Life Buoy for an Amputee or an Amputee Who Is a Life Buoy?_(0)

Chapter 1
Life with one leg

I was a normal child, born with two legs, like everyone else but that didn’t last long. It is a blessing that I now have a happy life but let me tell you the story from the beginning.

My name is Wendy Adair and I was born into a middle class family. My father, George Adair, was the owner of a financial advisory firm and quite wealthy. My mother, Sarolta Adair, was stay-at-home mother and wife who raised we three children. There is me, the youngest, my elder brother Carl, and my sister Jessica. My mother came from Hungary where my maternal grandparents still live in Budapest. Jessica was attending college taking business administration, and Carl, already graduated, was working for an architectural firm. I wanted to be a primary school teacher, because I liked younger children very much. I had given my virginity to my high school sweetheart, Don. He and I planned to go to the same college where he would study to become a chemist.

After graduation we had this last summer to enjoy before the hard work of university started. All went well until one evening, as usual, we went dancing with our usual friends. We generally refused any sort of drugs, but this evening, our group, unfortunately decided to experiment a little. Don’s friend Frank drove everybody home in his car, even though he was under the influence of the drugs like the rest of us.

That was how the accident happened. Frank didn’t see the dairy transport tanker until it was too late and my life changed for ever.

Everybody was hurt to some degree but I was the most seriously injured; the rescue crew had to cut me free from the car. They got me out alive, but my right leg was so damaged by crush injuries, it could not be saved and the surgeons had to amputate. I will never forget the shock when I awoke in my hospital bed. They said I was lucky even to survive – true but of little consolation at the time. The others in the car recovered quickly but I was not so fortunate. They started their college lives, while I had to learn to live with one leg. Don went to college and his love for the amputee vanished in the distance.

After all the years it is interesting that my youngest. Becky and Don’s eldest are classmates in primary school. Don avoids me when he sees me at parent/school meetings or in town. I know he feels a great deal of remorse for abandoning me but I don’t care. I have a good husband and we are blessed with two beautiful, smart and healthy children and enjoy a great life together.

But let me go back in time and tell you how my husband and I became a married couple, and how we live our life.

After the accident my life took a turn and even the simplest things became a challenge. I was always a good student and focused on what I had to do to learn to cope with my new condition. I lived at home with my parents and, although a little depressed at first, started to accustom my self to this change in my life. Family support and my love of life eventually triumphed and I used my crutches to get about more and more. With practice and blessed by youth, I became very adept and walked our neighborhood streets, venturing further away as I got more accustomed to everything. My parents bought a Ford Focus station wagon with an automatic transmission and I put my crutches in the back seat and drove anywhere I needed to go.

I was still an attractive young woman; blond hair, blue eyes and firm, C cup breasts. I caused a stir in the places I went but my list of acquaintances had mostly dwindled to the shop assistants and waitresses of the places I visited. My old classmates were away in college, so I didn’t have many friends to talk to. Only one of my high school classmates, Jane, visited me sometimes but that was irregular at best as she was at college too.

Later, though, when getting about was no longer such a challenge, I got so snappy at home that my mother thought I should devote myself to some “useful activity”. She urged me to help with the housework but moving in narrow places turned out to be more difficult than in the spacious streets and malls. Simple household chores were a tough nut for a cripple!

It was my brother and Dad who finally solved this; between them they invented and fabricated equipment that helped me to do whatever I wanted, or rather, whatever my parents wanted me to do. They changed the whole house, they really did! The renovations included the replacing the kitchen furniture (a rolling chair was permanently stationed in the middle, while low benches offered comfortable and safe support on all sides), the installation of special frames to lean against, and handrails all around the walls to hold onto. As well there were massive poles connecting the floor with the ceiling, built in exactly like in a pole-dance studio. My sister often laughed at these, and kept saying we lived in a cross between a subway carriage and a strip club.

My brother would add, grinning, “I bet you’re gonna have a house just like this one day and a good husband too…to watch you stripping on the poles for him!”

“Yeah, and that’ll make him want you…so you can’t escape starting a family you know; you’ll want a couple of kids to play on your jungle gym,” Jessica giggled in my ear, hugging me in the loving way she always did.

I could tell that under the humor they really meant it. Glancing around at my monkey bars, I didn’t quite believe them, but I was wrong.

Using the frames I assisted my Mom every day, and no wonder I became a housework expert, indeed, a dream of a housewife. Washing up and washing were a piece of cake, cleaning went smooth and quick, but best of all I turned out to be a first-class cook! I learned to cook foreign cuisines but especially the Hungarian style of my Mom’s origin. My favorite dish was Hungarian Goulash soup and I prepared it excellently. As soon as I began to be useful at home, my depression disappeared and I became more cheerful. I was lucky to have as good a sense of humor as the rest of my family. That was what helped me through the worst of times.

My sex life was bleak at best; I had a vibrator and I masturbated and that was it. I was a beautiful girl, so I met some men, but except for some one-night stands and flings I didn’t have a boyfriend. Nobody wanted me as a constant companion. Like I said, my siblings were convinced that I would have a good husband and children but I was totally skeptical about that. I thought of myself as a loser, dream about kids and family in an unattainable, eternal fantasy.

My sister once said that it was unlikely I would find a husband amongst the normal group of bachelors so I would have to seek my lover in a different group. I stared at her blankly. “A different circle? Does he have to be a cripple like me, or what?”

“No, of course not! Well, not necessarily… umm, at least, not the way you think.”

“What the hell you mean?” I hated her elusive answers.

“Oh, you’ll understand when you’re a little older,” she shrugged, leaving me confused. Now I know what she meant.

Meanwhile, both my brother and my sister married, moving into their own homes and began baby production. I stayed at home with my parents although I was almost twenty-one. Too bad! But, to do something with my life, I started learning PC skills and was soon pretty good at the net.

When my twenty-first birthday came, my family organized a party for me. My brother, for some obscure reason, arranged that his colleague, that is, the co-owner of the construction firm he had recently founded, also got invited to my party. At first I panicked, but deep inside I was really looking forward to meeting him…though given the circumstances, I didn’t know what to expect.

Chapter 2
An almost total loser

I called myself an almost total loser, only “almost” because I had one good friend. And to be in possession of a good friend, in my view, was one of the things that showed I was not an absolutely “total” loser after all. There is, however, another reason reinforcing this fact, but I’ll you about that later.

My name is John Logan. I was born in a construction worker’s family and grew up to be a tall, brown haired, gray-eyed man. My Mom was a supermarket cashier and I had two younger sisters, Beth and Eve. As I was the eldest sibling, I learned to be responsible in the family. My Dad, a very hardworking and honest man, drilled good work ethics and deep moral principles into me.

We lived in a small house and my father and his colleagues helped each other build their own houses. The firm where they worked lent them the equipment and instruments to complete the task. I worked with my Dad to build our house with this method while I was still in high school. When our new house and swimming pool was ready, Dad and I went to help his colleagues in their projects. I garnered invaluable experience in the construction industry doing this and, as I did well at high school, Dad sent me to college to be an architect.

I was a good student at college too, and my practical knowledge won me praise several times during my studies. It was soon apparent I was clearly more drawn to the execution of a construction rather than design.

I must mention that I have a funny preference for milk over beer, but I hid this while at the college.

I lost my virginity after high school graduation but I didn’t have a steady girlfriend. I dated several girls at college and finally met Amy. She was tall, brown-haired and brown-eyed and very confident, studying economics and to become a finance expert. I fell for her and we found we were sexually compatible so life followed a proven path: we were in love, and marriage after college was unquestioned. My father-in-law, a successful entrepreneur, gave us a rather large sum of money as a wedding present. We spent it to purchase a half-ready house, which my father and I could easily finish. Meanwhile I worked at a construction firm and Amy was at a local bank. No sooner had we moved in than Amy got pregnant and we decided to keep the baby. A year after our first daughter, Caroline, was born we had our second, Zoë.

Amy remained at home with the girls and I worked hard at the firm, becoming, due to my efforts, one of the foremen responsible for building completions. My income grew accordingly and now my salary made up for Amy’s missing income while she stayed home with the girls. When Zoë was five we took our daughters to kindergarten and Amy found a good job at a local bank.

I worked with an architect, Carl Adair, who came to us right after graduation. He was talented in finding new projects. We often had lunch together, often discussing founding our own firm. He persuaded me we would make a good pair as owners. He and his dad had a little joint venture, which Carl planned to use as the basis to finance the start of our business. As for me, I had to rely on my dad’s savings. Eventually, I asked Dad for the investment, and like Carl’s father, he seemed quite enthusiastic too. He wanted 25% of the firm in return but promised to help us with good, skilled workers, who we badly needed. Besides, I could always purchase his stake back from him later. Carl’s dad gave his son the money as a present, and also provided us with a discount loan. That was how we founded our construction company.

We worked hard, but I tried hard to avoid that having a negative effect on my sex life. I thought I was successful in this, as we averaged sex three times a week which is supposedly the norm for a married couple with children.

Years passed, and our eldest, Caroline, went on to primary school. She found a friend there, a nice little girl called Emily who often came to play with Caroline and Zoë. Emily’s father, a widower, Tom Coustou, usually brought her and became a regular, welcome guest in our house. He had lost his wife to leukemia before Emily started school. We all pitied them, but Amy was especially sympathetic to Tom. She talked to him in the kitchen for hours while the girls played and I watched TV in the living room. I was so clueless!

Now that I come to think of it, the painful moment of my waking up to my wife’s real nature came when Tom entered our life. But for Tom, she could have stolen another ten tears from me before her perfidy crashed down on me. I’m very objective now, but I spent almost two years in hell gaining this objectivity.

A month before the end of the school term Tom announced he was transferred to the Seattle branch of his company and they were moving there immediately after school ended. We were sorry to hear that as my daughters would lose Emily and Amy and I would lose Tom, whom I still believed to be a good friend. Two weeks before they left, however, when they came to visit us, my eyes were finally opened.

As usual, I was watching TV alone, because Tom went to the kitchen to talk with Amy and the girls played in their room. Staring at a sports match I began to feel I could do with a snack, I got up and went to the kitchen. I stopped dead it the doorway, petrified by the sight of Tom and my wife having sex! Amy was bent over the kitchen counter and Tom was fucking her from behind.

“…Tom, you’ve been a great lover for the past half year…it’s pity it’s over now,” moaned Amy in a low tone.

“I regret it too, my dear” whispered Tom.

I stood there for a moment and then went for my baseball bat. I saw red and couldn’t control my rage. Yet when my hands firmly clenched my bat, all the possibilities flashed in my mind. I hesitated. If I broke the bastard lover boy’s legs or arms, he would be in hospital in our city and therefore keep his present job. I would go to prison for three years, while my wife and the lonely Tom would live together. After the divorce they would go to Seattle with my daughters…I gave up the baseball bat solution and went back to watch TV.

During the match I worked out the following plan: I would divorce my wife, not immediately, but in four or five months’ time. The postponed divorce would give a last family summer to my daughters. Then school begins again and it would be difficult to move them to Seattle during the term. So I would have the chance to see my girls after the divorce.

Keeping in mind that Tom was lucky to move to Seattle to avoid my wrath, I played the role of a calm, sleepy husband when Tom and Emily said goodbye and left for home.

We went to Myrtle Beach for two weeks in July and I played with my daughters a lot, for I knew this holiday with them was the last for a long time. I treated my wife like a no-charge escort and she never noticed the change in my attitude until the end!

I counted the months and found a good divorce attorney at the end of September. I wanted a simple divorce, because family law in our state did not provide a no-fault-option divorce. My lawyer told me I had little chance of getting custody of the children, because I couldn’t prove my wife’s extramarital sex in our house near our children. I should have taken a video or some photos. I had missed that point, and in such cases, unfortunately, the court rarely gave the children custody to the father.

