Leggy Lola

I will call my three year regular John. There's a joke in that, by the way, because although he is a nice guy and he treats me well, I don't enjoy the sex with him much. I don't fancy him. It's as simple as that. That makes him just a client. The other two year client, I will call him Graham. With him, I enjoy it. It is a pleasure to be in his company and a pleasure to have sex with him. He visits me about once every six weeks. I look forward to seeing him every time. He brings gifts, good wine and treats me like a princess and he fucks me beautifully. I won't go so far as to call it making love; after all, he pays me for it. And money can't buy me love, as the song goes. But it can keep love out of the way.

You want to know what are the clients like what do they want, why do they come to me? I will tell you. That's what you really want to know, isn't it? If they come to me, they come because they want to have an erotic experience with a woman who has one leg. They don't know what I look like when they decide to call me to make an appointment. I describe myself to them on the telephone, if I am getting the feeling that they will follow through and make an appointment. It's just a feeling, an intuition. I can tell by their voices.

When they arrive for the first time, many of them are surprised at how good looking I am. They seem to think that I won't be. I don't know why…and I am a liar! I can see it in their eyes and the way they react to me. When I go to the door, I'm never wearing my artificial limb. I always use a crutch. But I have had a few clients who wanted my artificial leg to feature, and if that's they want, then I give it to them.

Often they are a bit nervous and I put them at their ease. That's the mother in me! Some of them aren't. Some of them I imagine regularly use prostitutes and others come to me for what I am, to satisfy their curiosity. Others have the fetish. I don't think there are any other escorts who are amputees, so if that's what a man is looking for, then I'm the lady he has to come to. Some of those don't usually use prostitutes, and I think I'm the only one they have visited. They come to me for what they can't find in their regular life. And what men want from prostitutes is not much different from what they want from women they might meet or know in the ordinary life. But you can't always get what you want in your ordinary life, or you might not feel comfortable about wanting it or telling the person you want it from that you want it. That's one of the reasons why prostitutes exist.

And of course, often prostitutes' clients are married. The regulars I get to know and some of them well. The ones who only come once or twice don't usually tell me much about themselves. And if they do, they might not be telling the truth. It doesn't matter. They are as keen to retain their anonymity as I am.

First I sit them down and offer them a drink. We deal with the money bit as soon as they have sat down. It gets it out of the way and then I work to make them forget that money has changed hands. I have a drink with them and talk about myself a little; or I talk about Lola, and ask them a little about themselves. It helps to break the ice and to make them feel relaxed with me. Five minutes or so is usually enough time for me to figure them out. I'm dressed for work, of course. I usually wear a short skirt and a tight blouse with a few buttons left undone at the top, and I go for bold colours and a sexy style. The colours men tend to like. And I wear good and expensive underwear; usually red or black. That's bra and panties, or a basque, and I always wear suspenders. I have them especially made for what there is of my left leg.

After we have chatted a little and things are coming along, and I‘ve dealt with the ‘it's ok to have a fetish for a women's disability' bit, if I felt I had to; I ask them what they want to do with me.

What do I offer, you ask? Well, sex of course, and mutual masturbation, mutual oral, kissing, and I do anal, and what I call ‘worship' of my stump. I've never had a client who didn't want that as part of his experience. They usually all want sex, oral and the usual, though not all of them want anal sex. I also do mild bondage and watersports, but only a few want those.

If I think it's necessary, I come around to the topic of disability and sex. Some of them are still bothered about the fact that they desire a one legged woman. They know what they have come to see me for, but they still need a bit of reassurance. I tell them that we should not worry too much about why we desire what we desire, because we will probably never understand completely anyway. Desire is a mystery. It's one of the things in life that just is. And I think that living out the fantasy is a good way of dealing with it, if it's experienced as something that needs to be dealt with. And I also tell them that just because I'm disabled, it does not mean that I don't enjoy being desired, or that I don't have desires of my own.

The moment when I mention that I have desires too is always a good moment to get things moving onto the next stage.

