(189) My wife had long suspected that I was a devotee of leg amputated women, so she started asking me uncomfortable questions the other day, while dressed like this. I was sweating, and stammering, unable to talk, and fearful that I’d be abandoned because of my “perversion” and not being open with her.
Instead, she called me close, ordered me to drop my pants and boxer shorts, and held my now firm manhood in her hand. I was unsure what was going to happen next as I twitched in her grip. She threw over this self-croped crude ES’d image and asked, “How would you like me and make love to me if I was like this?”
I came so fiercely and spewed my seed across her hips and belly. She said, “I thought so.” Then staring me in the eyes, continued, “throw me on our bed, bind my leg back with the bandages in my nightstand drawer, and make love to your amputee lover…I love you no matter what!”
We both came, explosively, too many times to count that evening.