As for property division, I wanted to give the house to Amy and keep the shares in the company as my own.

My lawyer prepared the documents and I asked him to wait for the right time to serve them on her. I proved to be a very good fortuneteller, because soon after, Amy and I got an E-mail from Tom saying he had met a divorced woman with a daughter and he and Emily had moved in with them. I knew this was the right time to start the divorce.

At the start of November I talked with Carl, telling him I needed some time for a family matter. He said it was OK.

I had to act quickly to arrange everything. I transferred half of the funds in our joint account to a new personal account first thing in the morning. Then I took the girls to my parents’ right from the school, and put the divorce documents in my bag. I had located an apartment and took my most important personal belongings there. After that I came back home, put the rest of my stuff in my car, and sat down in the living room to wait for Amy. When she arrived from work she was quite mad at me.

“Where are the girls?” she demanded. “You went to the school for the girls and you didn’t say anything about it. Did you forget to phone me?”

I looked at her calmly. “Amy, I want a divorce and I’m moving.”

She was astonished first, but she regained her composure quickly and attempted a counterattack. “You…Why…Have you got a new slut?”

I kept my tone reserved. “I caught you with Tom in the kitchen during his last visit. I decided to divorce you that evening, but I wanted to spend one more summer with my daughters. But the perfect time to leave you has now arrived.”

I was not completely honest, because I had waited for Tom to settle completely in Seattle, but a cheating wife didn’t deserve fair treatment or honest confessions. She responded calmly as if she had opened the Cheating Wives Handbook at the relevant chapter in her mind.

“John, that was a one-time mistake…it won’t happen again…I’m so sorry about it.” She forced out a teardrop. “Please, Dear, let’s work on it together… we must… We have two daughters and they deserve a normal family life. I’ll be your faithful wife in the future…I promise. Please, John! Let’s stay together for our daughters’ sake…..I only did it because I felt so sorry for Tom, a widower and a single father, having to leave his native city with his daughter…. Please, forgive me! It was just a one-time stumble, that’s all it was, really! We must stay together…… Think of our daughters!” she begged and would have continued for God knows how long.

I interrupted her tirade, “I heard you talking about a six month affair. That certainly isn’t a one-time mistake.”

She began to cry. I thought she was giving up the struggle as she sat down and wept a while.

“Thanks to my desire for a last family holiday with my daughters, our marriage got some months grace, you see. But like I said, I’m moving now,” I repeated, just to make sure she got he message.

My soon-to-be-ex-wife wiped her eyes and stood up.

“You’re a liar!” she shouted at me, all of a sudden, “You waited until Tom had settled permanently in Seattle…I can see that clear enough. OK, honey, you’ll get what you want. I won’t fight against the divorce, but you won’t see the girls much, I promise you that. No one can make me let you…”

Her unexpected outburst took me by surprise, “No one?” I coughed. “Courts…lawyers….”

She looked straight into my eyes, “Lawyer or court is one thing, but I’m not going to budge!”

Amy stood in front of me proudly, head high, satisfied to have found a retaliatory weapon. That image was engraved in my mind forever.
I told her where our daughters were and quickly left.

The divorce was quick. Amy got the house and I got the company shares. The court gave me two days a month with my daughters from Friday afternoon to Sunday evening. That was not much but I got Boxing Day and my birthday weekend too, so I thought I could put up with this schedule after all. However, Amy took her revenge seriously, and she kept finding a way to prevent me from seeing the girls despite the decision of the court. There was always some school program or other event for the children to attend at the weekend so my court-ordered time with them was reduced to mere bi-monthly events. My lawyer was honest and told me plainly that it would be a waste of time and money if I went to court again; my wife would remain the custodial parent and still be able to not obey the judicial decision.

On the other hand, I seemed lucky in the love department. I met a beautiful, twenty-four year old woman at a friend’s BBQ party. Nancy was a tall, very sexy brunette blessed with D cup tits. A Business Administration grad, she worked at a local insurance company and seemed to come from a normal background. Now I think I was bewildered to find this gorgeous young woman as a new partner so quickly after my divorce, and I didn’t detect any negatives; I didn’t even think about the pitfalls of ‘rebound relationships’. I was thirty-three years old, and a lonely, divorced man…she was like a miracle to me. Things were going smoothly for us, so Nancy moved into my apartment soon after we met. We had only lived together for three months when I asked her to be my wife. She said yes and we started planning our wedding.

We had a wild, almost perfect sex life. The only thing that was a bit strange was that Nancy was obsessed with finishing the action with my sperm on her face. This is a very sexy thing if a couple does it once in a while, as a variation of other sex but she wanted it lots; on almost every occasion. That should have warned me she might be a sex addict!

The wedding was a small-scale event with few guests. Only our parents and close relatives, and some of our best friends were invited. My partner Carl, was my best man, and her best friend was the maid of honor.

Right before the wedding ceremony Nancy was alone with me for a short while in one of the rooms. To my ultimate surprise, there, kneeling down on the floor in her wedding dress and in only a couple of minutes, she gave me quite an unexpected blow job! When she was done, she wiped my sperm on her face and spread it all over her cheeks and neck. She hugged everybody with this makeup during the wedding and the reception. I thought this was a little weird, I admit, but I was so happy to find a woman nine years younger than me, that I was blind as a bat. We danced a lot that evening and left for our honeymoon in Cancun the next day.

In Cancun we did what newlyweds usually do, so mostly we were in bed together. Despite Nancy’s appetite, which I later diagnosed as incurably libertine regarding choice of partners, I am entirely sure that she did not cheat on me during our honeymoon, because we were together all day long, except for bathroom time.

We got back a week later and began work again. One day, just a week later, I had to run back home in the afternoon for some important documents I carelessly left on my desk that morning. On turning into our drive, I found two unknown cars parked next to my wife’s. At first I didn’t think anything wrong, yet by instinct I entered the house as quietly as possible. From the hall, alas, I could hear the sounds of sex coming from our bedroom. I went blind with rage and dashed for my trusty bat.

No one saw or heard me coming. One of the men was between my wife’s legs, while the other, his eyes squeezed shut, was getting a blow job from her. My wife’s eyes, compressed by lust, were two pencil-thin lines too.

Bat in hand, furious, I went at them without warning. No sounds, no hesitation, no wasted motion. With two massive blows I broke both lover boys’ legs. I saw their bodies jerk but left them no time to scream as my bat went whack-whack again and broke an arm on each guy. Then I stopped.

Now, as I watched them wail and yell in pain, in true agony, I could feel my anger dissipate and I silently left.

But my (again!) soon-to-be-ex-wife ran after me, shouting, “You brutal animal! You’ll go to prison for this!”

“Maybe, but at least I won’t be living with a fuck machine,” I retorted.

“You’re a violent beast! I’ll divorce you!” Her tone was contemptuous, her posture domineering.

“Go on. It’s good news. Very kind of you,” I replied sarcastically, somewhat amazed by the audacity and arrogance of a woman who had been married to me for only two weeks.

My cheating bitch went back to her damaged toys, who were still whimpering and rolling about on the bed, clutching their limbs. By this time, fully in control of my emotions, I decided to move to my parents. While packing my suitcases I was aware of Nancy calling 911. I left my two week old marriage without any goodbyes and slammed the door. I heard the ambulance sirens as I put my bags in my car

I went back to work and gave Carl the documents I fetched from home and then told him about this most recent incident of catching my new wife with two lovers and breaking their bones. Not a fair weather friend, Carl took my side immediately. He assured me of his support, despite the risk of possible police involvement. God, how good it felt to have at least one loyal friend!

I took my bags to my parents’ and told them everything; I stayed there, but as I expected, the police found me two days later. I was informed the two guys had reported the incident to the police and the DA had begun criminal proceedings.

I didn’t deny anything. It took some time to explain to the two investigators how it all happened, and why I went mad. When they got all the information they wanted, they went away. Some days later I was summoned to court where the judge offered me release on bail until the trial. The bail was $10,000.00 but Carl gave me this without a question.

I had already split the joint accounts I had held with Nancy, and contacted my previous divorce lawyer to begin the process; I was getting quite proficient at this.

As I admitted everything, the Police did not have to do a lengthy investigation, so the criminal trial took place three weeks after I caught my cheating wife with her lovers. Carl’s dad had found a good criminal lawyer who did his best to decrease my punishment but he told me that the chances of avoiding prison were rather slim.

He based my defense on the circumstances of my first divorce, and of course, emphasized my psychological condition as a newly re-wed husband. He detailed how much I was longing to forget my disappointment with marriage and to regain my trust in faithfulness, when my dream of a normal life was suddenly crushed to dust for the second time. It was shocking to hear him describing my state of mind on seeing the sanctity of a family ripped apart again. He struggled hard to make the jury see the effects of the “Nancy-case” on my family-centered soul!

The fact that I finally avoided jail was not dependent upon him as the jury voted me “sinner”. The judgment was quite a surprise for everybody; I was to three years in prison but the judge suspended it for five years. I had to pay $10,000.00 to each of the two lover boys.

Carl attended the trial, which made me feel a bit better during the whole procedure and he offered to lend me the $20,000.00 for the settlement! My cheating bitch came to the trial too, and seemed very disappointed…

In justification of the verdict and sentence, the judge stated I had not had any previous violent, criminal record before, and I had always been a peaceful member of society. It was noted I had stayed calm during my prior divorce and I had discovered my new wife’s cheating only two weeks after the wedding. My two daughters were taken into account in the verdict, to the effect that I had to work to pay child support. The judge told me if I had not had children from my first marriage I would have gone to prison for sure. My lawyer said I was extremely lucky to avoid that.

It was only eight years later that I realized how bloody lucky I really was that day. I happened to bump into the judge at a freeway rest stop. He was with his wife and two young children, while I was with my third wife and our two children. He immediately recognized me, and our families chatted for some time.

It was only in the restroom that we could exchange some ideas in private, and he left me dumbstruck by his words, “You’ve got no idea how lucky you were! Just a day before your sentence I got evidence that my first wife cheated on me. If we had met a week before or a week after it turned out, you wouldn’t have gotten a suspended punishment.”

Unaware of this at the time of the trial I regarded my luck as a mere “simple” one…

With the criminal case done with, I had yet to dispose of my second wife. Fortunately, her lawyer and mine found the best solution: as the cheating and the trial were too close to the wedding, we could simply annul the marriage. To my relief, just three weeks after my verdict our marriage was terminated. I was again a free, divorced man.

To add another piece to the jigsaw puzzle, I must mention that three years after my second divorce I ran into Nancy’s parents I finally got confirmation she had in fact been a sex addict and in therapy before I met her. In fact, she had just finished a course of therapy sessions and it was not her first one! Her parents told me how happy they had been when Nancy found me – they had thought she would eventually become a good wife and get over her shameful habit. Now my second ex-wife was back to her sex addict life again and in a new round of therapy once more. I wished her luck in finding a cure for her affliction and success in life, because I had finally found mine.

After the criminal trial my first wife showed her worst face and got total revenge on me. She went to court and got a restraining order against me until Zoë turned fourteen, basing her request on the allegation that I was a violent man, proved by the fact that I was under suspended sentence. I couldn’t see my daughters any more. If I tried, I could have gone to prison for three years…

It seems to me that the judges’ subjective opinion on a case does indeed influence their decision, despite the fact that they should be unbiased. Their personal impressions can make them moderate a sentence, which I experienced at my criminal trial. However, individual ideas could also aggravate a judgment. After the chance encounter with my judge, I am convinced that the judge awarding my strict restraining order wanted to offset my moderate suspended criminal punishment. So much for unprejudiced judgments!

