0 comments/ 19042 views/ 3 favorites Device: Older Women By: PeggyBuxton The shower water at the Shady Inn washes away the past two hours of lovemaking. Loren rests a hand on Devon's shoulder for balance. The short stump of her left leg moves slightly. Older than his mother and married, she has anxiously been meeting him every Friday for six weeks. They met by chance at the long row of mailboxes in the neighborhood. Her age attracted him to her, but the missing leg added appeal. Since graduating from the university, he had been with women even older. He did not understand why the interest. It just was. The women were always married and wanting a good romp, their husbands no longer interested in their needs - or able to perform. His smooth way made it easy to find ones that only wanted affairs without commitment. "Hmmm, good as usual," she says, rubbing the towel over his body. "I'm looking forward to Friday these days." She chuckles. He watches the attractive woman hop a few steps to the crutches leaning against the wall. Her wonderful breasts sway and bounce in a marvelous ways with each hop. "Naughty, naughty," she teases. "Huh?" "You were staring. Were you looking at my breasts or my stump?" "All of you. I happen to think you are one of the most beautiful...." "Honey, we need to get your eyes checked." "No, no. I've seen your daughter. She's hot, but I'd take you any day." "You are sweet." She buttons the blouse over naked breasts. "It doesn't matter, but you don't seem to mind I have one leg." "No." "Talk to me. Be honest. Do you have a thing for amputee women?" "Big time." He chuckles. "I'm glad you are my first." She buttons the jeans and stuffs the empty pants leg over the waistband at the back. "Do you have any plans for the weekend?" "I'm going over to Uncle Bob's house to watch football on Sunday. The Bears play the Vikings. He's my dad's older brother, filthy rich, and has an eighty-five-inch flat panel TV!" "Jack and I...." She puts her running shoe on and ties it. "Hell, I don't know what we're doing." The room door clicks shut behind them and he hugs her a last time. She wantonly takes his mouth, grinds against his trousers, and then steps back. "Till next Friday," she softly says. "I can't wait." - Julie wipes Bob's jism from her lips then sucks the erection once again. He moans, moves his hips slightly, and toys with her long brown hair. Karen rides his face, twisting her nipples. "Twins," he teases. "Nothing like it." "The magic of the device." Karen laughs. Julie straddles him and kisses her sister deeply. "Are we going to be around Sunday when Devon comes?" "He wouldn't understand." "What, that you like twenty-year-old twins?" She smiles. "Nah. The device." "I've seen your huge collection of memory cards. Maybe you could introduce one of them to Devon." "How about the seventy-year-old?" Julie quizzes. "Hey, I can't help it if I like them older too." "Older and missing a limb or two," Karen teases. "I guess we're the queer exception." "Ha!" Julie roars. "Just don't show him the T-girl." - Several empty bottles of beer sit on the coffee table. Bob sucks the rest of the beer from the one he holds. Devon cheers as the Vikings score. "Way to go!" Bob eagerly shouts, rubbing his crotch. "Sorry," he offers. "No problem. Are you seeing anyone?" "I get a date once in a while. How about you?" "Some horny wives." "Good for you. Just don't get caught." "That's the goal," Devon says then chuckles. "Can I get you another beer?" "Yeah, grab a few more." Bob follows him into the kitchen. "How's work?" "Busy. Crunch time on this design we're doing. My mind is spinning with issues." "I know how that can be." He opens another beer. "How often are you seeing the current wife?" "Wives," Devon corrects. "Maggie every other Monday and Loren on each Friday. Guess its over with Maggie." "I didn't know you were such a stud. Toss me any rejects, please." "You wouldn't be interested." "I'm always up for pussy." "Ah, these women are older than mom." "No shit? Do you have any pictures?" "A few. Where's your computer?" The screensaver dances with a slideshow of naked women three at a time then changing to the next group of three. "Cool," Devon says, watching for a few minutes without clicking the mouse. He looks down and sees two glass jars with dozens of memory cards, each labeled. Lifting the jar to read he finds 'Lily-18', 'Susan-46', 'Janet-64', and so on. "Shit!" Bob complains. Devon looks around and finds a picture of his mother on the screensaver. She is in a suggestive pose and missing a leg. Before it totally registers with him, Bob slams a finger against the spacebar to end the show. "Was that mom? Did you Photoshop the leg away?" "Sorry. I forgot about that picture." "I bet she doesn't know." Devon laughs. "What are these cards?" Bob takes the jar from him and puts it in a drawer. "Don't feel like you have to hide things," Devon says. "It's embarrassing." He puts the jar back on the desk. Devon looks again and finds a card labeled 'Sara-48 1L'. His mother's name is Sara and she is forty-eight. Is the '1L' for one leg? "Is that mom? Do those cards have pictures on them?" "No." Bob puts something that looks like an iPhone on the desk. Devon holds it realizing it isn't a cell phone. "The cards go in that," Bob finally says, pacing a few times before sitting on the loveseat in the home office. "Okay," Bob groans. "Guess the fuckin' cat's out of the bag now. I might as well come clean." "It's not like I don't have 'my closet' full of issues of my own." "I guess we all do." Bob paces, hands clasped behind his back, head down. Finally, he sits on the loveseat. "I was in the Orient a few months ago. One night, a client over there was dressed as a drop-dead beautiful woman and I teased him about wanting to be with someone like her." Bob stands then sits. "He handed me one of those things...devices. I looked puzzled. 