Giant Country

I buy and ship ore. At least that's what I tell people. Actually it's far more complex than that, but they don't want to hear about it any more than I want to waste the breath telling them. It's a wonderful job, though--takes me into some great northern country around Lake Superior where I've met some great hunks. Giants, all of them.

I think of them as giants because most of the guys I do business with are well over six feet. I know. I ask them. That's because I'm 5'6½". At least that's my height in the new high tech prostheses I'm now wearing, in the old ones I was just under 5'5". But I keep trim and fit with lots of exercise, so I give a good impression.

I lost both legs about mid-thigh two years ago in a bad car accident. I was working for this same company at the time--I've been with them almost seven years. When that happened, my boss was absolutely super. He assured me I was going to continue working for him and that he would hold the job for me until I was ready to come back to work. It took a full year, what with having to learn to walk on artificial legs, but the insurance covered the worst of it and my boss generously chipped in. There was only one problem. I'm gay and a guy with no legs doesn't make out too good. My best friend of nine years just slowly evaporated like the morning mist. What could I do?

And here I was at the top of Lake Superior making calls as usual. It was my second trip there as an amputee. I had spent some four hours that particular afternoon with the six foot giant hunk of a president of the company I was doing business with. We finished about seven o'clock--in my job we don't work by the clock, we work by the goal. Instead of going directly back to my motel and then going out again, I went to what I'd discovered to be the best restaurant in town. I had hardly sat down when in walks this tall, solid-looking young guy who sat facing me two tables away.

I gawked. He was lean and looked like the physical incarnation of Power. His high cheek-boned face was handsome and looked like it was carved out of living granite. And I could almost feel the steely sinews that held this taut hunk together. He must have been about six foot three or four. Just my type of giant.

I watched him sit down. With considerable interest I watched him look, with total indifference, at the cute red-headed waitress. And me? Just looking at him was giving me a hard-on which didn't surprise me at all. Then he looked over at me and I almost came in my pants. All this is spite of the fact that for the year that I've been back in circulation with artificial legs instead of my own, I've known nothing but frustration. Habits are hard to break and I suppose some day I won't react because I'll know and accept the fact that nobody wants a cripple. That's a terrible word, but boy does it fit the terrible situation!

Dinner wasn't easy. I wanted that guy so bad I could hardly eat. And I kept telling myself that once he found out, he'd evaporate like several others. Between what few bites I did get to my mouth I just stared at him. And he kept staring back at me, leading me on, leading me on.

The thing I remember most about him was his face and the angular grace with which he moved. The second thing I remember most was that I remained hard all through dinner. I didn't eat much because my mouth wanted something else in it. And since my hard cock was hurting from being bent in my jockey shorts, I grabbed my check, hobbled to the cashier--even with high tech legs I don't walk like I used to--and left the scene of frustration. On my way to the car all I remember thinking about was getting back to the motel where I could beat my pud and fight the lonely battle with frustration.

It wasn't very far from the restaurant, and by the time I got there I was beginning to cool off and feel a bit hungry from not having had enough to eat. I went to the bathroom and peed and brushed my teeth and looked in the mirror and said out loud: "You dumb jerk! You've done it again. When the fuck are you ever going to learn?!" I was angry because I was relapsing into the old habit of torturing myself for not being what I used to be. Two years and I'm still fighting it! Then there was a discreet knock from somewhere. I stopped and held my breath waiting for the door of the room next to mine to open. But the knock came again. This time I realized it was at my door! I trundled over to the door and said: "Who is it?"

A voice answered from the other side: "It's me."

That was a help! "Who's me?" I asked angrily.

"Dink. I'm looking for Wilson Devereau."

Life is full of little surprises. Someone I never heard of is looking for me. "I don't know any Dink," I replied.

"I know you don't, but I thought I might correct that." He had a soft southern accent--well, more like Texas. "I saw you jis now in the restaurant. I'm the tall lanky guy you were staring at. Could I come in?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Should I or shouldn't I? Risk it, I kept thinking, risk it! So I opened the door and sort of hid behind it. Peering out into the dark and in the room light spilling from the open doorway, I saw the young giant from the restaurant.

"Hi!" he said with a warm and amiable smile.

I was speechless with disbelief. He had followed me there!