Like I said, I thought about myself as an almost total loser. Almost, because I avoided prison and I found such a true friend in Carl. After my ordeal Carl saw to it that I got a little money through his wife. Doris got a high salary for her telecommuting home-based work, and with this financial trick connected to her business I was able to pay my $20,000.00 debt back to back to Carl. My father gave me his 25% share of our firm, so I was now a 50% shareholder in the company.

Though I got back to normal financially, my social life was completely nonexistent. I didn’t trust women and avoided them all. I worked hard for the company, and work actually became my hobby, my only standard free-time activity. I worked day and night, weekends and on public holidays, and the company prospered.

I had lived my lonely life in my apartment almost for half a year, when Carl invited me to a birthday party at his parents’ house. His youngest sister turned twenty-one and the family organized a little fete for her. I knew she was an amputee, but we had not met before. Some years before I had helped Carl find materials and equipment to upgrade the house for his sister’s special needs. Carl was now unusually unclear and mysterious about the birthday party. He just said I was to arrive at ten AM. before the big lunch on Saturday. I didn’t understand Carl at all, but obeyed and arrived at his parents’ house as directed.

Chapter 3
Could two almost losers be a lucky couple?

Carl and his wife, Doris, had told me a lot about John, the now 50% partner in Carl’s firm. His first wife cheated on him and he divorced her. His second marriage was unsuccessful, too and he broke some limbs on his wife’s lovers when he caught them together just two weeks after the wedding. He got three years in prison suspended for five years. His first wife got a restraining order against John so he couldn’t see his two daughters at all. I was very sorry for him, especially for his being torn away from his children. Carl and my sister-in-law did not say much about me to John. He knew I lived at my parents’ and that due to an accident I was an amputee. It was nice of him to help my brother find the materials when my family transformed the house for my comfort and safety.

On Wednesday my brother called to tell me that John was also invited to my party.

“He’ll be afraid of me! Why did you have to invite him?” I shrieked to Carl on the phone.

“…Okay…I know you told him I’m an amputee, but he hasn’t even seen me before!”

“Listen, darling…”

“It’s such an awkward situation…honestly…how could you do this to me?”
“Stop it, Sis. Don’t panic! I invited him for ten o’clock in the morning, when you would be cooking. You’ll be gliding and fluttering around pans and spices like an acrobatic fairy, like you always do, clouded by an irresistible smell of the yummiest…”

I started giggling at once.

My brother always knew how to tame me, “You bragged about me?”

“That’s all it is about, yeah,” he laughed heartily, and then his tone got more serious, “I am really proud of you, Wendy!”

I gave up about John being there “All right, I’ll be in the kitchen and be the local spectacle then.”

We laughed a lot together.

I was a little anxious, but I put on the sexiest kitchen dress to show what was left of my femininity. John told me later that my dress was the best choice to attract him to me. Generally, only my family members had been there on my birthdays since the accident, so the presence of a stranger and a male guest excited me a little.

My sister’s husband, Garry, was a surgeon and they had two daughters; Carl and Doris had two sons and all four were under school age. They were all coming to the party, so the house would be fully packed, I thought.

I carefully planned my birthday lunch menu. It consisted of Hungarian Goulash soup, pancakes with minced meat and sauce ala Hortobágy, chicken paprika, and Hungarian style strudels with various fillings for dessert. My mother would be my assistant, but I was the chef. We planned to drink mineral water, beer, champagne and a Hungarian dessert wine called 6 puttony Tokaji Aszú. We went to the nearest supermarket with my Mom and bought everything for the feast. I couldn’t handle a large grocery order alone, so her help shopping was important. When shopping on my own, I usually used a backpack, which I simply put in the car when I was finished. It was perfectly enough for buying a few items, but definitely not for a feast.

Saturday morning we began work in the kitchen. My Mom helped me with the preparations but then it was me alone who did all the cooking. She told me several times that I was a better chef than her.

It was not yet ten o’clock when the first guests, that is, my brother’s family arrived. They came to the kitchen to greet me. My adorable young nephews, Brian and Mike, swarmed the place and jumped around me a great deal before storming into the living room. I was very fond of them.

“You’re very sexy today,” my brother complemented me.

“I’d like to limit John’s aversion to an amputee.”

Carl smiled at me, “You’ll go even farther.”

I waved my hand and I turned back to the counter to peel the rest of the potatoes.

When John pushed the buzzer and was led into the kitchen by Carl I was still working with the dishes, leaning against the frame for support. I turned to the new guest and when we looked at each other. I still think we will never forget that moment. At first he was clearly astonished by the sight of the one legged chef, but then politely introduced himself. Carl was a real devil to leave us alone and I saw John was confused to be suddenly confronted with a beautiful amputee.

I smiled at him to ease the tension, “I bet you haven’t been in a house like this, have you? My sister says it is a mixture of subway carriage and a strip bar.”

While we were laughing at the resemblance, I went to the sink in the opposite corner of the kitchen to wash the carrots. In doing so, I let John see my frame-climbing skills. He told me later that he was totally amazed by me as I was using the handrails and poles like a gibbon uses the branches of the trees.

When I came back to chop the vegetables, he gathered himself and asked, “Could I help you with something?”

“Very kinds of you, thanks, but you don’t know where the things are. If I need help I ask my Mom or Dad on the phone. That’s quicker, you see,” I responded politely.

He exclaimed sincerely, “You’re fantastically skillful! I‘ve never seen a woman like you!”

I turned to him and I could tell he truly liked me. He was embarrassed some minutes before, but now it was me who felt that way.

“I had a year to learn how to move about in this subway carriage,” I smirked.

He suddenly remembered it was my birthday he had come to celebrate.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot to say happy birthday,” he flushed. “So…Happy Birthday, Wonderful Wendy!” he stressed each word especially the last two, with a wide grin on his face.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him again.

“Could I stay here in the kitchen with you?”

“I don’t mind…” I shrugged mockingly, “Provided you behave yourself.” Then I added, “I like your company, in point of fact.”

The chance for a good mate flashed before my mind’s eye at that moment.

“Hey, Wendy girl,” I thought, “Here’s the first man who admires you. Don’t spoil this opportunity! John’s a nice man and he appreciates both your skills and your body. Don’t miss the chance, it’s now or never!”

Though ashamed of my disability, I was nevertheless very much aware of my feminine roundness at the right places of my body, and my leg was neat and slender, yet finely muscular.

We talked about the Hungarian dishes I cooked and about other trivialities. It seemed he would have remained with me in the kitchen for hours if my brother had not come for him. My sister’s family and my grandparents arrived. Carl took the mesmerized John to the new guests, and then ran back to me for a second.

“You like him?” he whispered intimately into my ear.

“I’ll conquer him!” I replied on impulse, without thinking over the phrase I just let slip.

My devil seedling brother laughed, “So now you know why I invited him for ten o’clock.”

I remained alone with the bowls again and continued my diligent labor with the strudel fillings, smiling to myself. I felt my heart pounding the excitement and happiness over a nice man’s admiration of me.

My grandparents and my sister with her family came to greet me. My nieces, Kate and Ann kissed me and found it impossibly funny that with my hands and apron covered in flour I couldn’t really hug them but imitated a hug from behind the bars, flour snowing from my body all over the floor.

When everyone went to the living room John reappeared. I saw my chance of conquest.

“Do I disturb you if I stay here in the kitchen?” he asked.

I smiled at him with my happiest smile, “Not at all. I’m glad of the company and I like talking.”

He looked at the bowls and ingredients on the counter very curiously, “What exactly are you doing now?”

“I’m mixing stuffings for the Hungarian strudels. It’s a layered pastry, with thin layers of dough enclosing the most delicious fillings you can imagine…that’s the most important part, you know, the stuffing in it. The paper thin dough with the filling on top is rolled up carefully and baked in the oven…you’ll see… Strudel pastry dough is very elastic and it has to be stretched by hand very thinly, that’s the secret.” I explained enthusiastically.

“Wow, mmm! Sounds yummy. You’re a real expert!” he stared at me in awe, “And what’s in those bowls?”

“I’m mixing ground poppy seeds and mashed pumpkin in this one. Then I’m going to mix ground poppy seeds with sour cherry in that one, that’s another filling, you see. I’ve already made the apple and cinnamon stuffing, it’s over there, and the cottage cheese is mixed with raisins in the fourth one…have a look. All together four different sorts of strudels,” my hands were moving fast while I spoke, “I also put sugar into each… You see I’m putting a portion of filling onto this piece of dough I’ve stretched, like this…roll it up…some flour…and done.”

“Amazing! And those are already ready to bake, aren’t they?” he pointed to the baking pan next to the oven.

“Yes, they are. Waiting for the oven to heat up.”

“Can I help you?” he was enthusiastic.

“Thank you John, I can manage almost everything alone.”

I placed another four strudels on an empty baking pan. There were several fully packed pans by now. I leaned against a rod with my shoulder, opened the oven with one hand, and quickly threw the pans into it with the other, one after the other. Years later I learned my John saw this like a circus stunt by an acrobatic juggler.

He almost applauded, “You’re fantastic!”

I flushed, “I’m not. But thank you, anyway. It’s easy for me to manage the kitchen work, as I do it every day, you know,” I replied modestly.

At last I began to fry the pancakes, deliberately turning and moving about a lot more in my sexy dress than was necessary. I could feel his eyes pinned on the round parts of my body, and I was happy to show them to him.

It was clearly an all-family conspiracy that nobody disturbed us in the kitchen. They knew it was not only my festive lunch I was preparing, but also my soon to be husband. My pussy was wet and I flushed several times, my nipples were hard and they almost pierced my blouse.

When I was done with the dishes he joined the others in the dining room, while I changed my dress. We sat next to each other at the corner of the table so that we could talk. My mom and my sister brought in the food, as I couldn’t carry so many trays quickly enough.

John told me all dishes were delicious and added that I was a Kitchen Fairy. He admitted years later had he arrived at twelve o’clock, he would just have been a kind guest and would never have thought of me as a wife candidate. My kitchen work persuaded him that I could be a good wife. John and I are very grateful to Carl for inviting John for ten o’clock.

After lunch my parents brought in a birthday cake with twenty-one candles. I blew out the candles and everybody congratulated me, wished me many happy returns of the day. We drank the champagne and we tested the 6 puttonyos Tokaji Aszú with the cake

During the general chatting session my family left me alone with John again so we could speak in private.

I knew I must not mention his second marriage but wanted to express my sympathy for his separation from his kids.

“Carl told me about the unfair restrictions and I’m very sorry you can’t be with your daughters.” I put my hand on his arm for a second, “It must be hard for you and for the girls too. But love will survive time and distance…”

His eyes turned sad and thankful at the same time. I retrieved my hand from his arm before he could touch it.

“Thanks for your comforting words. I haven’t seen them for a half year. My life is a half one without my kids.”

I still do not know how I got the courage to tell him my wish to have my own children that afternoon, but it just came so naturally, “I live with one leg and my biggest dream is to be a Mom to my own kids one day. Who knows if it comes true? “

During our married years John has told me several times that these two sentences decided our common future. He had thought I would be a good wife with my kitchen skills before this conversation, but on hearing my wish he got the idea he could be a daddy again with me as a good mom to our kids.

He said he saw my nipples about to pierce my dress and found me so erotic he could hardly stop himself fantasizing over me. My single leg did not disturb him anymore. I recognized his intention and I directed my gaze on a fictitious speck on the ceiling so that he could stare at my bodily attributes undisturbed. He almost devoured me with his eyes. I turned my gaze back on his face and sent my sweetest smile to him. His passion and appreciation was palpable and I flushed from head to toe. Oh well, strictly speaking, to the toe of my leg. I think we both fell in love at that moment. I knew I had conquered him. We took each other’s hands.

“I know you love me and I love you too!” I broke the ice.

“You know very well then…”

I enveloped him in my discreet pheromone cloud.

The family conspiracy worked fine. Sitting on the couch with John I shot a quick glimpse at my brother conversing with Mum, glass in hand. He had clearly observed my conquest for he winked at me, suppressed a smile, and turned back to Mum.