'With this you can be anyone you want' the man told me." "What did he mean?" Devon asks. "Those cards don't have pictures, they have one person on each. If you put the card in the device and press the button, you become the person for as long as you want." "No-o. You're making this up. Right?" "Nope. You can even remove an arm or leg. That's how I did your mother's picture." "Is that card, mom with one leg?" "Yes. Please don't tell her...or anyone...about this. Will you promise me that?" "Sure. How do you get the cards?" "You can buy them, but you can also save people onto the card. I've found that people are willing to take my picture with that thinking it's a cell phone camera." He laughs. "They don't know." "Can I try?" Bob saves Devon's body to a blank card. It is the only way to return. "Pick a card." Devon pours some cards on the desk and shuffles though them reading labels. He remembers 'Janet-64' and finds it, hands it to Bob. "An older woman, huh? I'm particularly fond of this one." He chuckles. "Quite the body." He shows him where to put the card and which button to push. He explains it is best to undress first since the clothes will not fit the new body. "Whoa-a," Devon says, sitting as a naked Janet. She fondles a breast then teases between her thighs. "My thoughts are Devon's," she puzzles in a woman's voice. "Yeah, otherwise you wouldn't remember to go back to being Devon. Besides, your desires are probably very different that the other persons." "Do you mean like wanting to be an amputee?" Bob chuckles. "For example. Or to have different sexual interests or orientation." "Good point." She walks to a mirror on the wall and combs her fingers though the curly blond hair. "If I had one of these, could I stay like this?" "Forever? Sure. You never know about health problems the person might have." "Couldn't you just become the person anew once a week to reset the clock?" "Sure." "Clothing?" "I have a wardrobe for some of the people. A few of them I have documents...passport, birth certificate, and driver's license. I even have bank accounts for a few people so I can get credit cards for shopping." "Wow-w, how do I get one?" Bob walks to the desk. "Move over." Janet stands and watches him call up a web page. "I'll order you one. They're pricey. The cards are reasonable so you can order them if you want." "I want this body." "That's easy. I'll make a copy for you. She lives overseas so you won't bump into her if you go out in public as her." "Documents?" "Again, pricey." He chuckles. "Find a few bodies you like and let me know. We'll work something out." Bob finishes the order. "I had it sent to your address." "Any chance I can put some clothes on." "Getting cold? I could warm you up." He laughs, leading her to the bedroom. "I have crutches too." He points at the pile of crutches in the back of the closet. Janet selects a simple dress and puts it on then looks though the shoes, picking a pair of low heals. "I want to try the crutches, but maybe another time. For now, this is fantastic. If only...." "The package will be there tomorrow afternoon." "I just don't know if I want to change back for a while." "Listen, stay as her and comeback tomorrow morning on the way to work. I'll loan you a driver's license so you won't have to worry about that. Are you sure about the leg? It's easy." He laughs, pulling a pair of underarm crutches from the closet. "Okay." Without the left leg, she tries the crutches, walking about the bedroom then into the living room. Bob follows. "Quite the looker," Bob offers, stopping behind her and slipping both arms around her waist. He pecks a few kisses along the neck, fondles a breast. "Makin' me hard," he moans, grinding against her ass. She turns in his arms without caring that a moment ago she was Devon and Bob is his uncle. For now, Devon is Janet-64 and lets her mouth press against his. - Janet wakes in Bob's bed, finding his arm over her with his body tight against her back. He wakes with a start. A moment later, the hand wanders over a breast teasing the nipple into firmness. She rolls over, finds his erection, and rubs it through her slit. "Your old slut needs her morning fuck." She snickers, pressing onto the shaft. "Anytime." She straddles him, the stump against his pelvis, her hips rocking up and down. "Who are you most often?" She stares down into his face, her hair brushing him with each movement. "Julie and Karen are fun. There're twins." He laughs. "I thought 'you' had to be the person on the card." Grind, pound, grind. "Ah-h, ah." "Clones." "I see. How many?" "Was up to two, now six." "Quite the orgy." Grind, pound, grind. "Hell, yeah." "You'll probably rarely see Devon." She laughs. He comes, flooding her. "Who's the stud now?" She chuckles and sits on the edge of the bed for a moment before coming Devon again. "Fuck! I have to go to work," he complains. "Can I take a shower? I don't have time to go home first." - Sitting in the diner having breakfast, Devon finds himself watching women of all ages. In the past, it was to see if he might want to approach them. Now it is to see if he wants to have their body on a memory card. "She's a hottie," Doris, the attractive older waitress that often waits on him, says. "If I could have that body...." She finishes refilling his cup and walks away. Memories of Janet flood his mind, even a few of Loren. Time is already passing too slowly and it will be at least eight more hours until he is home. Locked safely in the console of his car are the cards with Janet and the one with him. Fortunately, the weather is cool. He will look for a safe place to keep backup copies, probably a box at the bank. "Doris, when you're ready for a good time," he teases at the register as he pays. "Honey, Herb sure ain't getting the job done anymore." She groans. "You are one sexy woman, you know." He flashes a big smile, and leaves, feeling her gaze on him. He would have her in a heartbeat if he could. Probably in her late fifties, her legs would wrap nicely around his waist. Does she moan loudly? He chuckles, closing the car door. - During lunch, Devon sits on a low-wall watching women pass. On the way to the sandwich shop, he stopped by the office supply store and bought twenty memory cards. Ones like those that Bob had are cheap. He knows he will need more before long, but this will be a good start. Bob mentioned a catalog for people at the web site and he plans to spend time searching. Bob didn't seem to use the device to become the people, rather to create clones to have for company. Not at all, how Devon plans to use it. He considers how friends and family would react. Probably not well. Just as Bob does, Devon will have to sneak around when changing bodies. Sure, he can have clone friends, go out with them, and have them sleep over, but to become a new person he might have to move away. "Hi," Connie says. She works as a clerk in shipping and probably late forties, early fifties. Some women have a youthful look that betrays their age. Connie is like that, with great breasts, often without a bra, and with nipples begging at the fabric in wonderful peaks. She sits beside him with a little space between them. She crosses long legs without stockings, her skirt riding up from the knee revealing much of the back of the thigh. One foot with a moderate high-heal dangling loosely from the toes swings casually. Today there is no bra. He wonders if she wears panties. "Great day," she