Negotiable Companionship Ch. 01

'Wouldn't you like to get rid some of your own clothes first?'

He flung away his jacket, and hurriedly got to work on his shirt's buttons, his eyes still fixed on Violet.

She used the opportunity to put on a little show, slowly running her stump first through her long purple hair and then all over her body. John Smith was down to his briefs now. They bulged visibly, and he eagerly knelt on the bed, his legs to the left and right of Violet's prosthetics.

'That's not all,' she said with a mischievous look.

John Smith swallowed nervously, and he pulled down his underpants.

'Wow,' Violet exclaimed automatically, looking at the erect manhood.

In her experience every man was more than willing to go along with that particular assessment.

John Smith put his hands on the plastic legs.

'May I...?'

Violet nodded.

She was surprised, he seemed to remember exactly how to operate the prosthetics. They were made up of two main parts, and first John Smith unlocked the safety, and there was an audible click. He pulled of both of outer parts, first the left then the right, revealing a pair of liners, stump socks with added plastic bottoms and pins, which connected them to the outer legs.

'Well done, you're great at this,' she said, and wriggled her leg stumps up and down.

He carefully grasped her left stump with both arms, and peeled of the liner. Violet sighed with relief as she felt the pressure lessen, and her stump could breath again. He did the other one a little faster, and soon Violet was entirely without prosthetics, lying on her back with her stumps in the air, feeling not entirely unlike a turtle.

John Smith's erect member was twitching now. He was not the first man who seemed to love her stumps. Violet used her only elbow to move back a little, and John Smith followed along on all fours, until Violet reached the pillow with her head.

'Those look delicious,' she said, nodding towards the strawberries. 'I'd love to try one.'

He reached for the bowl of fruit on the night stand, and took a single, chocolaty strawberry. Violet put her stump on his arm, and guided it towards her mouth. She took a tiny bite. These were a lot better than the Daiquiri in her mind, sweet, ripe and soft, they'd really been lucky. She kissed his hand, before closing her mouth entirely around the strawberry as well as John Smith's fingers. She pulled her head back very, very slowly, and could see John Smith quivering with excitement. She chewed and swallowed her strawberry.

'Mmm, delicious. You might want to try one as well, they are amazing.'

He didn't look too excited, but then Violet used her arm stump to pat her belly button, and John Smith brightened up as he understood. He carefully placed a fruit right on Violet's tummy, and began to kiss the area around her naval so gently that it tickled. He bit into the fruit, and Violet could see goosebumps on his arms. He'd soon finished the strawberry, hardly chewing after each bite, and continued to kiss her stomach, moving up and up, his hands already behind Violet's back, feeling for her bra. Violet simply leant back, and allowed John Smith to caress her body.

'Take it off,' she said before he could hesitate again.

She stopped herself from looking too amused upon seeing at his fumbly attempts. He'd certainly been better at the prosthetics, after quite a few tries he finally got the bra unhooked using both hands. Clearly relieved he took it off, and was immediately mesmerised by the sight. He bent down, and fondled and kissed the large, soft breasts, feeling the smooth skin and the hard nipples, pushing them together and burying his face in them. Violet had to laugh, and she slung her arm around her client in a sort of half-hug.

'Yes, just like that,' she said dutifully.

She managed to reach his erect member with a leg stump, and decided to surprise him a little by playing around with it. He moaned, and without being asked one hand grabbed the other leg stump, squeezing and stroking it just like her breasts.

He paused, already breathing heavily, and his hands moved onto Violet's hips.

'Go ahead,' she said, and John Smith pulled down her panties.

She moved her arm stump across his chest, stopping just short of his crotch.

'Want to kiss it?'

He approached slowly, Violet knew he was taking in her scent, coming to terms with her presence. Carefully he brushed her vagina. It was clean shaven, smooth, and it slowly reacted to his touch. He slid a finger in between the labia, and natural lubricant eased the movement. He kissed it. Left and right, then a careful lick, before a longer, deeper kiss that finally got Violet closer to the appropriate mood.

'Come up,' she said simply, and was delighted when he gave her another kiss down below before moving on.

He leant over her now.

'Bottom drawer,' she said, and obediently he opened a wooden drawer in the night stand, finding condoms and lube.

'Pick one.'

He smiled nervously, took a banana-flavoured condom and tore the packaging.

'Nice,' she said.

He grasped his rigid shaft, and carefully slid the rubber tube down its length. A potent smell of artificial sweetness came over them.

'I want it nice and lubed up, okay,' Violet said.

John smith picked up a plastic bottle of lubricant, and popped open the cap. He squeezed far too much into his hand, and applied it generously.

'Good, nicely done, up and down,' she watched him, nodding approvingly.

'Good. Now come closer,' Violet said.

He shuffled back, and carefully pressed his body against Violet's, and she kissed his lips. When he was low enough she placed her leg stumps to either side of his lubed up manhood, and pressed them together. Soft moans.

She stroked a little more, and John Smith squirmed and quivered under her touch. Violet let her stumps fall back down, and spread them invitingly. She felt the tip, and heard a sharp intake of breath. One of John Smith's hands grasped Violet's arm stump, holding tightly. He went in just a little further, and Violet knew he already had to focus. He didn't want to end it to soon.

With his other hand, he brushed aside Violet's hair, and caressed her cheek. He pushed again, and Violet moaned loudly, as though she had trouble taking his size. Encouraged, John Smith thrust and thrust again, every time eliciting a louder, breathier moan.

'Yes, yes! Faster!'

Violet was building up to the finale of her performance. She couldn't just scream at the top of her lungs from the beginning. No. This was a question of slowly building up tension.

Each time she screamed it had to be louder than the last, each time she had to arch her back a little further, to look a little more like conflicting feelings of pain and utter happiness were colliding inside of her.

John Smith was nearly there now, and Violet was going to accompany him until the very end. He was breathing rapidly, and his thrusts had sped up almost as much. The hand holding down Violet's stump felt like it was cramping, and his entire body was wound up with immense tension.

Violet pressed herself against him, enveloping him one last time, taking him even deeper inside of her.

'Argh!' John Smith could no longer hold back, and bathed in the sweet relief of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

'Oh my... God!' Violet joined in.

'Whew,' finally John Smith's body relaxed, slumping down next to Violet, and staring at her with a happy, blissful expression on his face. He released her stump, and she could feel the blood slowly rushing back. He'd grabbed it rather forcefully.

'That was amazing,' she said and kissed his forehead, her tone of voice was now meant to be one of happy exhaustion.

He tried to catch his breath.

'Th-thank you,' was all he managed.

Violet the Broken Angel and John Smith were done for the night.

Emma would have a short break now. She could rest, and then someone would put her legs and clothes back on, and she would be ready for her next client. She would never know what life John Smith was returning to. He left as someone else, someone that concerned neither Emma nor Violet, a stranger to a woman who had read John Smith like an open book. She never saw what was behind her clients' masks, and she never let them see behind her own. What they chose to share with Violet could be fabricated just as easily as a name. John Smith was only as real as Violet, but Emma didn't mind that at all.

What Violet and John Smith had was real, and Violet had brought real joy into John Smith's life.