I had a guy come a few weeks ago for the first time. He was exactly the type I'm talking about now. I will tell you about that; it will make it more, er, personal! He was around thirty, so one of my younger clients. Nice looking guy and very polite, but as nervous as hell. I didn't even have to chat with him to see how he felt about being there. I think he was the kind of guy who would be nervous around any woman. He said he wasn't married, and I believed him!

Anyway, talking to him, I saw that he was hung about his fetish for disabled women, but he got more comfortable as I explained my take on it to him. And of course, he had already been thinking it through himself; otherwise he would not have looked for me and then called, and actually come for an appointment.

The thing is; I like to be a little bit dominant sometimes. I enjoy the power I have in the meetings I have with clients, and of course especially the shy, less confident ones. I don't offer a domination service, but it comes out sometimes in the dynamic. And that day it came out!

I led into things in my usual way. I steered the conversation to the bit where I tell them that I have desires too; and if I think they need it to get going themselves, I tell them that I like them and throw into a bit of dirty talk too. I asked him

‘What do you think I desire?'

He said, ‘I don't know.'

He was sitting in an armchair and I was on the sofa opposite. So I said to him, ‘if you come over here, I‘ll show you.'

It usually works, but he just froze. Well, that's not in the script! I mean, the sofa is the place to get started, and that's why I sit there. And after all, they should come to me; they're the ones who've got both of their legs! But he was just not going to move. I had to rescue the situation, so I got up and went over to him.

Normally, what I do is tell them that I bet they've got a really nice cock and ask them if they will let me have a look at it, and then I undo their trousers and take it out. They are almost always already hard, so I just start to stroke it for a bit and then I ask them if they would like to see my pussy. They never say no!

I sit back on the sofa and turn round towards them so that they can see properly, and I pull up my skirt the rest of the way and pull my panties aside so that they can see my pussy. I always pull them aside with my right hand and towards my right leg, so that they see it right next to my stump. Some of them almost shoot their load when I do that!

I let them have a nice look and then I start to touch myself. I tell you, I have a great pussy! She has nice, prominent lips and a nice clit that protrudes very fetchingly! And I always keep her shaved.

Then I stop and invite them to touch her. They finger me for a little while and I start to masturbate them. Then, when things are really moving, I either tell them it's time to go to the bedroom, if they've said they want to do it there; or if they said they wanted it in the living room, I tell them it's time for them to get undressed. Of course, I help them along; play with their cock and all when they're getting their kit off, and at the same time I take off my blouse and skirt, so that I'm down to my underwear. Then I invite them to undo my bra for me, and take off my panties, or leave them on, if they prefer.

Well, with the shy guy, that's where we had got to and he was getting more relaxed, but I just knew he was going to come too quickly, and it spoils it. It spoils it for them and it spoils it for me, because I have to go all the way back to the beginning again to build up tension between us.

I went down on him, as I usually do at that point, and I thought to myself, this guy will be ok; he's probably only had a cope of women in his life and they would have been decent girls; so I decided that I would do it without a condom and take him all the way. Normally only my regulars get that and one or to others who have been a few times. Then he would relax more and things would be fine. He had a nice cock; thick, but not too long, and with a smooth, round head. And he was really clean. As soon as I had him in my mouth, he started to sigh deeply and move about; pushing himself toward me. But he didn't put his hand on the back of my hand and hold me there. What a gentleman! I hate it when men do that. It makes me want to say to them; ‘it's all right, I‘m gonna swallow it, but now I don't want to.'

It took about a minute! I was sucking him really deeply into my mouth and he tensed up, and then he spurted loads of it into my mouth; I mean loads. He must have been saving it up for weeks! But I'm a professional and I swallowed the lot.

I looked up at him and he was in another world. Poor boy; but I teased him a bit. I said to him

‘You should have taken care of yourself this morning.'

He let out an embarrassed laughed and then he was fine.

It was his first time, after all, and he was so nervous, so I led the way all through from there and I gave him what most of my clients like.

