evening never made it to the pillows on the outdoor swing set. Instead, the coffee was forgotten and the two found themselves sinking slowly to the soft carpet in front of the fire place which Alana remembered to switch on before she stretched out on the floor and pulled George to her bosom.
Their connection was remarkable. As if the two had known each other for years, the two communicated through their touches, their tongues, their silences and their gazes. It was after the two climaxed into a place where pleasure didn’t stop that George stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom with Alana in his arms where the two stripped naked and clutched each other like they had just found each other after years of being lost.
That was, of course, the case.
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