Stumps

And on, and on.

She studied herself carefully, considered the weather, the course, added a tiny increment of speed beginning at mile sixteen. A smidgen of insurance on reaching her goal. Started on water-bottle #2, especially laced with glucose for the final ten miles.

The compensatory uphill lasted two miles: other wheels (and lots of runners) had gone out too fast, were scattered sparsely along the route now, paying the price, stopped and panting, some actively being sick: most of the stopped folks looked to be non-finishers. She dug into her store of energy, worked the rims. The talc inside her gloves long-since turned to mud by her sweat, but even so was still helping prevent blisters.

At mile twenty-five, the finish line was theoretically in sight but actually hidden deep inside the football stadium, a long circuit of the parking lot first, then up the ramp, through the goalposts and around the infield to the actual finish. She checked her time -- four minutes ahead! - and she was tired but quite short of exhausted.

The realization finally hit - she was going to do it! Hard right, many acres of asphalt to circle, a sign and more cheerleaders at one actual, statute mile to go.

And now, charging towards her came the Twins, Alpha shouting to her from a hundred meters away "BRAVO! You're WAY ahead of time, we almost missed you!" They joined her, gasping a bit as they kept alongside and she didn't slow one iota. At the end of the final lap around the infield they peeled off to let her charge down the finish lane solo.

Through the actual line she went, surrendering the racing-bib's little rip-off "finisher" tag to the official.

Proof forever, on the public record!

Three twenty-four and ten seconds -- including the starting-line delay! Arms raised with hands clasped over her head, watching her Twins lope in her direction, she screamed to herself "I DID IT!"

And then, as The Twins neared, her local universe went into the slowest of slow motion, her vision went crystal clear as if a fog had lifted, her hearing seemed unnaturally acute. As if some huge, all-pervasive weight were suddenly lifted off her, physically, mentally, emotionally.

Something clicked: she knew, of course, that there would be plenty of other races, but she also knew that in this instant she had conquered something critical. Now she could set aside -- intentionally and with understanding- the obsession to prove herself to herself: she could return to something more nearly her own 'normal'. Her pre-accident 'normal'.

With a jolt, she realized that that term 'The Accident' was no longer capitalized. She felt exactly like being set free. Free in the midst of the finish-line crowd, the whole area a-swarm with thousands of sweaty, attractive bodies of both genders, the calm humid air full of something just the far side of tangible, redolent of clean sweat and human sexuality. Immersed in her unexpected new freedom, just breathing the air here generated an adrenaline jolt that sent her pulse soaring well beyond its race-rate.

The Twins were on collision course with her, cheering. Crystal-vision: there was something strange about the fronts of their running shorts -- an unusual lumpiness. Odd, she thought quite analytically, them having hardons after running so far! Hardons required BLOOD and lots of it -- the Twins' blood should have been 100% in use elsewhere, she felt, almost giggling to herself.

Then a bit of her brain wondered to the rest of her just why she had never, ever noticed before what lovely crotches and butts --and legs, of course -The Twins had? How could she possibly have missed that? Had she been otherwise obsessed, or WHAT!? Milliseconds later, something exploded deep in her lower belly, a powerful, gut-wrenching twist that made her gasp out loud.

A round of congratulatory and very sweaty hugs which Beta turned into a long, deep kiss, completely unexpected, absolutely delicious. Thirty seconds of that and Alpha was pushing his brother aside, claiming his turn. In her bemused, self-studying state she hardly noticed the anomaly -- being actually KISSED again -- but was aware enough to note the Twins' radical differences in technique, and to decide that the differences were certainly not grounds for establishing a preference. Either was nice -- much more than merely adequate! - and both together were more than twice as nice as either singly. An emergent phenomenon!

Moments later the analysis was swamped by sensation and a tsunami of neediness -- and a sense of ill-defined wonder: howcome she'd not even THOUGHT about being kissed for these three years, yet now, so very suddenly, it was desperately, achingly necessary, so fulfilling?