I had to get things going again quickly though, so I got straight to the point; or should I say stump. I invited him to touch it. He was not so nervous anymore, but he was still a bit tentative. I wanted to get him to be a bit more raunchy. Sweet guy, I liked him and if I tuned him up right, I thought I was going to enjoy having him.

He reached out and put just his fingertips on it. He started to get hard again straight away. I asked if it felt good and he said that it did. He got braver as he got more excited and soon he was stroking it with both hands. He asked me if I liked it and I said

‘I like the way it makes your cock so hard.'

Then I took him in my hand and started to wank him. I stroked his cock for a couple of minutes, nice and slowly, and he kept on rubbing and caressing my stump. Then I stopped and told him to lie back on the sofa. I got up and holding onto the back of the sofa with my hand, I leaned down and started to run my stump over his cock. I was wearing my stocking and they made it move over him nice and smoothly. I'm well practiced at that! And he loved it! I told him to watch and with my other hand I started to play with my pussy for him and every now and then I slipped down a little, so that it would brush against his cock. He was twitching and throbbing like crazy.

Then, as my juices ran onto my hand and made it wet and sticky, I stopped rubbing my stump on his cock and smeared some of my juices on it. Then I returned to rubbing it over his cock. I ran my stump up and down his cock, all the way from top to bottom, really slowly, and then I went a little faster and then a little faster. He was getting very excited again and I needed to slow him down, so I stopped, and told him that I wanted him to lick my pussy.

I sat down on the sofa and leaned back. He sat up and moved round and knelt between my legs. And then he got down there and started to lick me. He was good. I gently told him what to do at times, but he didn't need much encouragement. I told him to suck my clit and he was great; not too rough and not too gentle. Then, when he sensed I was getting really hot, he pushed his finger into me, all the way, and then a second. I was nicely stretched and his fingers in my pussy and his tongue on my clit brought me to orgasm.

I paused just for a moment to regain myself and then I told him that I wanted him to fuck me. I had a condom ready on the coffee table and I took it and tore off the wrapper and asked to him stand up on his knees. His cock was sticking out like a pole and I leaned forward and licked around the head a few times and gave it a couple of nice slow sucks up and down. Then I put the condom between my lips and used my mouth to roll it down his cock.

He was ready and so was I, so I lay back and pulled him towards me and I smiled at him and said

‘Come on, baby, fuck me. I'm the kind of woman every man dreams of: the woman who just can't close her legs.'

The look he had in his eyes. He wanted me so much. It made me feel great.

I mentioned Stephen above. He is my best friend and the man I would have liked to marry, in another version of my life. Things did not turn out that way, though. In this life, he is still my best friend, but he is one of my clients. How did that happen? Well…

We have known each other for about eight years. I met him through work about two years after the accident. He works for a firm that uses the firm I work for as a consultant. I was part of the team that was sent to work with his firm and he was the head of the team that we were to work with. I fancied him the moment I saw him. I was just beginning to recover after the accident. I mean emotionally and psychologically. It took that long. But I was still struggling with all of that. And on top of all of my problems, he was married, of course. He was the first man I had even felt confident enough to fancy and he wasn't available.

What made it worse was that I knew that he was attracted to me too; and just as spontaneously. We were together at work a lot and we chatted a great deal and we got to be close. But then we got to the point where something was going to happen. So we went out together for an evening, knowing that it was not a date, but a date to discuss why we could not go on a date. We chose a quiet place, because it was going to be a long and private conversation. We talked about everything; the feelings we had for each other and what we were going to do with them, his wife and his marriage, and about me and my accident and how I was still trying to put myself back together.

A friendship was born that evening, and it has been worth much more than the brief fling that was the only thing we could have had. But when I got home, I cried. He is still the only man I have ever cried for, and it was the first time in two years that I had cried from someone other than myself.

We met every month or so and went out. The feelings were still there, but we had decided against it, but he never told his wife about me and I didn't tell friends what I was doing on the evenings that I met him.