begins. "I like it a little cool." "Cool nights with blankets...." "Or a lover." She chuckles, still swinging the foot. "You seeing anyone?" "I'm into older women. Sorry." "God, if only I could find my other body...." He laughs. "You do and I'm ready. My last girlfriend moved away last month and I'm getting a little randy." She laughs. "Hubba, hubba. I had no idea, Connie." "Older women need lovin'." - Bob slips into 'Sara-48 1L', dresses in short shorts and a halter-top, and then clones Devon from a copy he had made without him realizing it. He doesn't care that is it just a conversation with himself. It can be fun. "Mom, you are beautiful with one leg." "No one else thinks so, other than Bob, the dirty old man. He walks around rock hard when I'm over here." "What does dad think about you this way?" "Who cares? What matters is that we are alone. From the looks of those britches, you seem quite excited." "I love you, mom." "Call me Sara. Calling me 'mom' is too weird." He pulls her close, shoving a hand in the shorts and finding no panties. "Slutty enough?" she teases. "Maybe I should slip into something younger." "Naughty, naughty. I think I saw a hot eighteen year old guy with a horse sized cock." She roars with laughter. - The package is waiting on the porch when Devon returns home at seven. The day was long and unproductive with most of the thoughts about the device and Janet. Bob had packed an overnight bag for her with some clothes, shoes, a purse, and undergarments. He'd tossed in the driver's license as well. Devon had neglected to bring crutches or buy a pair on the way home. For now, changing back into her is all that matters. He empties the blank memory cards into an empty glass then makes the change to Janet and dresses. She drops a few blank cards into her purse. Just in case, she tells herself. A stop by a mirror to make sure everything is as it should be. It is. The dress is not the same as last night. This one is a simple light yellow day dress, cotton, soft, which outlines her body pleasantly. She adjusts the breasts, naked, not overly large and not needing a bra. The lightly touches and reflected sights in the mirror excite her. A hint of moisture builds inside her slit - like the breasts, equally naked. "Table for one," she tells the young hostess at the pancake restaurant. If she eats as Janet, will Devon be hungry tomorrow? She reminds herself to ask Bob how that works. On the way to the table, she notices people looking her way. "Coffee to begin," she says. "Give me a moment to look at the menu." Loren is sixty and Janet compares herself. She doesn't feel old. Is it because Devon's thoughts are for someone twenty-five? "Thank you," she tells the waitress when she brings the pot of coffee. "I'd like pancakes and a side of two scrambled eggs." Her eyes watch the waitress closely for any response to her age or appearance. There is none, maybe a little. Janet knows how she looks and finds herself very attractive. Not a spring chicken by any means, but attractive. Her breasts are still nice, not sagging, but sitting properly with good shape. It will be nice to search the catalog later and see what else is possible, maybe in the future staying as Devon, maybe as another person occasionally. Older or younger, male or female, there are many questions. Maybe the first to answer is why the desire to have a different body. Does that really matter? It felt good to have the leg off last night. Like being a woman, it surprised him how nice it was. Does Loren enjoy missing a leg as much? Maybe he could save a copy of her onto a card. That would be interesting to be a 'real' amputee. She should have made a clone, have someone to talk with. With more cards that will be enjoyable, even though both will have the same thoughts. It will be like talking to yourself, but no one else will know you are. You won't look crazy. She chuckles quietly. Tonight she will make a clone to have someone to sleep with, cuddle, and kiss - even if it looks like the same body. The food arrives. "Anything else?" "No. This is perfect. I'm famished." She watches the young waitress walk away. What about Devon, will he be hungry? - Janet stops by the pharmacy on the way home from the pancake restaurant to buy a pair of crutches. After adjustments, she removes most of her left leg so that it is similar to Loren's stump. Now she sits at the laptop looking at the catalog of people for the device. "Whoa, look at her," Janet's clone says, pointing at the third one in the forty-year-old section of women. "She makes my knees weak." Clone still has both legs. Janet caresses Clone's buttock and lower back. "Nice to have you with me." "I didn't know you were a lesbian," Clone says, letting a hand rest on Janet's shoulder. "Maybe there're a lot of things you don't know about me." She laughs. "Will you go down on me when we go to bed?" "If you'll fondle my stump." "Deal." Janet scans the section then moves to the fifty-year-old section. It is smaller still. Each decade older section is even smaller. It is clear that finding people on the street will be necessary. Clone returns, her left arm is missing above the elbow. "Sexy," Janet says, kissing the end of the stump. "Thought I'd try it since we only have 'one' pair of crutches." She chuckles. "Well, we can get more." Clone looks over Janet's shoulder, pecking kisses in her hair. "Did you find anything?" "That one in the forty section was nice. There weren't many older than that." She moves back to the thirties. "Maybe too young." "It's late, lets go to bed. I'll make you forget about everything." - Devon watches Doris move about the diner refilling cups of coffee and delivering orders. The failure to find older women in the catalog that he wanted to be weighs heavy and the disappointment runs high. He knows it has only been less than a day. Would she look good in bed next to him? She has been in his thoughts before - naked in the shower or with his face between her thighs. In the thoughts, she shaved down there. Does she? Something easy to take care of - wax then save to a card. Would he have her missing one or both legs? Device: Older Women "What'cha thinking about?" she asks, leaning against the counter across from him with the pot dangling from a few fingers. "You." He smiles. "Knowing you, we're doing something nasty." She chuckles. "Yeah, and you lovin' every second of it." "Hmmm." "Uh-huh-h," he drawls, nodding. He pulls the device out, slips a blank card in it. "Listen, will you take a picture of me?" "Sure. Something to give one of your hot lady friends?" "Nah. I just wanted to try this new camera." He hands it to her. "Just point it at me." Another