From within her confusion, Carrie quickly realized she was impossibly, mind-bogglingly horny, it had descended on her without the least warning, out of the blue, something she'd not felt for three years -- the instantaneous explosion of need was so intense that it was almost nauseating. But nicely nauseating -- a sign of returning humanity, perhaps? The Twins had quit for the moment, backed off slightly, were advertising a special picnic they'd brought, the basket was in their car, Alpha would go fetch it -- lots of juicy stuff, champagne, energy-replacements. A victory celebration.

As the Twins talked, Carrie realized that she had an internal victory which needed celebration, needed it desperately, immediately. She made a decision partly analytic, mostly emotional, shook herself, reached out a hand to each Twin, squeezed hard. Which she could now do with authority, given her new musculature. They looked at one another, then down at her.

She took a prolonged, deep breath, let her eyes flick back and forth between theirs. "Like riding a bicycle..." she thought -- "Three years of no practice and I can still read them perfectly!" And she was pleased with what she read... they were every bit as interested as she, just uncertain -- like so many men, they needed guidance. "Hold on a second, you two."

They paused, puzzled.

"Can I be just as straightforward right now as you were when you picked me up and threw me in the porta-potty that first race?"

Again they looked at one another, back to her, said simultaneously "Sure! What?"

She squeezed again. "Okay -- here goes. It's been over three years since I was kissed like that -- much less anything beyond kissing. Not once since my accident. I haven't allowed myself the luxury of horniness -- just focused on my injuries and this marathon. The race has been a sort of self-evaluation goal, and now that I've done it, well, frankly..." She grinned at them -- they were extraordinarily serious-faced. "...FRANKLY, Gentlemen, my libido has just now ripped its way out of the bag I kept it in, and I have the goddamnedest case of the screaming hornies, like a supernova in my belly. First time I've felt like a female human for three years. And..." She stared briefly at Beta's crotch, then at Alpha's, then back to their faces. "... it's all focused on you two. If you happen to be free this afternoon, and can handle a hyper-horny black double-amputee as a third in a ménage-a-trois, then I suggest we adjourn -- with your picnic -- to my place. Immediately. It's about ten minutes away. Shall we?"

She paused, thinking, then grinned at them: "You know, I've never even dated white... what a way to re-start!"

The Twins looked momentarily addled, then, precisely together, they grinned at her and laughed. Beta said "Stumps, we've been speculating about you since day one, at the porta-potty, wishing we could get through to you and make love to you. Talk about fantasizing! We'd just about given up, too! And HELL YES we can handle it -- just try us, we guarantee it! You've never dated white, and neither of us has ever dated black, so that's a wash. We're pretty sure the sexual basics are the same regardless of skin. Black and white, yin and yang, sweet and sour, all those contrasts -- what would the world be without them? But you'll have to drive your van -- we'll flip to see who rides with you and who drives our car. Shall we go NOW? If you can be horny, well, so can WE! Running always makes us both super-hot."

Then, sotto voce, Alpha said "But today's hardons are very specifically YOUR FAULT! In case you'd like to know."

Carrie appreciated the information, flushed invisibly, squeezed their hands again, muttered "Sorry, guys... I truly didn't mean to be a prick-tease, if that's what I was. I've been preoccupied all this time, you know. I'm blushing, under the melanin! But..." She grinned broadly up at them both, "... finishing this race seems to have unleashed something. Broken the dam or some such. I hope you can handle it! And why didn't you ever SAY anything about the fantasies?"

Beta shrugged, said "They weren't shared by you -- like you said, you were preoccupied and we understand. Given your state of mind, it would have been totally inappropriate, a sort of breach of confidence. An imposition. Last thing you needed was two extremely horny guys sniffing around you, putting on pressures that you really didn't want. But hey! -- who knows? Maybe today we can explain a few of them? Maybe even try a few on for size? Let's GO!"

Enroute home with Beta riding silently in the passenger seat, letting her drive without distraction, the rational side of Carrie's brain popped up to query her -- had she done a thorough analysis of this situation and what it might become, of what it could mean, of possible consequences? Another part of her psyche was in charge however, and squashed the question, saying in essence that "Ms Rational" should pipe down and get out of the way -- that in fact there was a higher-order rational analysis, already completed, that not only permitted but actually demanded this course of action.