"Kin I come in?" he asked. His voice was deep and soft.

"Who told you my name, I don't know you--" he didn't push his way in, he just sort of flowed in right past me.

"You know me now, cause I interduced myself. I'm Dink." He looked around. "This is real nice." His voice was magic.

"Whaddaya want?" I asked hesitantly. I hadn't moved from the door and I didn't want him to see me walking, high tech or no high tech.

Standing in the middle of the room he turned to me and smiled. "Well, I saw how you were lookin' at me and I figgered I oughta check into it. I was lookin' at you, too, and I liked what I saw." He paused. "I like what I see."

Holy cow! He really comes on to a guy! I'd been through this before and I didn't want to go through it again. So I said, "You won't for long. You're not seeing everything and if you did, you wouldn't like it so I think you better get on out of here." I wasn't angry but I was quivering with that ole demon frustration. He would walk out on me when he found out and I'd be left there beating my brains out. It's this kind of thing that makes me want to blow my brains out. He didn't budge but neither did he smile. "Go on beat it!" I continued. "Get out and leave me alone." I was on the edge of shedding tears of frustration.

"OK, OK, but before I git outta here, I'm gonna explain somethin' and if you don't like the explanation, I'll be mighty sorry for both of us." He walked back to the door where I stood holding it open and and stood with his back up against the door jamb.

"I'm gonna be real frank. I like amputees." I could feel the blood drain from my face. "I kin spot a prosthesis a mile away. And you got two of them and that's jis what I like, a double AK. I'm gay so I look for gay amputees and I followed you to the restaurant because I knew you were a double AK but I had to find out if you were like me. And in the restaurant I decided you were and that you liked my looks jis like I like your looks. You're good-looking--hell, man, you're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I want to undress you, I want to take those prostheses offa you and make love to you, all of you, specially your stumps." He paused. "Well, I guess I've said my piece. It's your turn."

I knew I was going to cry so I walked over to the bed and called out "Close the door, please." Then I got on the bed, grabbed a pillow and buried my face in it. I heard the door close restoring my privacy so I let go, sobbing silently and massively like I did when I first faced living this new life without legs. I didn't know he was in the room until the bed moved and he was lying with me, facing me, and rubbing my head.

He had the courage and wisdom to say nothing at all, to let me unload, and his being there silent made me reach out for him and he gently took me in his arms and held me. Oh God! I can't tell you what that did for me. Here was a man holding me and comforting me for the first time since that nightmare happened two years ago.

I have no idea how long we lay there without speaking. I remember almost dozing off. Then I came to feeling fresh and rekindled. He wants sex, I thought. Well so do I. I'm going to make it the one-night stand of a lifetime. I looked at him.

"You said you wanted to undress me."

He started unbuttoning my shirt and undid my belt buckle. Then he hoisted me into a sitting position and removed shirt and undershirt. Then he put my arms around his neck, told me to hang on and lifting me up, he pulled my pants and shorts down past my ass.

Refraining from pulling my pants and shorts off my prostheses, he looked at them and whistled. "Man, you really got some crazy legs there. Are they comfortable?"

"Yeah, I guess," I answered sort of amused.

He looked at them very closely then, obviously knowing what he was doing, he opened the valve in each socket and released the suction and slipped both legs off and with them my pants and shorts, leaving me naked. He took the legs to a corner and leaned them there.

On his way back, he was removing his shirt and everything else followed in short order. Stripped completely, his body was the opposite of the bodybuilder type--all steel and sinew he was, without the least suggestion of bulk. And his cock had already reacted to what he'd been doing. He wasn't gigantic, just huge.

Then he knelt on the bed at my stumps and began to caress them with his hands. The feel of his touch was extremely exciting--I had had no previous inkling that my stumps were sexual in any way, but his manipulating them was producing results in a hurry. When he saw what I'd come up with, he leaned forward and took its head in his mouth and sucked gently while he continued his massage of both stumps. Then he transferred his lingual attention to my left stump and licked and caressed it and sucked on it, driving me wild, and then he did the same to my right stump. I caught myself thinking something weird: "So this is why I'm an amputee, I traded my legs for the unparalleled sensuality of stumps."

That was just the beginning of some two hours of total one flesh sexual indulgence of the most satisfying sort. Since I am anally oriented and since he said that was his favorite way to express his sexual appetite, we did something I've never heard of and didn't think possible, but again it may have to do with trading my legs for sensuality.