woman a few years younger than her comes over. "Flash didn't go off. Let me." He puts in another blank card and hands it to her, and then smiles. Three more women crowd around each wanting to try. He lets them and now has new bodies to try tonight. He thanks them all, assuring them he will read the instructions later. At work, he goes to the shipping department and finds Connie. Again, he asks her to take his picture. More women crowd around mentioning the flash did not go off and to let them try. He willingly lets them. He imagines would it will be like to do that at the amusement park, where older women have taken grandchildren for a day of fun. He will have hundreds of older women all on cards to enjoy. His collection will be larger than Bob's. What fun for him. Many will be from other places so he will be less likely to bump into them when using their body. - Sara sits on Bob's lap, him inside her, bouncing along the shaft. She kisses his mouth often, her tongue playing with his. "Heard from Devon?" she asks. "Nope. You know he's into older women." "Nah, you're putting me on." "Of all the cards I had, he took 'Janet-64'." "Why, she's almost as old as 'my' mother." Sara laughs, but continues riding him. "I loaned him her documents. I might as well let him keep 'em." "Is she 'too' old for you?" "Maybe." "You and your twins." She playfully slaps him on the chest. "Maybe I'm too old for you." "But you're family. There's something about that, that turns me on." "Not by blood." She rides a few times, kissing him deeply. "Besides, maybe I like my men a lot younger," she says. "They stay nice and hard for a long time." "I should get my blue pills refilled." He groans. "Do you like to watch the twins together?" "Dirty ole woman. That's what you are." - Devon carries two more pair of crutches and a bag full of clothes. He had guessed the sizes of Doris and two other women from the morning at the diner. He'd guessed one was in their late thirties, the other late forties, each about the same size as Doris. He bought some sandals since they allowed for greater error in sizing. He would take notes, letting the wardrobe build over time. Aroused would have been an understatement. He was about to rip the zipper from his trousers. The front door clicks shut with help from a hip. The plan was to change into Janet then clone one of the three women, whoever fit into the clothing best. He'd let that woman go with one leg. Doris fit perfectly. So did the older of the other two women. The younger, the clothes were too tight. He chose Doris since she was the oldest of the three. "Thanks for picking me," she tells Janet as she dresses. "Having one leg is something I've wanted." "I know," Janet says, buttoning the blouse. "I think you're quite lovely without it." "Where're we going?" "There's a restaurant, I thought we'd try...Maxwell's Steaks. I don't think anyone will know us there." Doris steps close, a hand pulling against the small of Janet's back. Their lips touch, and stay together in a soft kiss for a long moment. "We could take Devon," Janet says when the kiss ends. "Nah. I have a feeling we'll click 'just' fine." She kisses her again. "I didn't know you liked women." "Oh, yeah-h. I do, I do." Janet walks alongside Doris though the small crowd at Maxwell's Steaks. She desperately wants to hold hands, something that is difficult with a person on crutches and they both understand. The sandal flops against Doris' heal with each step and annoys her. There will be time to buy more clothes and shoes soon. For now, this is fine. Heads turn and eyes follow the two women. Janet understands that it is Doris that has their attention, the missing leg, the crutches, and her pleasant appearance. There is a twinge of jealousy. Janet wishes she'd been without her leg. Now she wonders why she didn't have it off. Another time she assures herself. "You have their attention," Janet whispers in her ear just before the hostess seats them at a table by the wall. She leans the crutches against the wall and turns back to Janet. She takes her hand from across the table. "But you have my attention. That's what's important." She squeezes the hand lightly. "Two whiskeys," Janet tells the hostess before she walks away. She looks back at Doris. "Are you sorry we, or you, didn't come with Devon?" "Nope, not at all." She pauses. "How do we get rid of him?" She chuckles. "A part of me never wants to see him again." Janet understands she has his thoughts and that she is essentially talking about herself, about Devon. She clears her throat and sips the whiskey. "Are you serious?" "I'm intensely happy for the first time in my life. Maybe this body isn't the one to stay in, but being a woman is strangely nice." "You don't have to abandon him or his body." "I know. Maybe I'm a little compulsive. I don't know." Janet holds Doris' hand. "We probably can't stay in either of these bodies...that one for sure. I don't know where Bob found Janet." "Yes. There're plenty to choose from and we'll find ones that are 'safe' to be in out in public." Doris takes the first bite of dinner that has just arrived, chews, and swallows. "You know, I don't understand why Devon doesn't at least be himself, but with one leg. It would be easy to explain away." She sips. Janet leans back and holds her drink. "Whoa-a," she drawls then sips. "I'd never thought of that." "Yeah. Go away for vacation, come back sans leg, thanks to the device, and let everyone know about the accident that took the leg." "Deep down, he wants to be missing a leg. I, ah...." She falls silent and eats several bites. "He could experiment with different lengths of stump. I get the feeling he likes them short." Doris chuckles. - Friday morning at the Shady Inn, Devon can tell something is wrong as he kisses Loren the first time. She trembles in his arms then steps away. She turns back - pacing. "What?" he begs softly. "He knows. I don't know how." She paces. "I care...." He begins, trying to put an arm around her. She pushes him away. "I've been with him too long to leave. He's my life." "Ah...." "We both knew this was for fun. It was." "What are you saying?" "I can't keep doing this. I promised him I'd end it." She wraps her arms around his waist, hugging him without a kiss. "I, ah, think, ah, I under...." He wipes away a tear knowing this will be the last he sees her. "I just came to tell you." "I understand." He pulls the device out of his pocket. "Can we take pictures of each other? I'd like to have something to remember us by." "Sure, Devon." - The drive to the diner is with mixed emotions about Loren. Not having a commitment had been a major reason for the affairs. Loren had