John still held my hand, “I’d like to have another set of children,” he declared suddenly, “Umm, with you, I mean. Two would be fine by me, too.”

It sounded hilariously awkward as he said it, yet these were the words I so much longed to hear all my life,
“Sure. Take them for granted. ‘Gonna be no sweat for the babies to wriggle out, not having to force open two legs, see, with mommy having only one…” I replied with a wide grin, “That’s the funniest and the most serious thing I ever heard.”

We laughed out loud and he squeezed my hand in an encouraging way.

We told our kids later that we had actually got married because we had wanted them so much. They are very happy to know this.

Sitting on the edge of the couch together, just four hours after we had been introduced, John began to plan our common future, “With the help of the family, our common firm, some friends, and my father’s colleagues, we could build a house like this one. Especially your parents’ kitchen and some rooms here will serve as a model. Could you imagine a house, which is full of handrails, poles and frames from the basement to the attic?”

I was pleased to reply, “Absolutely! And I’d do striptease for my future husband on a pole in our house when the kids can’t watch us.”

We both burst out laughing again as we imagined the scene.

“Wendy, you’ve a fantastic sense of humor. You’re a stunning beautiful woman and your leg doesn’t bother me at all. It’s a gorgeous one, if you ask me… I’m really looking forward to that dance you’ve just promised.”

“Are you? Then you should hurry building the house you’ve just promised,” I pointed out. We were practically shaking and roaring with laughter by now, and every head in the room turned toward us.

When John went to the restroom, my sister Jessica ran up to me to congratulate on my conquest, “See? I told you! I said your spouse candidate would come from another group, not the guys you were trying to catch in the mall. Remember?”

“You were right,” I admitted, “Now I know what you meant. He’d have to be trodden on by life, hopeless, and waiting for the sun to shine on him, like me. But not necessarily handicapped. Is that it?”

My sister smiled at me, “Exactly.”

I suddenly felt two warm hands cover my eyes from behind. They were my brother’s. Having obviously overheard my conversation with Jessica, he came to congratulate me and to show off, too.

“Talk about wisdom, whose idea was it to invite John for ten o’clock?” he swaggered in a playful voice.

“Thank you Carl, you were great!” I turned and hugged him hard.

When everybody went to the garden I remained alone with John.

“Before I’ll ask you to be my wife, I’ve got an even more important question to clear,” he said.

I beamed at him expectantly, “I’m all ears.”

“Wendy, I think the most important thing is your security. First, we are to build a super “subway carriage” house, the sole owner of which will be you, of course. I know your father has enough money. Your brother and I would use our company’s potentials to decrease the expenses and my father’s friends and colleagues could work free of charge on Saturdays and Sundays too. When the house is ready and it’s your property, we’ll get married.” he poured these words on me rather rapidly, all in one breath, but now he drew some air into his lungs for the proposal he was saving for the end of his presentation. “Well now, I think it’s time to ask you, isn’t it?” he asked, prolonging the inevitable, “Wendy, would you like to be my wife with these conditions?”

I nearly burst into tears with joy that such a nice and caring man proposed to me, and I wanted to shout yes, yes and yes, but I forced myself to keep cool and took a humorous tone, “Definitely. I mean it was definitely high time you proposed to me and made a fixed schedule for our future life, given the fact that we have known each other for more than four hours now…” But I couldn’t control myself any longer as the tears of happiness already started to distort my face, so I looked into his eyes and whispered as audibly as the lump in my throat let me, “Yes John, my love, I will marry you.”

Wanting to kiss me then he gently pulled me closer by the waist, but I stopped him.

“Wait! I’ve a condition too,” I said, suddenly changing back into a mock-serious style.

He was surprised, “Oh, you do…?”

From the look of astonishment on his face it was clear he did not realize I was half-joking again, knowing for sure he would gladly accept my ‘condition’.

I said it quickly, “Yes. I’ll marry you on condition that we begin the kid production right after the wedding, very quickly.”

We both howled with laughter and when we calmed down John knelt beside me and we kissed passionately for long, long minutes.

“Now with everything planned ahead of time,” I began, still feeling his taste on my lips, “how about meeting at Tully’s Coffee in the mall tomorrow? Umm, I could also see your bachelor flat after that. I’d like to show you that I can move in the world really well.”

John looked at me with pleasure, “All right, but at first I should get a little work done in my apartment. Would two o’clock be okay for you?”

“Excellent,” I stroked his face, “Just so you know… we’ll begin the kid production only after wedding because I’m on pill.”

“But we can start practicing beforehand, right? He asked, while his hands slipped around my waist again.

I agreed, “Practice makes perfect, as the saying has it.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly and we kissed passionately again.

We joined my family in the garden. While I was walking with my crutches across the room and through the door, I felt John’s eyes on me. He was checking on my ability to move about. Funny, I was not at all embarrassed to show him. When I stopped and stood still beside the flowerbeds, he came next to me, embraced me with his right hand, and we announced our engagement. I was overjoyed standing there in the embrace of my love, while everybody applauded and my brother winked at us.

We told everybody that we both had conditions, of which John’s may not be easy to fulfill without outside help, so my close family sat down to discuss the matter. My Dad liked John’s idea about the house construction and that the house would be mine before our wedding. My brother said their company could decrease the expenses as much as possible, while my grandpa, who was a successful realtor, expressed his intention of supporting the project with a little money too. It turned out that John’s promise of free work provided by his father’s colleagues and friends at the weekends was indeed reasonable, as they all had working debts to be redeemed.

When the decision was made, John phoned to his dad to ask him for an urgent meeting, and then said goodbye to us. I saw him out. We exchanged some romantic kisses at the gate, then some more.

“See you tomorrow, love. At Tully’s in the “Maple Wood” mall, at two pm., don’t forget it, please,” I said.

“How could I? See you there, my beautiful Kitchen Fairy.”

We finally let go of each other’s hands and he left to see his dad. I closed the door and began to weep quietly. A good husband and kids, kids, kids…

Chapter 4
First the house, second the wedding and naturally kids

If Wendy had been an ordinary two-legged woman, her chance to be my wife would have been zero. I completely lacked trust in all women, but Wendy was outside this ordinary group because of her amputation. That’s why she often tells me how glad she is of being handicapped, as that was her key to gaining a good husband and two smart, beautiful and healthy kids. Naturally, she tells this to me as if it was a joke, but her humorous comment has some truth to it at the core. We laugh when she starts to list how many high school friends of hers are already divorced or do not have any children, whereas we are a happy family.

Nobody had thought we would become engaged only five hours after we were introduced. Even Wendy’s brother, my best friend had not expected us to move so fast that day, despite the fact it was his own plan to throw us together by inviting me for ten AM. This trick was one of the crucial conditions that brought us together. Besides that Wendy’s kitchen fairy magic and her desperate wish for children established our fate that Saturday. Yes, the fact I couldn’t be with my daughters, because my scurvy ex-wife blocked my kids from me factored into it too. I looked at Wendy, this twenty-one year old girl, stunning beautiful, full of humor and life, and her dream of two kids and a good husband. The idea of children with this gorgeous young Kitchen Fairy was immediately planted in my mind. Her one leg did not disturb me, oh no, not at all. As a matter of fact it just made her more appealing. It seemed that Wendy, exactly because of her being handicapped (which characteristic sprouted her humor and strong-willed determination to have kids against all odds) was made especially for me. For me, yes, me…having been robbed of the chance to bring up my children and having developed an acute distrust in women due to my failed attempts to live a peaceful family life with a faithful wife. We were destined to create our common happiness.

From Wendy’s birthday party I went to my parents and told them about my engagement with Wendy. They were embarrassed, but accepted my decision. Just as I hoped, my Dad also agreed to help me carry out my “subway carriage” interior house plan and assured me of the weekend assistance of his colleagues and friends.

Out of sheer practicality (I was an architect after all) I went to the mall we were to meet at the next day, and bought an engagement ring; if it wasn’t right, we could exchange it on site. Then I went home and did a big cleaning.

The following day I arrived at the coffee shop in the “Maple Wood” mall at two. Wendy had arrived earlier and was standing at the bar with her crutches. She was charming, and she let me hug her. When we sat down, I gave her the ring. She was happy about it and it fitted on her finger perfectly. The whole staff of the coffee shop came out to congratulate us. Wendy had obviously chatted with them before I arrived, and she must have aired the news that she had a fiancé. I realized that Wendy was a frequenter here and everybody liked her a lot.

Ring, coffee, and cheers finished, we went to the parking lot and I explained to Wendy where my apartment was. She followed me in her wagon all the way, steering with ease and confidence.

I was glad I had cleaned the flat the previous day, as she immediately remarked how tidy it was on entering. She took off her light spring coat and looked fresh, clean and beautiful in a long skirt and beige blouse. We sat on the bed and began the afternoon with a passionate kiss. She reminded me she was on the pill and we would start the baby production in our house, yet to be built.

I began to stroke her back first and I put my left hand on her leg. She stopped kissing me, “John, please don’t be afraid of my leg!”

I patted her knee, “Your leg is beautiful.”

“I know you like my leg, but you’re afraid of my stump, I’m sure.”

She drove my hand under her blouse and I felt her warm and smooth skin vibrating at the touch of my fingertips. “I’d like to take off my blouse and my bra,” she said, suppressing a mischievous smile. “So that you can get used to my upper body before I show you the rest…”

I helped her take off her blouse and she took off her bra herself. Her breasts were wonderful, her nipples hard. I petted her breasts and began to kiss them. I sucked on her hard nipples. She was getting quite aroused and moaned. “I like it,” into my ear.

I wanted to take off her skirt and panties to give her some more intimate pleasure, but I was in trouble at this point. A woman with two legs just stands and is out of her panties in a second…but Wendy might fall over without her crutches, I thought, and I couldn’t get her into such an embarrassing situation. I didn’t want to rip off her clothes either, so I hesitated. She understood it all, as if she had read my mind.

“I’ll help you take these off, don’t worry,” she giggled, and showed me how to hold and undress her the easiest…

Now she was entirely nude. “See? There’s nothing to be repulsed by,” she said, “the plastic surgeons worked fine and smooth, without scars.”

Her stump was indeed not repellent at all, and I felt comfortable with her body. Her pussy was not too hairy and I liked the look of it. I could hardly wait to savor the touch, the scent, and the taste of it too. She smiled, encouraging me to take pleasure in her body.

I knelt down before her to enjoy her pussy. She spread her thighs and I was in front of her beautiful pussy. I pulled apart her labia major and started kissing her labia minor. She moaned as I fingered around her very sensitive vaginal opening, soft and moist.

“Ah, so good,” she hissed.

I wanted to learn how to give her more enjoyment, “Want a gentle experiment?”

Her pussy was all wet by now. I tried to excite her clit with my finger at first, and she replied with passionate moans. When I replaced my finger with my tongue Wendy’s pleasure increased. This went on for a couple of minutes. Then I used my fingers for her vaginal opening and my tongue for her clit to intensify her excitement and she very quickly had an intense orgasm.

After her orgasm she wanted to requite my efforts.

“The first orgasm was mine, so it’s your turn. You must enjoy my skill now…orally…to repay yours,” she giggled.

We lay down on the couch, right beside each other on our sides, facing each other’s genitals. I put my head on her thigh and she lifted her stump up so that I could work on her pussy as well. Meanwhile, she started to work on my cock with her hands and mouth. Sometimes she moaned from her pleasure.

Suddenly she said, “Tell me before you cum, will you? I want your sperm in my pussy instead.”

The thought got both of us close to orgasm, but I managed to control myself for her sake. And in a moment she had to stop to enjoy another ecstasy of hers, panting and twitching.