From the moment I had seen him with his huge attack piece at the ready, my man hole puckered up and tried to whistle for it.

I looked at him and smiled. "We're both ready for something, what would you suggest?"

He grinned. "Well I really like to fuck, but a lot of guys don't like it, so I'll do whatever you want."

"I want you to give it to me. All of it. Have you got a condom?"

"Never leave home without 'em." He went to the heap of clothes he'd left on a chair, fished into a pocket and brought back a pack and a tube of lubricant. Opening the condom pack, he handed one to me. "Wanta roll it down on me? And here's some lubricant too."

"It's a pleasure and an honor," I said and kissed its swollen head before covering it. "I see you have a big size condom. I've heard about them but never saw one before."

"Kin I fuck you my way?"

"Your way? You mean you've invented a new way to do it? Yeah, sure, let's do it your way!"

"OK, I'll tell you what to do. Scoot over so's I kin lay down flat on the bed."

I hoisted my ass to one side and he lay back, his feet still on the floor, his rubbered cock flopped against his belly.

"Now git on top of me facing me and sit on it. Ride me, cowboy!"

After lubricating both him and myself, I hoisted myself over him and straddled him the best I could since my stumps weren't quite long enough, with my man hole yawning in preparation for the goodie it was about to swallow. Leaning on my hands and balancing myself on my left stump, I got into a position where he could guide his organ right to my door and then held it while I slowly and ecstatically sat down on it. Filled with his thick meat, I put my head back, closed my eyes and concentrated on the pleasure I was feeling.

At this point I felt him moving and realized he was scooting forward to the edge of the bed.

"I'm gonna stand up with you riding on my dong, so put your arms around my neck and hang on!"

He slowly rose to his feet, his hands under my buttocks, and began walking about the room, slightly swinging his pelvis back and forth with each step. It was the most surprising sensation I've ever known. Of all the times I've had anal sex, the walking around added another dimension that was genuinely new. My entire body felt like it was going to explode.

I was shaking like a leaf in a high wind and said, "I'm going to come!"

"That's the whole idea, man!" And hardly had he said it when I was pumping spunk all over his belly. He didn't lose a step but continued his slow walk and his pelvic swing. It couldn't have been more than three minutes later that I again felt the tremors leading to orgasm and ejaculation and I attempted to say something appropriate but the blinding explosion from within shut me up and all I could do was gurgle.

This was compounded by a new activity on his part. He stopped walking and began bumping with his pelvis, while at the same time his hands on my ass were thrusting me up and down on his rod and within about half a dozen of those thrusts, he stopped the movement and let out a hissing moan and I felt his cock swell with each pump load and I felt the pressure of his filling condom against my prostate and I, too, went into a third orgasm as Dink sank down to the bed and lay back. Still impaled on his cock, I lay forward, nestling my head against his. It was quite a while before his cock was soft enough to flop out. It was the first time in two years that I hadn't thought about "no legs." Dink had made me whole again.

We kissed long and ardently and that was only the prelude to more. He never tired of playing with my stumps and I never tired of the extraordinary sensation they produced. By the time we had drained ourselves dry, we were both screaming hungry.

Dink carried me to the accessible tub--I had a motel room for the handicapped--and we scrubbed each other. After Dink expertly put my high tech endoskeletal legs on me, we finished dressing and I said, "OK, Dink, let's have the truth. How did you learn my name?"

"Well I saw you and I could tell from the way you walked--"

"Yeah-yeah, I know," I interrupted. "Where did you see me?"

"I saw you going into dad's office, so I asked Margaret who you were and she--"

"You saw me going into your dad's office? Is he your dad?"

"Yeah, and she told me your name and I thought you'd never come out. I waited in the outside office and then when Margaret left at 5:30, I went down and sat in my car. I waited mor'n four hours. Then I followed you to the restaurant. And now we're gonna go back there and git somethin' t'eat and talk about our future."

While we were driving to the restaurant, I learned that his mom and dad had divorced when he was little and he grew up in the south.

We also talked about our future, and because there was so much to talk about I stayed over two extra days. Of course we didn't talk all the time, just part of the time. And believe me, things are going to work out.

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