been special, had been his first amputee lover. By the time he closes the car door in the parking lot, Devon feels better. He fiddles with the memory card in his pocket knowing he will enjoy using it. "Hey, love." Doris picks a menu up. "Been thinking about me?" She chuckles, following him to his usual seat at the counter. "More than that." He pushes the coffee cup towards her and she fills it. "My, oh my. Did I enjoy it?" "Uh-huh. Don't tell your husband, but you are a wild-child in bed." "You got that right." She chuckles. "Your usual?" He nods and she scribbles the order on the pad. He watches her walk to the window by the cook and shoves the slip of paper into the metal clip. "Doris," he calls quietly. She leans low over the counter so their faces are close. "Sweetheart, you might be too young for me. I don't want to get arrested for cradle robbing." She waves a hand. "Ah, go on." She chuckles. "I have you know I'm fifty-six." "I have you know I have a 'thing' for women that are fifty-six." He flashes her a big smile. - A woman opens the front door to Bob's house. Devon knows as soon as the woman speaks she is the flight attendant from Atlanta that had answered Bob's phone Saturday when he called about football on Sunday. Donna wears only an unbuttoned man's dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up a few times. With a surprised expression on her face, she asks him in, stepping out of the way. "Crutches?" she says. "I have you know I have a weakness for men with one leg." For the last day and a half, he had been experimenting with having one leg, different stump lengths, what to do with the pants leg, and doing things on crutches. He had decided on a short stump, maybe three or four inches long. "Where's Bob?" She holds both hands out to the side. The shirt falls open exposing wonderful breasts. "What do you think?" She laughs. "Guess I should ask where you leg is." Devon follows her into the kitchen and holds the fridge door open while she pulls a few bottles of beer out. "It dawned on me the other night that I could spend time as me, but with one leg." "You should leave it that way." "Man, I'm thinking about it. You know, go away, vacation, come back this way 'cause of some tragic accident." "You got it." "Where'd you find this fine body?" "Same place I get all of my bodies." She laughs. "I travel a lot and I sweet talk strangers out of them. Am I too old?" "Probably not over forty, are you?" "You're sweet to say that. Forty-six." Back in the living room, they sit and she turns on the TV. The pre-game show is just starting. She turns towards him with one foot slightly under the other thigh exposing all between her legs. "Are you enjoying the device? Donna asks. "I haven't been me much." He laughs. "I've been Janet a bunch. I love that body." "Sixty-four...." "Yeah, I know. Most guys don't think a woman that old can be sexy. When I'm her, I watch other men and I see a surprising number of younger men enjoying me visually." Devon sips, rubs his crotch. "I brought back her driver's license." "Keep it. I'll give you the other documents for her." "Where is she from?" "Who knows, but not this country. I think the notes mentioned something. I forget, but I had the same concern." "Be hell to bump into her one day." "Many people look alike, or very similar." Donna finishes the beer. "I could let you try something younger." She chuckles. "Nothing too young." He chuckles. She stands and walks towards the office. "Come with me." He gathers the crutches under his arms and follows. "I've been cleaning out my card collection." Donna sits at the desk and pulls a folder from a drawer. "I knew you're into older women." She smiles. "Here are eight that you'll like." She pushes the folder towards him and he sits on the loveseat. "All have great bodies, breasts in good shape...mostly C's, a few large B's. A few petites, a few tall." Devon opens the folder finding enlarged pictures with descriptions on the back of each. He reads. 'Becca, 36, 5'3", 36C-28-36' He studies the picture of her facing the camera, naked, legs spread. "Good, god-d." "Yeah, she's really a hottie." He flips the page and reads. 'Callie, 50, 5'4", 36C-28-38' "Shit! Where'd you find these?" "Everywhere. Don't worry. You'll be safe using these anywhere. I have documents for each of them." He flips the page and reads. 'Ginger, 47, 5'3", 34B-24-34' "Stunning," he whispers. "Her breasts look larger than that." He flips the page and reads. 'Kelly, 43, 5'7", 36C-25-38' "God-d, I might make an exception for this one." "Oh, yeah-h. Something about her breasts, they light my fire. She has an appearance that would fit in anywhere. I like that much more than the 'stunning knock-out' look." "That's what I like too. Ginger was like that." He flips the page and reads. 'Robbie, 44, 5'11", 36E-26-38' Donna chuckles. "I know you like smaller breasts than hers, but with her height, they look good." "Uh-huh." He flips the page and reads. 'Sara Lynn, 47, 5'2", 38C-28-38' Again, Donna chuckles. "A little thick, but carries the extra weight nicely. Great ass, don't you think?" "Wow-w." He flips the page and reads. 'Annabelle, 55, 5'7", 34B-28-36' "Great breasts on her," Donna says. "With that height, she'd be hot in a dress or jeans with a blouse." "One more." He flips the page and reads. 'Teya, 38, 5'7", 34D-26-36' Donna hands him an envelop of cards and another folder with the documents for each. "Are you sure?" "Yes. I'm just happy to know you are enjoying yourself." She laughs. "Sorry I don't have clothes for them." "I'm getting the hang of women's clothes sizes." He groans. "Sounds like there was a touchdown. Should we go see what's happening?" "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to focus." He laughs. "So many cards, so little time." He laughs again. "There're a few more if those don't work." She settles on the couch and begins another bottle of beer. "Do you like them a little thick in the middle?" "Like Sara Lynn? She's nice looking. Why?" "I was just curious." "Callie was lovely. I think she was the thickest, but still lovely." "Which was your favorite?" "Just one?" He groans. "Kelly or Annabelle." He sighs. "Or Becca." He laughs. "Or Ginger." "Good, I expect to see you as them often." - Kelly is a nice compromise for age and lovely in many ways. Annabelle is a close second. Devon has Kelly's measurements as he walks though the department store on crutches looking for women's clothes. He fends off offers to help from clerks far too young. Searching though the dresses, he picks two - one a pale blue, the other a simple print. He will come back as her and begin to buy more for her and the others. A quick