When her strained body relaxed and her mouth could feel my penis close to explosion, she whispered greedily, “John, my pussy wants you in it.”

We shifted into the good old missionary position. Her pussy was drenched, slippery yet tight when my throbbing cock entered it.

I felt my own heart pounding in my ears through Wendy’s demanding voice, “Fuck me, John, I’m yours…”

When I reached my orgasm it triggered hers too, and we both were on the peak at the same time. We hugged each other and I ejaculated my sperm into her beautiful tight pussy.

Later we separated and were lying next to each other. In her post orgasm bliss her funny self broke cover again, to inform me of quite an important thing in an amusing way, as always.

“I, the undersigned Wendy Adair, as your one leg fiancée, hereby declare to be able to have sex with you in other positions as well.” she spoke in a deep and sober voice, slowly, as if taking an oath.

“All right then, we’ll try them all,” I replied chuckling.

“Okay, I can’t embrace you with my legs but I’ll try the rest of the positions with you, and will keep trying, from now on, until the end of times,” she said.

We laughed a lot.

Unable to talk about anything else, we began to kiss while detailing the possible ways, and soon we were making love again. This time, after some mutual oral we made love doggy style, with her single leg kneeling on the floor and her upper body bending over to lie on the bed. Then we changed position and she sat on my cock, but she could not move well in cowgirl position, her missing leg kept her from that, so she tried using her pussy muscles to give me pleasure. We closed this sex session in the old missionary again and were both very satisfied after our orgasms.

She explained her home circumstances, when we went to our cars to go to her family, “My parents know what we’re doing now. They are walking on clouds for me, they are so glad to see my happiness. My Mom wished good luck for us when I left home, and it’s obvious what she meant.”

“Does it disturb you if I call you my Kitchen Fairy?” I asked Wendy before getting into our cars.

“No, of course not,” she said smiling, “I’m happy to be called that, you know. It’ll always remind me of how well I cooked you in our kitchen for my birthday lunch. You were cooked well, so now you taste just fine.”

Wendy’s family was entirely happy and I had to stay for dinner. Since catching my cheating second wife this was the first time I had felt the sun shining on me at long last.

I discussed my timetable with Wendy, because I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. When I had enough time we would meet at her favorite coffee shop in the mall for a romantic chat before we went to my apartment. When we were short of time, she came directly to my flat after my mobile call. On these occasions I waited for her in the parking lot and escorted her to her car when she left in the evening.

We made love, and not just raw sex. Some Saturdays and Sundays she cooked lunch or dinner for the whole family and I was glad to spend the day with them. I liked to arrive at nine o’clock and learn how to assist my love in the kitchen. There were not many of these weekends, because the construction of our special house took most of my Saturdays and Sundays away. But it was worth doing so and we all knew that.

Wendy’s grandfather, Fred, was a realtor and had started to assist our firm on a regular basis. Many times he provided us with good business opportunities so that we could maximize our construction capacities at a profit. Now he found an empty lot near Wendy’s parents and bought it on the spot. That was to be the place for Wendy’s new home.

Having the lot for sure, we held a family meeting to plan the design and the construction schedule. The participants, apart from Wendy, and me were of course her dad, her granddad, her brother, and my dad. It was Carl and I who set the basic design, and the house was great, in all meanings of the word. It was a three-storey building; basement, ground floor and a first floor.

The ground floor had a kitchen, a bathroom with toilet, shower bath and tub, but also a separate toilet with washbasin, a dining room, a living room, a study, a bedroom, a nursery room later to be turned into the second kid’s room and the first kid’s room. The kitchen was a replica of the one already functioning so perfectly at Wendy’s parents’, so my Kitchen Fairy could use it at once, without having to get accustomed to a new environment. The garage passageway was large enough to house the washing machine, and the garage itself was planned for three cars.

The first floor contained three guestrooms and a bathroom. There were less poles and handrails up here than on the ground floor. There was an attic under the main roof, which could later be used for storage if needed. The garden was measured and designed to lend space for a future tennis court and a swimming pool to be built when the children are older. We thought of the kids growing up.

In the basement we planned to put in fitness machines and special training poles for Wendy. A workshop was also to be set up for wood-, metal- and other works, and a little bathroom was to be fitted beside it. The central heating unit would be placed down here too. Similarly to the ground floor, our basement was full of poles and handrails, but we also built a little, three persons elevator in the house, making it possible for Wendy to avoid the stairs. We designed special rolling chairs with crutch cases and brakes for her, and purchased a low-built ironing table so that she could do the ironing easier.

Wendy was our main reviewer and quality controller during the construction. My Dad’s colleagues and friends were enthusiastic about helping us. It was great that people whom we had never met provided support and came to assist us, just because they wanted to help a handicapped woman have an average life.

Everything went fine and quick. Our company’s machines excavated the basements during the week, and my Dad’s fellows set the forms on Saturday and Sunday. The next week we sent the concrete pump and mixer trucks to the site, and poured the concrete. The house was put up at this pace in quite a short time, with our company doing the machine work and purchasing the raw materials on weekdays, whiles my Dad’s fellows did the fine jobs at the weekends.

Wendy, Carl, my Dad and I checked and re-checked everything several times, but many good ideas came from our colleagues and Dad’s fellows as well. For example we put more non-flammable elastic plastic protectors on such places where the kids could hit themselves. Except for the two main doors (opening to the street and the garden) and the inner garage door, every doorway was without a threshold. Several doors were, in fact, sliding ones.

Three months later, when the house was basically ready, the women in the family started putting the finishing touches to it. Wendy, her mom, Sarolta, her grandma, Bernadette and my mom busied themselves fitting everything. They equipped the house with the conveniences and our latest inventions, which were to unburden Wendy of the daily chores and ease housework or child rearing in the coming years.

Two weeks after everything was fitted Wendy stood in the living room, supported by two crutches, in the circle of our family members.

She was beaming, “John, I got the deed. This fantastic house is mine! DESPITE THE FACT THAT I’M A HANDICAPPED, ONE-LEGGED WOMAN, YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO GET AWAY FROM MY GRATITUDE. I’ll run after you for a lifetime. Will you try to raise two kids with me here?”

I hugged her, “Wendy dear, I’ve promised that, so my answer is YES, YES and YES!”

We kissed passionately until both our families began coughing. We came up for air and everybody started to plan our wedding. At the end of the planning session Wendy turned to me alone. “This house is mine now, but it’s going to be ours from our wedding day,” she declared categorically.

We kissed again.

The wedding came quickly. Wendy came with crutches in a modest wedding dress and her dad brought her down the aisle to me. The flower girls were her nieces, Jessica’s daughters. Wendy stood in front of the minister and she was stunning beautiful. We said, “Yes” and she got a nice wedding ring. The best man was a very happy Carl, and the maid of honor her only friend from high school Jane. Her maternal grandparents came straight from Hungary. My parents, my sisters’ families, Jessica’s family and other relatives, as well as my few friends attended the reception too. Also there were some employees of our firm and many colleagues of my father with their families, who had assisted us in building our unique house.

It was quite funny at the reception that Wendy had to comfort her friend Jane, uh, strange situation that was, really. When Wendy mentioned that we would start baby production on that very day, Jane became sad and started weeping. It turned out that she had broken up with her long time college boyfriend and was now alone…

A catering firm had organized the reception at Wendy’ parents, and it went rather well. Almost everybody danced, but I stayed sitting by my fantastically happy and beautiful wife. We had put two empty chairs next to ours, so new couples kept plopping down beside us and were constantly congratulating us. I don’t drink much, so I just sipped at a glass of champagne all afternoon. When we got to cutting the wedding cake, I had to hold her because she did it without her crutches. Later I drank a glassful from the family’s favorite Hungarian dessert white wine, the famous 6 puttony Tokaji Aszú, and I loved it very much. After that, however, I drank only sparkling mineral water instead of booze. I wanted to give Wendy a sober groom for the night.

We did not honeymoon anywhere; we were in our house. I took one-week holiday and we tried to learn our house and garden. Her Mom and my Mom cooked alternately for us. Wendy and I made love in almost every room, laughing all the time about our combo-subway-carriage-strip-bar house and we were very happy. Wendy did striptease several times for me during our honeymoon and I had not any problem with her stump. We are proud that our first child Mark was created on this special honeymoon. When Wendy knew she was pregnant I couldn’t describe in words how happy she was. Wendy seemed to want to devour me with her pussy.

When she was three months pregnant she was in the “White Oaks” Mall, where we went rarely, but she wanted special maternity dresses and the best maternity shop was there. She came back in a very sad state and I couldn’t comfort her; she even cried a little in our bed, but next day she was the happy Wendy again. She told me why she was so sad after she gave birth to our daughter Becky, our second kid. I let her tell you this in the next chapter. From that you readers will see how much she loves me.

Mark was our first and one and half years later Becky was born, so Wendy’s dream became complete, two healthy babies and a good husband in a nice house. I also found two marvelous new kids to love. I didn’t forget my older daughters, but two new kids began to reduce my pain, to brighten my soul. I am sincere; I was and I AM HAPPY.

Chapter 5
From humiliation to complete happiness

John doesn’t want to tell this, therefore I have to relate these events. All right this is my encounter with this impertinent scurvy bitch Amy. She was my husband’s first wife.

The Malls and the Hypermarkets were invented for me, because I can shop alone or with my husband in these places. I can buy a few things there, using my backpack for transport. If we need to make large or volume purchases however, I go with my husband. I was three months pregnant with our son, when I wanted some maternity clothes for my late pregnancy. But the best maternity shop was not in my favorite Mall “Maple Wood”, so I had to go to “White Oaks” Mall. I got to the shop, found some good dresses for the next few months and put them away in my backpack with the clerk’s help. Then she helped me out to the crowded main traffic area. I was going toward the Mall parking lot on my crutches, when I encountered a trashy impertinent bitch.

She looked into my eyes and said, in a loud sarcastic voice, ” ARE YOU THAT LOSER CRIPPLE, WHO MARRIED MY LOSER EX?”

Everybody in the crowded hall looked at us.

She continued my humiliation, “YOU CRIPPLE AND MY LOSER EX DESERVE EACH OTHER!”

Laughing derisively she left without another word.

I stood on my crutches and about forty shocked people looked at me. I began to cry loudly and stood frozen, not able to move at all and cried and cried until two gentlemen helped me to sit down on a bench.

An older lady, unfamiliar to me came up and asked me kindly, “Little lady! Does your husband love you?”

I told her crying, “Yes, yes… John loves me very much.”

I cried some more.

She next asked, “Do you love your husband?”

“I love him very much and I’m three months pregnant with our first baby.”

She told me, “Dear little lady, you have what’s most important in life. You’ve the love and fondness and you’ll have your baby soon. Please don’t worry about that trashy disgusting woman, who tried to humiliate a handicapped woman.”

Eight or nine people stood around me, trying to comfort me, “Please listen to her. Don’t worry about that worthless bitch!”

Another woman asked me, “What do you want to do now?”

I said sobbing, “I’d like to go to my car.”

An older gentleman and two other women said they wanted to go to the parking lot, so these three people escorted me into the parking lot and waited for me until I got into my car. I drove home crying.

I guessed later, why Amy could recognize me at “White Oaks” Mall. Several photographers photographed our wedding, so lots of jpg files were made. My parents-in-law emailed some jpgs of our wedding to acquaintances, who were still in contact with my husband’s first wife. Having seen our wedding photos she learned I was a handicapped woman with one leg and she could easily recognize me.

I knew it was crucial that I keep this repulsive encounter with Amy private. If I had told my husband of this sickening encounter, he would have rushed to Amy’s house to complain. If he had violated Amy’s restraining order he could have been sent to prison as he was serving a three year suspended sentence.