The vehicles arrived in convoy. Carrie opened the condo's front door, led the way inside. Alpha brought the big picnic basket from The Twins' car. Beta shut the condo's steel front door with an authoritative thunk. She led them straight to the bedroom, wheeled in, watched their reactions to the dangling knotted ropes she used to get around.

Beta grinned, said "Interesting possibilities!" Carrie was fully pleased, and half intimidated, by the now full-grown hardons the men sported beneath their running shorts: the hardons' existence demanded resolution of tension, and she'd had precious little recent practice, and never a twofer. Then Alpha sat down on the bed, reached out for Carrie's head, leaned forward to kiss her. It went on for quite some time: when they broke, she was shivering violently and he asked with concern "What's wrong? Getting cold feet?"

She shook her head, tried to smile, managed to say "No... not at all. It's just that, well, I've never done anything this wild, two on one, and I'm for sure not used to being so blatant and aggressive. I really don't know what I'm doing. So I'm nervous and a bit scared. I haven't had a date, even, since the accident..." She realized again that the event was no longer capitalized -- that must be significant! "...PLUS, dammit, I haven't had an orgasm of any sort for at least three years, and who knows whether I'm still capable? And I'm really truly scared of what it's going to be like fucking without legs... for both you two men and myself! What are you two going to actually think about my body when you see it naked? That's scary in itself! I think my boobs are okay, and I don't have a traditional black female big-booty, but man, NO LEGS? I was always pretty seriously vain about them. Lots of unknowns. So that's why I'm shaking. But cold feet? NOPE!"

She ended her litany of doubts and worries with "Now then, Gentlemen - how shall we start this thing without feeling awkward? God knows, I'm ready!"

"Kiddo," said Beta, "... your Twins here have never done a threesome together, so we're all three of us on equal footing. As for starting, why don't we stand where you can take our clothes off -- if the merchandise is still interesting after your inspection, we can do turn-about. By then I suspect things will be evolving nicely, no blueprints needed. And at some point we'll probably need to open the basket -- but not right away. Do we all need to shower first?"

Carrie grinned, shook her head, said "No shower needed on my part. Clean sweat is sexy as hell. Besides, what would be the point? With any luck we'll all be good and sweaty again very shortly!" She grabbed a rope, and using just one arm flipped herself onto the bed with consummate ease, the dark-chocolate smooth ends of her stumps somewhat startling when so blatantly on display.

"Come over here you two, where I can reach your shorts."

The merchandise was thoroughly acceptable -- a perfect matched set except for Alpha being circumcised and Beta not so. And Beta was clean-shaven, vs Alpha's pile of tightly-curled, translucent blond pubic hair. Interesting contrasts, she thought -- having never before seen either an uncut cock or a white one -- or a clean-shaven one, either.

After initial introductions during which Carrie discovered that for deep-throating, rather like bicycling, there was nearly 100% skill-retention despite long disuse.

She quizzed them as to their crotch differences. Mom and Dad had had disagreed about circumcision -- Dad was cut, himself, hence voted YEA. Mom felt it to be a seriously unnatural practice, quite savage, hence voted NO. Compromise - one of each, as determined by flipping a silver dollar. The one who lost the flip -- and his foreskin -- got the dollar at age 21. The shaving was a fillip laid on by a long-gone girlfriend, something Beta had come to enjoy: Alpha thought it silly.

The Twins clambered aboard the king bed, settled one on each side of Carrie, and then together, glacially to the point almost of reverence, they stripped her, singlet first. Her released boobs were tennis-ball solid with need: with one Twin suckling each side, she very nearly came in the first minute or two.

When her shorts and thong came off, leaving her exquisitely naked with men for the very first time since the accident, huge swarms of goose-bumps flooded over her, driven partly by worry, partly by appreciation of their combined touches. She had her eyes closed; somebody deeply engaged her mouth with his. Meanwhile, someone else was doing delightful things to her stumps with the other mouth: the sensations were startlingly intense and pleasant.

Then he moved to cup her bottom in his warm strong palms, saying firmly, authoritatively, "Jeez, Carrie... your stumps are actually attractive, and with a bottom like this, who's ever going to miss the legs? You are GORGEOUS!"