search of panties finds a pack of hip huggers and one of boy-cut panties. A pack of bikini panties catches his eye before he can escape. He adds it to the collection. No way to buy shoes without trying them on so he hopes the sandals will fit for now. "Let me carry those," the saleswoman offers. "Thanks. The one bad thing about crutches." "You were handling it quite well. I was impressed." She scans a barcode. "I sometimes have to use crutches, bum leg." She scans another. "Sometimes I get so fed up I beg the doctor to just amputate." She scans again. "Having one leg isn't so bad, is it?" "I don't mind." He looks at the woman, probably in her early thirties. "How would your husband feel about that?" "I don't know." She chuckles, scanning the last item and telling him the price. He nods and hands her a credit card. "Thanks." - After a quick stop at a drive-thru burger joint, Devon is home and pouring the clothes on the bed. He slips into Kelly, removes the left leg, just a short stump like the one she has settled on, and then snips off the tags from the pale blue dress. She balances on one foot, holding the dress to her shoulders, admiring the way it hangs to just above the knee. She sits and puts it on. One of the shoes with a medium-heal fits well and she leaves it on. "One outfit for me," Kelly says aloud, dropping the receipts on the desk. The phone rings. A soft southern accent greets her. "Which one are you?" "Kelly. I had to pick one to buy clothes for first." "I bet you look hot. Have you tried the others?" "Not yet. I will. Right now I feel like a kid in a candy store." "Forty-three not a bad age." "Nope. She has a great body, and beautiful. I can't wait to go out as her, as me. Whatever." She giggles. "I could pick any of them and be ecstatic." "I thought you'd like those." She blows a kiss. "Gotta run. Later." Kelly listens to the dial tone for a moment before hanging up. "Thanks." In the closet are the divider circles along the rod, the kind used on clothing racks to separate items by size. There are labels with names for each woman. On the shelves are plastic storage bins with similar labels. Shoes, undergarments, and accessories fill each. Tomorrow there will be more of each and more clothes. Perhaps some of these can be recycled since being those women is risky. She holds some dresses for Doris against her and decides to wait to throw things away until she has a chance to be each of the eight. Maybe the clothes will fit them. For the next few hours, Devon tries each. Each is equally as wonderful. Exhausted, Annabelle falls asleep next to a clone of Ginger. - "Hey lover," Doris teases. Devon returns a smile, carrying the newspaper to his usual seat. She fills his coffee cup. "Did we have a nice weekend?" "Yeah, we spent it all in bed. I'm exhausted." "I knew I was good, but not that good." She laughs. "Usual?" He nods and unfolds the paper to the travel section of the Sunday edition. She returns and leans against the counter. "Were are going? I hope there's a nude beach." She chuckles, rubbing hands over the front of her dress, chest pushed forward. He looks at the paper again. She is pours coffee for two older men laughing about something. He listens, but the joke must be over because they are quiet again. She brings his plate, refills the cup. "When are we leaving? I need to let Herb know he'll be sleeping alone for a while." "Don't know yet. I need to work something out at work first. I thought I'd start looking at destinations. Something warm and sandy, you know." "Club Med, or Sandals," she suggests. "Maybe." He begins to eat and she wanders away, knowing it is only friendly kidding with a good customer. - Devon gives himself a night as each, going out shopping for more - shoes, short pants, jeans, blouses, tee shirts, and swimsuits. Robbie points to a pair of high-heals and the young clerk goes into the storeroom. She settles in a chair adjusting the skirt to reveal a little more of her long legs, then kicks off a sandal. "I brought several so we can find...." The clerk's gaze had wandered up her legs and now suddenly struck mute when he notices there are no panties. She adjusts the dress slightly, leaving her knees apart a little. "Sorry." He smiles and fits a shoe to one foot. She flexes the ankle and he puts the other on. She knows he won't be able to stand for a while without a prominent bulge. She takes a turn around the chair and sits again. "I'll take them." The poor man - treated the same by eight women. - Devon sits at his deck, shuffling the eight cards with fingertips. He is surprised at the age distribution - two 50's, four 40's, and two 30's. They are all lovely. In some ways, he is surprised at how much he likes the younger women. He had not expected that kind of response. He struggles to rank them and fails several times. "Ginger, Sara Lynn, or Kelly," he babbles to himself. "Annabelle is the oldest and in some ways I like her a lot." He pushes those four cards to one side. One at a time, he slips into the four bodies, spending fifteen minutes - some undressed, some dressed, and a little time missing a leg. He often stands in front of the tall dressing mirror looking, modeling, and trying to decide. Back as Devon, he pushes Annabelle and Kelly back into the larger pile. "Two," he mutters. He had been hoping that there would be a single standout to go on vacation as. A week, maybe two as a woman with one leg seems like the perfect definition of heaven. Device: Older Women Finally, he pushes Sara Lynn into the big pile. He's happy with the results, after all Ginger is forty-seven and beautiful. It would be hard to imagine not being happy with her body. Ginger adjusts the crutches then removes all but a few inches of the left leg. She finds jeans and a blouse to wear, puts on a comfortable shoe, and makes sure the correct driver's license is in the purse. Before she makes it to the front door, the phone rings. "Hi Donna." "Hmmm, love the voice. Which one are you?" "Ginger. Listen, I was on my way to Maxwell's Steaks. Company would be fun." "Great. Let me dress and I'll meet you at the bar there." Ginger sits on a barstool sipping a whiskey for five minutes before Donna arrives. She stands on the one foot and gives her a hug, then a peck on the lips. It didn't matter that in reality it was almost Devon kissing his Uncle Bob. Fortunately, since they were both in women's bodies it didn't seem that way at all. "I loved that body," Donna says, taking the neighboring stool then ordering whatever Ginger is having. "You seem to be staying in that one a lot." "All but a few hours a week when I have to go to a meeting of some kind." She thanks the