Years went by, and he and his wife had children and I had relationships that didn't work out. And so I decided to start escorting. And all along we met every month or so. We shared everything. He was the one I turned to whenever I had a problem and I was the one he came to when he had one. But I never told him about Lola and all of that. I wanted it to remain a secret, because it would have lost me my job, and a lot more besides, if it had come out. That was just normal self-interest. With him, it was different. I did not want him to know; simply that.

Then one day, three years ago, and a year after I invented Lola and she got to work, he called me and told me that there was something that he wanted to talk to me about. It was so private, he said, that he had never told anyone in his life, and that he had decided to do something about it. I had no idea what it could be, but when I found out, it really wasn't all that surprising; not to me, anyway.

We met as usual and went for dinner and it took him ages to come to the point.

‘Just tell me,' I said.

‘Well,' he hesitated and stumbled and finally said, ‘you remember in the beginning, when we met. Well, part of the attraction I felt for you was because of your leg.'

I was a bit annoyed, but I said, ‘don't worry. I have dealt with all of that now. I used to hate the fact that some men were excited by it, but now I accept it. And now I wish I had sorted myself out more quickly, because if I had, would have got laid a lot more than I have in the last ten years.'

It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't laugh.

‘Every since I was a teenager, I have got aroused whenever I saw a woman with a leg missing. I don't know why; I just do. Anyway, one of the reasons I didn't allow myself to have an affair with you was because of that. I didn't want to do it with you because your amputation excited me.'

I felt like I was with a hung up client, but I didn't say anything.

‘I think that was a bigger reason than not wanting to betray my wife.

‘Anyway,' I said, ‘have you met any other women like me; had an affair, sorted it out?' He didn't like the term ‘sorted it out', and he gave me a hurt and angry look.

‘No,' he went on, ‘but recently I saw an ad on the net for an escort who is an amputee, and she works not too far away. I've decided to visit her. I couldn't tell anyone else, only you, but not only because you are an amputee yourself.'

I was about to say, ‘then, why,' but I stopped myself, and I think he was too absorbed in his own words to notice the look of horror that passed over my face. Or maybe he did see it, but just thought it was shock that he would think of doing such a thing.

‘I wanted your advice,' he said, very sheepishly now.

‘It seems to me that you've already decided. But tell me something, have you ever visited an escort before?'

‘Yes,' he said, ‘over the years, maybe five or six times.'

I must have not looked shocked, because he said,

‘You don't disapprove?'

‘No,' I said, ‘but I admit, I'm surprised.'

I was. Many men use escorts, but I had not suspected him. And I reckon I have gained a nose for them by now.

‘I can't advise you on this,' I told him, ‘but I am not going to judge you, even if you will be betraying your wife if you do it.'

‘I don't know,' he said, ‘but I feel like if I don't do it, once in my life, I will regret it.'

‘Can you be sure that you will be able to do it only once?'

‘I don't know. It will have to be only once. I will have to make sure.'

I had the advantage of him for the moment and I said

Well, if you do visit this woman, make sure your wife does not find out.'

And then I added ‘but that shouldn't be too difficult; I mean you've been meeting me all these years without her knowing.'

But really it was he who had the advantage of me, even if he didn't know it.

What was I going to do? I got home and I went crazy, but one thing was for sure. I could not let him make an appointment and turn up and find that I am Lola.

I thought of giving it up, but I didn't want to. I thought of sending Lola on a holiday, but then he would just wait until she came back. I thought of running away, but I had nowhere to go. In the end, I decided to tell him and if he was still willing to go through with his visit to Lola, then all would be well.

All would be well, because now I suddenly believed that I could go through with it. I still fancied him. It was deep down inside me, but the thought of him and Lola together excited me. It wouldn't be like a normal visit from a client, but I was sure I could pretend to myself enough that it was. It would be a test of how good a whore Lola really was. Could she really switch off? And it would be Helen's chance to fuck Stephen at last. But I still had to tell him.