Warm, gentle, knowing fingers spread her pussy lips, followed by a short sigh of delight: "Man, this pink inside of black is a whole new world of turn-on!" as a hot, soft mouth took possession of first her clit, then her soul. Four male hands, aided by two mouths, were infinitely better than a single set, she quickly discovered. Especially when they truly knew what they were doing, and were driven by minds perfectly attuned to her needs.

Less than a minute more, and an enormous orgasm wracked her, shattering any remaining worries. Having mouths simultaneously working both ends as she came was incredible... not to mention three hands on her boobs and the fingers of the fourth drilling firmly, full-depth, into both pussy and bottom.

Before she had fully alit, The Twins changed places and started over. She didn't protest. Different techniques, as also in mouth-kissing: different results, a long string of mini-orgasms, then another volcanic one as a temporary finale.

When she could open her eyes she said, slowly and dreamily, "Guess what? I could FEEL my feet each time I came! They were making fists, just like before. Isn't that the silliest thing?" Then, "Let's try real fucking now. Please? Which of you gets to go first? I refuse to make a choice! But it's way overdue to start... after all, we do have to take care of you both! We can watch ourselves in the wall mirror -- I love to watch, and the contrast between our skins should make it easy to see what's actually going on. A subtle advantage of interracial lovemaking!"

The Twins looked at one another, exchanged knowing nods. "Maybe there's no need to make a choice, Carrie. Feeling truly adventuresome, M'Lady? Genuinely, thoroughly adventuresome?"

She nodded, wondering. She found out.

"Dibs on front for starters!" said Beta. He rolled onto his back, pulled her up to lie atop him chest to chest, reached down for her stumps, spread her wide, slipped himself full-depth into her pussy in a single long, slow stroke that left her gasping nicely and waiting for a second helping, muttering into the long kiss that accompanied the joining, "Screwy, but it really does feel like I have my legs wrapped around you!"

Then, behind her, Alpha busied himself getting into position, and she realized exactly what was happening. Realized, was grateful for George having turned her into an anal-sex enthusiast, and relaxed into the intensity of having this pair of identical cocks plunging in perfect syncopation into pussy and ass. And there were plenty of available, talented hands to deal with boobs and back and clit and bottom all at once.

It took a while -- a deliciously prolonged while. She had never had such an orgasm in her life... and when finally she had recovered her breath, The Twins gave her no quarter, merely took ten seconds to change places, and they went through the entire drill again, but much more slowly and thoroughly, which generated no complaints.

Half the afternoon was spent overtly -- and enjoyably - exploring what was missing in lovemaking possibilities due to her absent legs. The major findings were (a) yes, some few things were missing, some positions, some techniques were no longer possible, but also, astoundingly enough, (b) new possibilities were opened up as well. In fact, there were times when legs would actually have been in the way. Hardly worth amputation to discover so, she pointed out, but interesting nonetheless. The other half of the afternoon was spent consuming the picnic-basket's contents, then a long adventure in showering-with-friends in which soap and hand-held showerheads were featured items.

Followed by serious pizza, delivered.

Late in the afternoon Carrie proposed that the men stay overnight -- if they happened to be available and interested. After all, the trio seemed to be fully compatible in all directions --she was frankly amazed at The Twins' ability to cooperate and avoid competing, not to mention how totally natural it felt to have TWO all for herself! Maybe this was nature's way of letting her make up for lost time? Anyhow, she for one was nowhere near satiated... plus their hardons kept on returning, suggesting that the men needed more for themselves? Something she could provide?

The night was spent in such deep darkness that Carrie literally never knew which man was in her hands or mouth, or pussy, or butt... and although in theory she could have found out -- given circumcisions and shaving -- the reality was that she hadn't memorized what condition went with whom, and on top of that she most definitely didn't care. When early in the AM yet another sandwich occurred, it was unknown and immaterial to her which man was fore and which aft... the important thing was the pleasure all three gave and got in return.

Morning, she awoke first, looked at the sound-asleep bodies on either side of her, reached for a rope, hauled herself quietly clear of the bed and men, swung into her chair. Still nude, she wheeled to the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, the smell of coffee roused her Twins, and they appeared, newborn-naked, sporting morning half-erections, looking both awed and sheepish at finding her already up and making breakfast for three.