bartender then sips. "I'm thinking about staying in it fulltime." "Really? What about dad and mom?" "I haven't worked out all the details. How about you?" "I erased all the cards I had before you gave me the eight. Oh, I still have 'Janet-64'." He chuckles. "I broke my cherry with her." "And the eight?" "I've been one a day while I'm not at work. I've been out, shopping for clothes and such. Now I have a good wardrobe for them all. I wanted to try them out to see how I feel in each. Lately I've been wrestling with how to select the best of eight." She groans. "Today I narrowed it down to four, then two, then this one." She sips. "This is a good choice. As I said, she was one of my favorites of the eight. I don't know how you narrowed them down. I couldn't have." She sips. "Lets get a table and order dinner," Ginger says. Donna and Ginger follow the waitress to a table by the wall. Ginger leans the crutches there then takes a single hop before sitting. "You look good with one leg. It suits you." "Thanks. I owe you so much." "Actually, it is I that owe you so much. If it weren't for you and that Sunday, I'd still be hiding out about my feelings. Hey, now I'm actually...." The food arrives interrupting the sentence. It didn't matter. They both know the thought, it said several times already. They eat in silence, occasionally glancing at each other. "Good. I was hungry," Donna says, pushing the empty plate away and folding the napkin. "Uh-huh." Ginger finishes then sips the last of the whiskey. "What now?" Donna reaches across and rests a hand on one of Ginger's. She smiles, keeping the touch. "I like you," Ginger says. "I need someone in my life. Talking to a clone is too much like talking to myself." Donna groans. "I, ah, Bob likes women and I don't see me dating men." "I guess I've been busy trying to pick a body." Ginger laughs. "I have a feeling I'd be more comfortable with a woman too. Devon's never been with a man." She sucks on an ice cube. "I was thinking of going away for two weeks. I don't know where. Would you like to join me?" "A friend owns a villa in the Bahamas. I'll see if we can rent it. My treat." "Yeah. Maybe two weeks will help us clear our thoughts and find what we need to do." "Yeah." Donna squeezes her hand again. - Ginger goes home with Donna after dinner at Maxwell's Steaks. Devon had liked Bob for all his life. Bob had been more of a parent than his real father had. His mother had been distant as well. It was easy to be close as women. For either it would have been out of the question if one remained a man. Donna unfastens Ginger's belt, unzips the jeans, slips them down her leg. She pecks kisses over the panties, nibbling the fabric with her teeth. A hand fondles the stump. "Ah-h, Ginger moans, a finger slipping inside - the panties now on the floor. Donna shifts position, letting them have access to each other. She enjoys the taste of her new lover. She enjoys what her lover is doing to her. - The villa is marvelous, secluded. Large accordion doors fold open to let the trade winds cool the house. Ginger traveled with one leg. Now she walks about the house on crutches checking for accessibility and looking for views. A large vanishing edge pool faces the ocean. A soft breeze catches her short skirt, blowing it up over a hip on one side. "Honey, you'll give me a heart attack," Donna teases in her soft drawl, unbuttoning her own blouse another button. "We should get our swimsuits out." "Or just get naked." Her hand moves though the air as if suggesting no one will see if they do. "And here I spent so much time finding just the right thong." She laughs. A woman appears introducing herself as Maria, the cook and housekeeper. She lives in town and is available each morning, if needed. She asks if they would like lunch. They say they would. Ginger, an avid reader, takes her book and reclines on the lounge chair by the pool. A baseball cap keeps the sun from her eyes as she watches the surf more than the page. Sometimes she glances at the single foot stretch out beyond her, the empty place where the other would have been. Thrilling. She doesn't hear Maria put the tall glass of rum punch on the small table beside her. "Like heaven," Donna says. Ginger didn't realize she was there, so entranced with the day. "There's a great drink, if you want." She points at the glass. Ginger sips. "Yum." She sips again. "I could get used to this life." Maria brings sandwiches, says there is food in the fridge, ready for warming at dinner. She explains where several nice restaurants are nearby and she will be back at nine in the morning to cook breakfast. She leaves as quietly as she arrived. "Heaven," Ginger says before sipping again. "Mark mentioned he might want to sell this place." "Hmmm. Tempting. Are you considering moving?" "I don't know any other way, do you?" Ginger shakes her head and drops the bookmark into the book. She sits and turns putting the barefoot on the pavement. The time as Ginger has left little doubt about being her or missing a leg. She studies Donna, feeling an attraction growing. "No, and it's not because I haven't thought about it. I don't know what to do about 'them'." "Your mother and father?" Donna sips. "I've never been all that close to him. He hates that I was successful. I don't think that she likes me much either." She sips. "I'm not sorry they live so far away. I am glad you decided to move near me after the university." "Yeah." She sips. "You've been good to me all my life. Those summers up at the lake, you driving the boat and letting me ski all day. That was the best." "Yup." "Any ideas?" "Nope. Not yet." Donna walks into the house. Ginger returns to her book, flexing the ankle and wiggling the toes a few times. A summer at the lakes flashes through her mind. The kindly older woman with one leg at the burger stand, how she shared a picnic table with him. They had talked for hours after finishing the food. No one had done that before. It made him feel like an adult. Her name was Brenda. He had not thought of her for years. That summer she was all he thought of. She became his ideal woman. Girls his age never rose to that level for him - not in beauty or conversation. She had lost the leg in an accident a few years before, enough of the leg that she could not use a prosthetic leg well. She preferred crutches, said that she felt more functional that way. Her husband died in the same accident and she moved in with another woman. At the time, he did not understand why. Now it is clear. He had met Brenda at the burger stand several more times and each she had treated him as though he was the only person she wanted to talk. He had been in