I was an emotional wreck that evening and my dear husband could not comfort me at all. Next day I was in a happy mood again and I kept my secret until we took the baby Becky home from the hospital. I thought my husband would not rush to Amy’s house after the birth of our second child so he wouldn’t be sent to prison. So I told my husband I needed an important conversation with him.

“John, I need to ask for one important thing from you.”

He responded involuntarily, “My Kitchen Fairy!”

I carried on, “You must swear on the life of our kids you won’t rush out when I tell you this.”

He looked at me, very disturbed, “Wendy, all right I swear on the lives of our kids I won’t run away. But Why?”

I almost began to cry, but I tried to be strong, “Do you remember when I came home from the “White Oaks” Mall and I cried all evening? Do you remember you couldn’t comfort me that evening?”

“I remember and you never told why you cried then.”

I began to cry, because I remembered how Amy humiliated me in front of all those people.

We kept silent a while and I continued my confession, “I met your trashy bitch first ex wife, Amy at “White Oaks” and she humiliated me in front of about forty people. She said we were losers and we deserved each other.”

I cried and saw my dear husband was red from his anger.

So I told him, “I’m not going to let you go to the prison for three years.”

I cried loudly, but my husband started to understand everything.

He said indignantly, “That sassy bitch Amy, she insulted you so that I could violate the restraining order and I was close to imprisonment for three years!”

He looked at me and I saw tears in his eyes. I wept.

He carried on calmly, “Thank you, Wendy you’re very smart. I’m very happy you’re my wife, but that bitch Amy! Wendy, you love me so that you could think properly! Perhaps I’d have gone to Amy to complain about your humiliation then but I won’t go near her now. I don’t want to go prison; our kids and you are first in my heart now and I love all of you very much.”

We embraced and kissed passionately and I told him as we broke apart, “John, I love you…I love you…I love you very much and I don’t want to lose you!”

John moaned, “My fantastic Kitchen Fairy!”

A wife, if her husband is a good man, will not love his earlier wives, but she doesn’t generally hate them. After that encounter I hated Amy as much as my husband did.

I went forward in the time line so I would go back to my encounter with Amy. After getting to my fourth month of pregnancy I couldn’t work in the kitchen, so my Mom came to help with the cooking and housework. My mother-in-law cooked for us too. I couldn’t lean against the frames, because I was huge with our baby boy and I didn’t want to endanger him. My Mom worked a lot and John helped a lot too. We made love as often as I wanted during my pregnancy, but my husband was very careful not to endanger our baby. About a year and a half the whole process started again. I was pregnant with Becky and my husband, my mother in law and my Mom helped with the household and several times Jessica or Doris baby-sat Mark for me. My sisters-in-law, Eve and Beth also pitched in to help me during my two pregnancies.

When I was alone with our two babies at home and they slept soundly, sometimes I cried from sheer happiness, my dream was fulfilled entirely with Becky, Mark and John. When our children woke up naturally I smiled at them at once. Quite a while after I told John about my first secret, my humiliation at Amy’s hands, this happiness weeping became my next secret.

After my two childbirths we lived a normal home life. We didn’t hire a maid as I was able to do all the housework and John had to pay child support to Amy, so there was no extra money for a maid. Later John’s firm began prosper, but I managed the housework. We had a cleaning woman, who came for a day every second week and helped me on the big cleanup occasions. I could even do small cleaning with a small vacuum, broom and other cleaning tools. Sometimes John helped to do the housework. If my Mom, my mother-in-law or our family could not baby-sit for us we looked for help in the neighborhood, there were lots of teenage girls available, looking to earn pocket money.

I browsed on the net for research, and I learned it was important to avoid eating any vitamin “A” or liver and it was also crucial to take lots of folic acid during my pregnancies. I found two other interesting things and I’ll tell the first now. I read about a diagnostic laboratory in our city, which would provide, for a fee, an ornate certificate in the case of positive result DNA test. They provided the official documentation as well, however I wanted to have this extra certificate framed. I didn’t work outside the home at that time and was not able to buy nice presents for John’s birthdays. I though the positive DNA test results of both our children would be a nice birthday present. Later on their eighteenth birthdays, we could give the certificates to our children. I only had sex with John and would never cheat on him so I knew these certificates would be a good birthday gift for my husband.

About a month before my husband’s birthday, one night at dinner I said “John I’ve little money to buy a nice present for you, but I’ve a good idea for a birthday present.”

He looked at me and said, ” Kitchen Fairy, I’m curious tell me about it.”

I continued, “I found an ad from a local diagnostic laboratory and they provide an extra service. In addition to the official certificate they can provide a more ornate certificate as well.”

John’s curious was piqued, “What kind of diagnostic laboratory is this?”

“This interesting laboratory provides paternity DNA tests. I’d like to take samples of our children and you together for a DNA test. I’d pay for the tests and the certificates on my own as a birthday present for you.”

He looked at me in amazement, “I trust you, I know you’re faithful. Why????”

I knew I should have explained better, “Honey, I want this as a special birthday gift for you and we could show these certificates to our kids, when they’re eighteen. We could have the fancy, display certificates framed and hang those on the living room wall.”

John thought a lot and replied, “I get it; you’re proud that I sired our kids and you’re faithful. All right because you want it I’ll take samples of the babies and me to this laboratory.

“Yes John, I’m proud of you Honey.”

John surprised me, “But I’ve a condition.”

I wondered, “What’s this condition?”

He explained, “Kitchen Fairy, think of couples that adopted their kids or the kids originated from a sperm bank. What would these kids say to their parents, if they found such certificates while visiting other families? All DNA-test-negative children don’t originate from cheating.”

I understood John completely and was a little ashamed of myself, “You’re right, I wouldn’t want to humiliate innocents. I’ll keep these certificates private and only show them to our kids.”

From here on, my dear husband tells the story of our life.

Chapter 6
The life in our Galaxy the Milky Way

I took the DNA samples to the diagnostic laboratory and was not surprised when the test results were positive. I brought the official results home a week later and commissioned the farmable certificates. I directed these be sent to my wife. That night I showed the official results to Wendy and she hugged and kissed me passionately. We made love for a long time that night. Wendy paid the for tests and the farmable certificates so her birthday present plan was complete.

When the certificates arrived she gave them to me like a present. She hugged and told me, “This is the nicest birthday present a wife can give to her GOOD husband.”

We kissed each other passionately and she put away the certificates; then we made tender love until sleep claimed us.

We often had big birthday celebrations and Wendy always showed her kitchen magic and my Mom or my mother-in-law baby-sat for us so I could help her in the kitchen. Our relatives and friends were generally at our house but when we went to her parents, Wendy cooked there too as their kitchen was so similar to ours. We went to our other relatives or friends Wendy was a regular guest there, like me. When Wendy’s best friend Jane got married, Wendy was the maid of honor and we had Jane and her husband Herb as our guests at our house several times after. My beautiful Kitchen Fairy always dazzled them with her magic. We have been to their home often and, over time, our friendship has grown. Jane and Herb had two kids of their own, too.

After her pregnancies, it was very important to Wendy not retain any extra weight as she only had one strongly used hip joint. She trained in our basement gym on her poles and other machines and strengthened her stomach muscles with other training methods after the second childbirth. She lost most of the pregnancy weight and her belly became flat again, but she was afraid of her kitchen skills. She wanted to control her weight.

It was very interesting, how we reached our Galaxy The Milky Way. I mentioned earlier I preferred low fat milk to beer. Yes, when the weather was hot I drank some beer, but I always preferred milk for the most part. Wendy was browsing on the net and accidentally discovered Adult Nursing Relationships (ANR). She was researching about breast milk and infant nursing and found a surprising reference about Erotic Breastfeeding on one of these baby-nursing websites. She went on and read more and more, learning a lot about ANR. She was lucky, because she was one of those women who enjoyed breastfeeding their babies. She was euphoric from the breastfeeding. She learned a woman’s body weight could be controlled by ANR easier than only by diet, because one-liter of breast milk contains 700 calories. She produced about a liter and a half so she gave the surplus in a cooled bottle to a neighbor woman who produced less milk for her baby. But this woman had just weaned her baby.

After a year of breastfeeding she planned to slowly wean Becky over the next six months. She convinced me we should try ANR (our Galaxy the Milky Way) with just as cleverly as she conquered me to become her husband. She began to humorously compare my low fat milk preference and Becky’s breastfeeding. She made many references to ANR websites in her PC’s history and bookmarks. She told me she’d already read them many times and didn’t to review them again but they were there for me to explore.

Sometimes I looked at her PC, to see what she read on the net, and so I found the sites in her history. I was curious so I began to read them and we were lucky I liked low fat milk. She watched my browser history and waited for the exact time to persuade me.

We were lucky as ANR will never be everybody’s cup of tea. If a man doesn’t like milk or a woman doesn’t enjoy breastfeeding those people are not likely to explore ANR at all. I read that ANR causes prolonged sexual euphoria in women and that it is very helpful in reducing the incidence of breast cancer. Likewise sex twice a day is good prostate cancer prevention and breast milk strengthens the husband’s immune system. Most importantly, ANR causes deeper intimacy between the spouses and enhances the marriage.

Wendy broke the ice fourteen months after Becky’s birth. We were watching TV in the living room and both babies were soundly asleep. We never closed that door so Wendy could hear the babies.

She began mysteriously, “Honey we have a common secret.”

“What is that my Kitchen Fairy?”

“We’re both reading the ANR sites so we should discuss that. You prefer milk over any other beverage. You drink half a liter at breakfast and another half liter after dinner. I produce more than one-liter of low fat milk per day and it’s healthier than cow milk. I could provide it to you in a body warm state. I hope that won’t bother you? I could control my body weight better with ANR than any diet and it’s very important for me to do that. You’ve read this, haven’t you?”

I had read enough to know she was right and the whole ANR idea did not bother me. In fact the idea of getting the milk directly from her breast was exciting.

“Yes I’ve read about ANR and those facts.”

Wendy carried on, “Honey I think the potential of a healthy life or better sex and deeper intimacy is also very important in ANR. You’re a one-woman man and I’m a one-man woman, so we could enhance our love for each other and you’ll like my milk. I think we should try ANR and see if what we have read is true. What do you think?”

After reading the ANR sites I had no issues and the idea was exciting so I agreed, “Wendy the warm milk isn’t true problem for me and I find the whole ANR idea to be exciting.”

Wendy said smiling, “We need to replace the big fridge with a smaller one because there’ll be less milk in it.”

We both laughed at Wendy’s humor and she asked curiously, “Then can we start?”

“If you want us to try ANR, I say YES.”

Wendy laughed teasingly, “You’re lucky you like drinking milk and mine is tasty, too. You’ll taste my milk soon.”

I laughed with her, ” Kitchen Fairy you cooked me again.”

“Honey I’m going to wean Becky slowly over the next few months so you’ll get more and more of my sweet milk.”

“All right, let’s start ANR then.”

We did and all the promised benefits were there: we were healthy, we had sex twice a day and we were in a more intimate connection than we got married.

When Becky turned two, Wendy took over Doris’s former telecommuting job and Doris took over our firm’s administrative team. Doris trained Wendy and she got her own PC, mobile, land line and fax/copier etc for our home office. I had my own PC at home too but the office became Wendy’s other domain. She became an employee of our firm and was very proud to have entered the work world because now she earned salary. She worked an average of four hours a day and had to come to our offices rarely. I brought and took any documents or she sent by E-mail or fax. When she had to go to our office she asked one of our Moms to baby-sit. She was with our kids all day and could manage her job duties, the housework and child rearing perfectly. Wendy had not been to college, but she learned quickly and first-rate at her job, doing valuable work and we were all satisfied with her. Our family earned more income, so we could live easier. Our firm grew over time from the modest beginnings when Carl and I started together. We were becoming successful.

Wendy had worked at our firm for a year when I got an excited call from her. She told me the State Children Welfare Agency wanted to check us out for a whole day on the following day. Two agents would be in our home from nine AM until eight PM.

