Forbidden Dreams

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John had first seen her at a birthday party of a friend. He was instantly mesmerized by her, the moment he saw her on the dance floor.

John had felt an unstoppable urge to get in touch with her, and they had exchanged a few looks and words as they semi-accidentally danced next to each other. Just chitchat; he hadn’t been able to come up with anything interesting to say, as would happen now and then to a guy who is overwhelmed by a special woman’s presence.

* * *

Later that night he had found out her name was Ellen, Ellen Sanders. And that she was a student in a nearby university town.

When the party was coming to a slow end, and there were only two groups of people chatting remaining, John had picked his chance of getting in touch with her.

It had worked. Surprisingly well. If John ever had good reason to be grateful for naturally finding the good subjects for discussion, it was that evening.

Ellen had fairly quickly begun to notice his interest in her. After some time she had signalled him she enjoyed his flattering. And as they talked deep into the night, they seemed to be ignoring guest after guest leaving the party. By the time it was 3am, even birthday boy Peter had called it a day.

That meant it was only the two of them remaining.

No scenario could have been more perfect.

And it looked classically like neither of them had been trying to avoid its outcome.

Ellen got up and put on a CD with slow late-night music, turning the volume çorum escort lower. As she turned, she looked down at John sitting on the couch, her body standing relaxed on her one leg. Her sexy tight jeans were tailored around the contour of the short stump of her missing left leg.

John watched her, and Ellen allowed him his look.

“I’ve heard that people like you exist, but you’re the first I actually run into,” she whispered. John felt his heart race, barely able to respond to what she just said.

Ellen’s perception had just shown to be impeccable.

Ever since he could remember, John had felt strangely attracted to amputees. He never found out why, but he did find the asymmetry of a body with a missing leg enchantingly sexy. And the erotic softness of a stump had very often driven his imagination wild.

His fascination for amputees was also John’s best kept secret. Not even his best friends had ever heard anything about the phenomenon that dominated John’s fantasies so intensely.

He smiled up shyly at her, noting she was still standing there as if she wanted him to have a good look at what made her so special.

“Yes, I guess you hit the nail on the head, Ellen. Very perceptive.”

She had to laugh instantly. “Perceptive? I’ve seen you staring at me practically the whole evening, John. It was pretty tough to not notice, you know.”

John grinned sheepishly. “Hmm…, so it was that obvious eh?”

Ellen nodded. “Yeah, it was. Doesn’t mean it’s çukurambar escort bad though…”

She gave him a sweet smile and sat down next to him, putting an arm around him.

“After all I might be flattered by your interest. Did you include that possibility?”

John looked at her.

“In my imagination maybe. But most of my thoughts were actually about how to explain to you, or about whether I should tell you at all.”

Ellen chuckled and squeezed into his shoulder.

“I’m a psychology major, and I’m specializing in counselling. So you found yourself a really bad target to hide your ponderings for.”

John laughed. “So that’s why we’re on the couch eh?”

Ellen giggled, then almost contrastingly took his hand and placed it on her stump.

“I don’t mind when you touch it. Go ahead.”

John felt a shiver go throughout his body. He looked down and squeezed lightly into the jeans that closed perfectly around Ellen’s amputated leg.

Ellen smiled. “Mmmmm, feels good, you know.”

John agreed, and could feel himself getting hard extremely fast.

He looked into her eyes and kissed her lips very lightly. She responded, sensuously brushing her lips against his, lightly moaning with every squeeze of John’s exploring hand into her soft stump.

“What about taking off my jeans, John?,” Ellen whispered in the middle of their kiss.

John moaned into the kiss. “And what about mine then?”

Ellen winked, then ankara escort moved her hand to his jeans and unbuttoned it with skill and speed, leaving John breathing heavily as she determinedly slid down his jeans and boxers, taking care to remove his shoes and socks as well.

John replied instantly, first taking off her shoe, then sliding down her pants and panties, watching her lift her butt to assist him a little.

She stretched her body seductively, not showing a trace of reluctance to expose her shaved cunt or the attractively round stump, that erotically tensed as she stretched out for him.

John already felt on the verge of cumming instantly, and he had no doubt Ellen knew everything about his current state of arousal. It wasn’t hard to guess anyway.

He could see her look shamelessly at his throbbing cock, and when she lifted her stump for him and ran a fingertip slowly over the scar, he swallowed and closed his eyes in a last attempt to not orgasm on the spot.

It didn’t help.

Ellen smiled naughtily, but John still had his eyes closed, feeling the orgasm unstoppably pump his cum out. He could hardly breathe, but the ejaculation continued nonetheless.

* * *

When John woke up, he could feel the sticky warmth of a recent orgasm inside his pants. He was disoriented, had no idea where he was. And at the same time, he felt tremendously aroused. He looked into the empty room, the couch. Bottles of beer and ashtrays everywhere.

The throbbing of his hangover swiftly kicked in as he regained full consciousness.

“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbled, realizing the dream he just had.

He got up from the couch. Saw the CD-box.

It was the CD Ellen had played.

John shivered, then walked out the door, on his way home.

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