love, truly in love, for the first time that summer and no one knew. Donna returns, wearing a black bikini covering little. "I might as well go naked," the teases, sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet playfully splashing. A moment later, she slides into the water. Ginger returns to the book, her attention mostly on the surf not far away. Donna dangles from the edge, both elbows on the row of tiles around the pool. "Hey," she calls. Ginger returns to the present, realizing she has been thinking about Brenda. "What?" "Come in, the water is great." "In a minute." Thoughts of Brenda return quickly and even the sounds of the surf vanish. Her life changed because of the accident. If that had not happened, would she have found Gloria? Would she have been as happy with her husband? An accident, yeah, an accident, she thinks - almost aloud. Ginger undresses and hops to the pool. She swims to the far end stopping behind Donna standing, watching a couple neck in the edge of the ocean. Little pecks on her neck and a gentle tug at the bowtie of the bikini top, then Donna turns. "Hey sweetheart," Donna coos. "I like your choice in swimwear." She smiles, kissing her softly. "I don't want this to end." Ginger returns the kiss, a hand lightly stroking the front of the bikini bottom. "Me either. These past few days, nights, back home, here, convinced me of that." "Now we just need a plan." "Let me know when you have one. I keep drawing blanks." Ginger's finger slips past the elastic, teasing all underneath. Soon the fabric floats away. Donna's leg rises, wraps Ginger lightly. - "Another day in paradise," Maria offers as the women emerge from the bedroom, following their noses towards the rich smell of fresh brewed coffee. They wear only long tee shirts and show no signs of embarrassment when Maria studies them for an extra minute. "Smells good-d," Donna drawls in her southern accent. "I could get used to this kind of life," Ginger says. "Me too," Maria offers with a chuckle, cracking some eggs into a bowel. "I don't get to work enough days now. The economy is bad and people don't travel much." "If I lived here, maybe I would need help," Ginger says, looking down at the single barefoot. "Yes, I could," she offers in a thick Caribbean accent mixed with a dash of British. English muffins pop up from the toaster just as she pours the eggs onto a plate. "I hope this will be okay." "Perfect," Donna says. Maria leaves the kitchen so they will have some privacy and goes to the bedroom to change the linens. The women sit at the kitchen island looking out the doors folded open. The sound of the surf occasionally fills the room. "Wow-w," Ginger mumbles. "Huh?" "A full day in this body. You couldn't pay me enough to be Devon again." Donna swallows the bite, sips some coffee. "Do you remember the first time you felt this way?" "Missing a leg...." She finishes a bite. "Since one summer when I stayed with you up at the lake." She sips. "Being a woman, I don't know. I just know I'm happy now." "In that body or 'any' woman's body?" Ginger gives her a quick glance. "Yeah." She laughs. "I don't know the answer to that. How about you?" "All my life I wanted to be this way. I used to wear friends dresses when I was little. They thought it was cute." She groans. "I knew I was in the wrong body. As an adult...." She sips. "Not all the money in the world would have given me a passable appearance. I knew I was fucked." "Did dad ever know?" "Hell no! He was always bigoted. Faggot this, faggot that. He hated gays, called them queers. There was a butch woman lived nearby for a while. Goddamn if he didn't go on and on about her. Dyke, bitch." "But you were wearing dresses." "He never knew. If he did, he didn't let on." Donna sips the last of the coffee in the cup then refills both cups. "I hated his ass for that." "Is that why you never married?" "I almost did, once. Sandy was a doll. I met her in graduate school. Things were hot and heavy for six months. I thought I was 'cured' until I met a transgendered woman. I didn't know at first, but it became clear. I talked for hours with June about it. Sandy found out and left me." "Did June have surgery?" "Nah. For lots of reasons, I guess. I think she liked being a guy down there and a woman up top. She was pretty, one of the lucky ones for sure. If you saw her on the street, you could not tell she'd started as a guy." "What happened to June?" "I don't know. She dropped out of school and I never heard from her again. She did take me to a few places where others hung out...bars and such. I dated one other like June. Jill was missing a leg, longer stump than yours. Sweet young thing." "Really?" "I never told anyone in the family. They wouldn't have understood. I stayed in touch with Jill for a few years after she found a 'natural' woman she liked a lot. Guess the chick was hot for amputees. I was too chicken back then to be with someone like Jill. The missing leg, the dick...." Donna chuckles. "Damn, that was hot." "Thanks for sharing that. I understand." Ginger kisses Donna for a moment. Maria returns, blushes, and takes the dirty linens and towels to the laundry room. "Ready for a swim?" Donna says. "Maybe this is a good time to try on the swimsuit." She chuckles. "Don't mind me if you want to skinny dip," Maria says as she begins to wash the dishes. Donna swims the length of the pool several times stopping beside Ginger. They hang from the edge of the pool, kicking feet idly near the surface. "Look at that surf," Ginger says. "Can you believe we're here? I'm still...well this is all pretty wonderful." "Uh-huh." "Do you ever want to be missing a leg?" "Sometimes, but watching you is almost enough." "I understand." "Listen," Donna begins, letting her feet drop to the bottom. "You mentioned an accident changing Brenda's life." "Yeah." "I've been thinking. If Bob writes a will leaving everything to me, he could die and I'd still have the money, the property...everything." "Sure. You could go back and just resume life. What about me?" "Hell, I'm sure you die in the same accident." Donna roars with laughter. "But, what about work? How would I support myself?" "Silly." Donna kisses Ginger passionately for a long moment. "We'll be together. I'll take care of you. Bob can leave Ginger money too." "You might be onto something that could work. I'd hate to think about what it'd do to mom and dad." "They don't give a rats ass about either of us. You know that. They live five hundred miles away. We'd never have to see them." "I guess." "Listen, let it roll around that fine mind of yours." "Could we live here?" They both laugh. "In a heartbeat," Donna says. "In a heartbeat."