Wendy tried to be her humorous self, joking about how someone must have reported us for beating or starving our kids. That time I couldn’t laugh at her humor; I was worried about this situation. Carl and I had a very important appointment, so she had to meet the agents alone. Doris gave Wendy the day off so she could focus on the meeting. Carl and Doris were worried too and sympathetic towards Wendy and me so Carl told me to be home for five o’clock.

From this point my fantastic wife, Wendy takes up the story.

Chapter 7.
Sometimes the last will be the first

John went to work and I remained alone with the kids. Becky was now three and Mark, four and half and both were smart, well behaved and healthy. They were perhaps a little more serious than the other children of the same age. I think they acted as if they were a bit older due in part, I think, to my being an amputee. I was planning to invite them for lunch and dinner. I told John I would captivate them as I had him on my twenty-first birthday. John said with a worried smile that I was the brain in our kid affairs. The two agents, both female, arrived right at nine AM and after introductions and ID checking I let them into our home. The older was Mrs. Heather Banks and the younger was Ms. Kate Fragola. They froze when they saw the unique decor of our singular subway carriage-strip-bar house.

I showed them into our children and I told them they had been misinformed as we didn’t beat and starve our kids.

They both began to laugh and Kate responded smiling, “We’re very sorry Mrs. Logan but there isn’t any problem with your children, your husband or you. We came to support a court decision with an onsite inspection. We’ll tell you and your husband everything at seven PM tonight. That will be the court’s decision what we’re going to tell the judge, because we’ve come to you last. So you’ll know the decision this evening. We don’t want to take away your children, moreover … “

The other agent, Heather interrupted her, “Kate say no more please. We’ll tell them everything at seven PM. Please just everything as if this was a normal day Wendy, we’ll ask some questions from time to time. Please don’t worry because nobody denounced your family.”

I was relieved because it was not a matter of concern with our kids, “Could I invite you for lunch or dinner and coffee?”

Heather scratched her head, but this time Kate was definite, “Heather we’re doing a complete site survey, so we need to taste the cooking as well!”

Heather agreed, “O.K. we’ll taste your cuisine too.”

I told myself, “Now Mrs. Wendy you’re going to cook them as you cooked your husband.”

That day was a day off for me so I could do a big lunch with Hungarian strudels and I cooked a whole dinner. They froze up again at the sight of our kitchen but they admired the whole house. My kids behaved fine and were friendly with the two strangers. They both seemed to like the kids quickly and commented on their apparent maturity. They investigated the entire house, making lots of notes in their notebooks.

They laughed, when I mentioned our house was a mix of subway carriage and strip bar. I began to use my sense of humor and got the two women laughing with me. I began my kitchen work and as I planned I bewitched them there. First I fed our kids and then the agents and I had lunch. They found everything delicious, particularly the Hungarian strudels. I did laundry and other housework and they began to praise me, admiring me openly. They liked the guestrooms too, as they contained fewer handrails and poles.

John came home at five PM and I introduced Heather and Kate to him, explaining they were not there about any issue with our kids. He was relieved. We went on with our normal routine and Heather and Kate commandeered one of our guestrooms at seven PM. About ten minutes later they reappeared smiling at us.

Heather began, ” Mrs. and Mr. Logan, you’re the winner against Mr. Logan’s former father-in-law.”

John and I looked at each other in astonishment. We were totally confused and didn’t have an inkling of what they were telling us.

Kate continued explaining the decision, “We thought Mrs. Logan, as a handicapped woman, would be at a disadvantage in the comparison, but we were wrong. This house helps her perfectly and Mrs. Logan can look after two additional older children.”

Heather interrupted Kate, “Mrs. Logan your cooking is phenomenal and your kitchen is the other wonderful idea here. The guestrooms are suitable and the conditions of the house are very good. We decided and the judge will accept our decision tomorrow, so you have three days to prepare accommodations for Mr. Logan’s older daughters. Mr. Logan you should thank your wife, because her skills persuaded us your house is the best choice, so your older daughters can live here for a while.”

A few tears appeared in John’s eyes and I wept quietly a little, because, according to Amy, I was THE LOSER CRIPPLE and I was bringing my husband’s older daughters back to him. Kate and Heather were quiet a while. John smiled at me with his happiest smile. I just wept.

“Your children have a stepfather.” Kate said

My husband interrupted, “I didn’t know my ex re-married.”

Heather said, “Yes, she married Collin George three months ago.”

Kate told, “In a nutshell, Carol’s mathematics teacher is a man, saw something strange in Carol’s behavior and began asking questions. He found that Carol’s stepfather is pedophile candidate.”

Kate stopped, because everybody looked at John. He was as red as when I described Amy’s humiliation to him. The anger seemed to darken my husband’s face.

Kate continued, “Mr. Bramble went to the school principal straightaway. Zoë attends same school as Carol so Mrs. Walewski asked one of Zoë’s female teachers, Mrs. Lopez, to interrogate Zoë. Zoë said same thing as Carol. Mrs. Walewski reported the girl’s stepfather to the Police immediately. It’s very interesting a male teacher noticed the matter. The Police responded quickly and got a surveillance warrant the same day and alerted the FBI and the State Children Welfare Agency.

Heather interrupted Kate again, “My boss assigned me secretly to be the girls’ child psychologist.”

John’s hands clenched into fists.

Kate said, “I’ve sociology degree, Heather is child psychologist. The FBI helped the local Police wire up your ex-wife’s house with video cameras and audio bugs the next morning. His hard drive was checked too and was found to contain many pedophile files. He is a very active member of an international pedophile video and photo file sharing group. Three days observation gave enough evidence to the court so the Police arrested Collin George and the judge denied bail because the court is afraid of vigilantism from you Mr. Logan. This happened last week.”

I glanced at my husband and I knew the judge was right to deny bail. John would have ripped Amy’s husband into bits.

We were shocked into silence for a while.

Then John fearfully asked, “What harm did my daughters suffer from this animal?”

Heather began in very friendly tone, “The girls were very lucky, because the suspect had not started to abuse them yet. You can thank Mr. Bramble for noticing Carol’s tiny behavioral changes in time. I talked a lot with the girls at school and your ex’s house. Your daughters are very lucky, because the harm is slight and I think they’ll forget everything in a few months.”

John asked, “Was my ex-wife responsible in any way for this?”

Kate explained, “The DA is investigating your ex-wife’s responsibility and the court will decide whether she is accountable. However her punishment may only be the loss of the children custody.”

My husband asked, “Could we get the permanent custody?”

Kate said, “Yes, you could thanks to your fantastic wife but for right now it is only five months temporary custody. If your ex-wife is innocent she’ll get custody back, but you’ll see the girls every second weekend. The court will quash the restraining order.”

We were silent, so Heather told us a few more things, “You have three days free to scold your ex. Now you can name her, but I ask you not to when your daughters will live here. It’s very important the girls forget the whole matter. The entail harm is small as the Police were quick. I’ll talk with the girls every week at school. If they talk about this you have to listen to them, but you can’t carry on a conversation about this. The home change will have a great effect and your wife’s fantastic personality, so full of humor and life will be an enormous assist so we think you’re the best choice for temporary custody.”

We were silent again so Kate began, “You’ll get the child support money for the five months. Soon you’ll get the official court decision about the temporary custody and the court documents will say when you should pick the girls up. We suggest Mrs. Logan should bring the girls away in her car.”

After our farewells, John escorted them to their car. I waited inside on my crutches and wept from sheer happiness for a few minutes. When they drove off, we stayed at our front door and kissed for a long time.

“My fantastic Kitchen Fairy brought back my daughters! You have magical powers! Thank You! Thank you!”

We kissed passionately again and went back to the living room to start calling around to our family. Everybody was glad of our happiness. My parents-in-law were very happy to see their older granddaughters soon.

I thought we would have ordinary ANR sex, but my husband organized a sex fireworks night.

We began with the breastfeeding and I was totally euphoric; then John gave me oral and then put his cock into my vagina briefly for ten minutes and then began the oral again. He alternate like that, ten minutes of penetration, then ten minutes of oral, and so on and so on. At the last cycle he ejaculated into my pussy but during each of my orgasms, he kept saying “thank you, thank you”. I counted my orgasms to ten, but I couldn’t keep track after that.

After over two hours of sex he said, “Thank you for my daughters.”

I stroked my dear’s face and said, “Honey I’d do even more for you! You don’t know how much I love you!”

We slept long and deep after all this sex.

Two days later we got the court decision about the temporary custody. I had to go to Amy’s house to collect the girls at nine AM Saturday. If the court did not find her responsible in the matter she would not see her daughters for five months. If she was responsible she wouldn’t see them until they were over eighteen. My husband folded down the rear seats for more luggage space for he girls but three seats remained in my old Ford Focus wagon. John and I embraced beside the car and he waved when I left. The weather was very good; not windy or chilly and no snow fall. It is rare for the middle of January here.

I was on time, out of my car, standing with my crutches, when the door opened and Amy stood in the doorway. We greeted each other, “Good morning”. The girls poked their heads out and we said “Hi” to each other. Amy came to my wagon and opened the back doors. She brought the girls’ luggage and she cried. I got back into my car quickly, because I didn’t want to humiliate her in front of her daughters. MY NAME IS WENDY LOGAN, I AM NOT AMY!

When Amy was ready she told her daughters, “Good Bye!” and kissed them, crying loudly.

The girls were sad and said, “Good Bye Mom!”

I thought she did not cry from happiness, but I always did. My husband’s daughters got into my car and we left for our house. The girls and their Mother waved to each other.

Carol introduced herself first and then came Zoë, “I’m Carol and we know you’re Wendy, our Dad’s wife.”

“I’m Zoë.”

“Nice to meet you both.”

I drove and the girls were silent a while. Zoë asked first, “Have we got siblings?”

I responded quickly, “Yes, Mark is four years and half and Becky is three years old.”

Carol said, “Mrs. Banks told us about our siblings in the school yesterday. We’re very curious about them.”

They were very embarrassed. I thought they had often heard the LOSER CRIPPLE expression. We remained silent. John and I discussed that we would be reserved and not make big emotional displays. Because we were almost unknown to them and the girls needed time to get used to us, such displays might only disorientate them. I told our kids their older sisters would live with us for five months.

We arrived and I stopped in front of our house and John opened the door.

We got out of the car and the girls went to greet their Dad, “Hi Dad.”

“Hi girls,” said John, smiling.

They all hugged each other.

John told them, “Please, go to the house with Wendy. I need to bring in your baggage and put Wendy’s car in the garage.”

We went into our house and the girls met their younger siblings at the front door. They all said Hi to each other. The older children’s eyes seemed to kindle when they saw their younger siblings. I knew they adored our kids on the spot.

Zoë crouched to Becky straight away and asked her, “What’s your name? How old are you?”

Becky replied quickly, “I’m Becky Logan and I’m three years old.”

Zoë gave two kisses to Becky.

Carol crouched too and she began with two kisses for Mark and asked, “And what’s your name? How old are you?”

“I’m Mark Logan and I’m four years old.”

First Carol introduced herself to our kids, “I’m Carol Logan your older sister and I’m fourteen years old.”

Zoë was next, “I’m Zoë Logan and I’m thirteen years old and I’m your sister too.”

Mark replied, “We’re glad you came to live with us.”

Now Zoë gave four kisses to Mark and Carol kissed Becky. My husband and I smiled at each other, because we knew the girls would get used to our home soon.

They stood up and entered the subway-strip-bar mixture house, as petrified as the two child welfare agents had been four days earlier. I went behind the four children. The poles, frames and handrails gave a system, which assisted me to do the everyday housework. I could put things into the special designed and built furniture. I could do smaller cleaning in the house, but our kitchen was the top of our rooms. We had ten pairs of crutches placed everywhere I might need them. There were double or triple seats everywhere so that I could sit with my husband or my kids together. There were rolling chairs with brakes and crutch cases to assist me every where.

The guestrooms were a little similar to the ordinary rooms in an average house, but there were handrails, frames and poles in them only fewer. We had a little three-person elevator from the basement, through the ground floor to the first floor. We put a manual handle in the elevator for emergencies. Naturally we designed and built stairs for people with two legs. The house was built in order to make it possible that I could do the housework and we could bring up two children in it. The girls stood and admired the house. The lower part of the poles and frames were coated thick with not inflammable elastic plastic to save our kids. John brought the girls’ baggage into the living room and then took my car into the garage. I showed them the kitchen and they admired it again. Except for me, everybody went upstairs and John showed Zoë and Carol their rooms.

From this point my dear happy husband tells the events.

Chapter 8.
From Dad to Daddy

My daughters settled into their own rooms. I hauled their luggage to their rooms and they put away their things in the dressers and closets and the bathroom. I went down to the kitchen to help my wife a little with the meal preparation, but left her alone later in the kitchen. When the girls were ready they went to the kitchen and my Kitchen Fairy cooked them the same way as she did the Child Welfare Agents and me years before. Wendy bewitched my older daughters with her skilled kitchen work. They found the lunch tasty and liked the dinner too later. The younger kids went for their afternoon nap and I talked with my older daughters. They called me Dad.

My daughters loved their siblings, our young kids and they played with them for hours when they got up from their nap. Wendy and I smiled at each other all day and we walked on clouds Sunday they went to the kitchen with Wendy. After lunch my daughters went to learn about their new school. My daughters had learned well in school, I could be proud of them. Later they played with our kids and I talked with my older daughters a lot. They were tired out and went to bed early.

On Monday I took them to school and showed our court certificate to the principal that I would bring my daughters and my wife would take the girls home. I wanted to thank her for what they had done for my daughters. The principal told me they were just doing their jobs but she called Mr. Bramble and Mrs. Lopez. I thanked them for their responsible work and held hands with them all. I told them my wife would come for the girls and that she was an amputee. I went to work, where Doris and Carl said they were glad my daughters were with us. Wendy put the younger kids in her car and went to the school and brought the girls home. They assisted Wendy in a little housework or they played with Becky and Mark. Later the girls did their home work and when I got home I talked with them.

The siblings adored each other, but the greatest surprise was the admiration of my daughters for Wendy. Her fantastic personality drew my girls in. I thought the years that Amy called Wendy a LOSER CRIPPLE gave this boomerang effect. Wendy began to use the Mark Twain effect “painting Aunt Polly’s fence” and they began to learn kitchen work from her soon. My daughters learned to cook well from Wendy by the end of the fifth month. Wendy’s fantastic humor was the other thing, which attracted my daughters to her.

My parents came and they met their older granddaughters next week. My daughters were familiarized with their Aunts’ families and Wendy’s family later. My daughters invited their friends for smaller parties and they boasted to their friends about us. Wendy and I were honest and we were glad of this. Vanity, vanity, but it felt so good. Yes, Wendy dazzled the friends of my daughters with her kitchen magic too. Whenever I was home I talked with my older daughters a lot. Wendy helped a lot as she read stories to the younger kids so that I could talk with my daughters. These five months were a marvelous compensation for those five years when I didn’t see them at all.

It was a good opportunity, so I took samples of my older daughters with mine to our “friendly” DNA test laboratory and we learned I was their biological father. They also gave us similar fancy certificates in addition to the official positive results so, just as I got for my younger kids. I will show these certificates to my older daughters, when Zoë becomes eighteen years old. I calmed down a bit as Amy perhaps became a cheater after the birth of our kids.

The pedophile incident was erased from the memories of my older daughters. Wendy’s fantastic personality and our family life with our kids were such good life situation changes to help my daughters forgot the possibility of the serious monstrosity entirely. They were lucky, because Amy’s husband had begun to molest them just a little. No physical act took place, but this molestation was enough for a tiny behavioral change. Mr. Bramble had good eyes to notice this. The Police responded quickly so their psyche didn’t suffer. According to Heather Banks, if the Police had delayed only a week, the matter would have been worse. Thank God, we were lucky, they forgot this nightmare entirely. Collin George got three years without parole. His international file sharing activity was sufficient evidence in addition to the molestation of my daughters for the court. I thought he would not have an easy life in prison. Wendy and I have a deep conviction that had Amy not separated my daughters from me, this would not have happened and this is the main reason I will never forgive Amy.

Amy started divorce proceedings and was soon divorced after her husband’s guilty verdict. Amy took back her maiden name after the divorce. The court established Amy was not directly responsible in the pedophile attempt, only that she chose a bad husband and stepfather candidate. She got custody back after the five months but with additional terms: Wendy and I got every second weekend, two weeks for summer holiday and a week holiday in the other part of the year. We got Boxing Day, Thanksgiving, the second day of Easter and my Birthday. The court’s decision had an interesting appendix. If my ex wife violated my visitation rights so that I was not able to see my daughters, she would lose custody and my daughters would move to our home. My lawyer and we were satisfied with the court’s decision.

The five month custody ended in the middle of June and Wendy returned my older daughters to Amy. I told Wendy I didn’t want to meet my ex, except for the inevitable occasions, like weddings, graduations, etc. My oldest daughter Carol graduated from her school and would go to high school in September. I saw Amy, but I successfully avoided her at Carol’s graduation.

I found a camp in Missouri on an artificial lake and booked a lake shore bungalow. The bungalow had its own stairs to the lake. I rented a special travel van with automatic transmission, child lock doors and barred windows so Wendy and I could drive the 1100 miles alternately. We would go to the camp with the four children at the end of July. Wendy always brought my older daughters from Amy and took them back. I forgot to mention my older daughters now call me Daddy.

My fantastic Kitchen Fairy wife Wendy will tell the next events.

Chapter 9.
Who is the true loser?

Amy got custody back so I was picking John’s daughters up and returning them to Amy. This was going to be our second weekend; I had never entered Amy’s house, the girls always came out with their weekend packs on Friday afternoon. Then I would take them home on Sunday evening. They were happy when they were with us and we never talked about Amy with them.

Next was the start of our two week summer holiday. I went by the three seats state Ford Focus station wagon on Friday afternoon to bring the girls and two weeks luggage. When I stopped at Amy’s house Amy, Carol and Zoë came out together and invited me into their house. I accepted and I got my crutches out of my car and went into the house with them. We sat down and the girls giggled and disappeared from the living room.

Amy began, “How can I tell you? My daughters praise you for hours and I have to listen to them about you’re being such a superwoman. The girls have learned to cook from you and they cook for me. Today they’ve been packing, but they took a little time to bake some Hungarian pastries. I had to look for some special things for them, poppy seeds for example. My daughters said these pastries were your favorites.”

I guessed the girls baked Hungarian strudels in my honor. The two girls brought the four just ready strudels. The first was filled with ground poppy seeds and mashed pumpkin, the second with apple and cinnamon, the third with ground poppy seeds and sour cherry and the fourth with cottage cheese and raisin. They cut each into slices and we tasted every Strudel . All were delicious and Amy liked them too.

I praised the girls, “These strudels are very tasty.”

Carol replied, “Wendy, we learned to cook from you and we wanted to show you we were good students.”

I said, “Your exam is excellent.”

The girls and I laughed.

Zoë told Amy, “Mom you can eat them for breakfast.”

Amy also praised her daughters, “I’ll eat them quickly, because these strudels are fine.”

The girls went to finish their packaging. I remained in the room with Amy.

Amy said, “John and you hate me I know. I deserve your hatred.”

She began to cry, “I was a stupid bitch. Now all day I hear from my daughters that you’re a superwoman, a true Fairy. They’re discreet so they don’t talk about John but they call him Daddy instead of Dad between themselves. “

I wondered, “AM I NOT A LOSER CRIPPLE?”

She continued her confession in tears, “I hated John and you both, when I saw your wedding photos. I was so lonely. How could I be such animal that I humiliated a handicapped woman in a crowded Mall?”

To be polite, I didn’t say you had been a stupid, impertinent bitch.

However I was mad at her, “Do you know what you did to me? I had to keep your secret from my husband how you humiliated me in that crowded Mall. I was afraid to tell him. I almost forgot your kind restraining order. If John had rushed to your house to complain about my humiliation he would have been sent to prison for three years. I had to ask him to swear on our children’s lives that he wouldn’t come near you. Only after his oath did I dare admit your humiliation two years after the fact. That’s way I’ll never forgive you or what you did to my husband!”

The weeping Amy responded in despair, “I was envious and I hated you both. But I wasn’t so cunning, so vile bitch that I would have planned an incident to send my ex-husband, the father of my kids to prison. Believe me, please, believe me! Our meeting was accidental.”

“All right. I believe you were a simple, stupid, envious woman. I don’t forgive you, but I’m willing to forget the dark past for the sake of the kids, as your daughters will forget your last ex,” I slipped a dig about her pedophile ex-husband in.

Amy said, “I agree about the interests of the children first and your words are enough for me to want a better connection with you.”

She wiped her eyes and we talked about the next day’s travel and camping. The girls finished their packing and Amy put in their luggage into my car. We said goodbye and I brought the girls to their Daddy. I thought of Amy, she got her long-lasting punishment to listen to her daughters, who would praise their Daddy and me for a long time.

Next day we set off to Missouri, my husband and I drove alternately. Our bungalow was next to the lake and had a wide stairway took people into the lake. I could sit on the last wide stair, so the two-legged members of our family could go to the lake beside me, when the UV was lower. I was in the water so the water level was above my waist. The younger kids were playing in the water near the stairs, where the water was not deep. John, Carol, or Zoë always looked after our younger kids, so the other two could swim in the deeper part of the lake. I looked at my whole family in the lake and I thought I was very lucky and happy.

We went on side trips in the surrounding area and ate fast food or we went to restaurants. After six days the older girls stood in front of us, hands on their hips. They said, it was enough snack food and restaurants and they would cook simpler dishes for us. Zoë and Carol had only a condition that I had to help them. The campground had a good mini shop so we could buy everything and the girls and I brought the goods in my backpack to the bungalow. The kitchen in the bungalow was not planned for one-legged people, so I sat in the kitchen and assisted the two girls. John was very proud of his older daughters.

At night I was in a euphoric state from our ANR sex two days later that the girls began to cook. I lain on my husband and didn’t let him sleep.

I looked deep into his eyes, “Do you remember Honey, when we learned that we were LOSERS?”

John looked at me, “Yes, Amy said that to you at “White Oaks” Mall.”

I went on, “Do you know your wife achieved her dreams, a good husband, two kids and a good house? I have a job and I’m working at home for your firm. I’m an amputee and I’m on holiday with my family. I AM NOT A LOSER, I AM SUCCESFUL!”

John agreed, “You’re right Kitchen Fairy you’re successful.”

I continued, “You’ve a successful wife, a nice house, a good business with my brother, smart healthy and nice young kids plus two smart beautiful older daughters, who are here with us for two weeks. Your elder daughters come to us every second weekend and your stupid first wife is a BTB (burnt the bitch) woman. Honey, you could say YOU ARE NOT A LOSER! Could you say it to my face Honey?”

He said, “Yes my beautiful Kitchen Fairy I can. I AM NOT A LOSER I AM SUCCESSFUL, TOO!

I kissed him passionately for a long time and I said, “I have my last secret and I want to share it with you now.”

John was curious, “What is that?”

I confessed, “When you aren’t in the house and the kids are sleeping soundly, sometimes I cry from happiness and I’d like to weep now. May I do that now?”

We embraced each other in bed and John agreed, “Wendy, Yes!”

Then I began to cry from HAPPINESS in the arms of my dear husband.

The end.