Pole Dancer

By Peggy Buxton

Mark could not believe the doctor's letter. He had already agreed to help. It was not right for the doctor to back out, so he made the long trip to confront him. After the meeting, things had not changed. Mark walked the sidewalks depressed and dejected past hookers offering to make him happy. Impossible. He did not expect to meet Joan, nor she him. It changed their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peggy Buxton
• Release date: Feb 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465884299

Peggy Buxton

Author, wife, lover, and amputee. I have been missing my left leg for years. Growing up I felt that it should not be there, and it is has been a blessing to have it gone. Today's term for this condition is BIID and in the past simply referred to as being a 'wannabe'. I am a full-time crutch user. Like my husband, I find amputees fascinating. 'Devotee' is the frequently used term. My stories have characters that mirror my life in some manner - wanted/needed to be an amputee or want to live with an amputee. I make no apology for my descriptions of these people and there is no intent to take away from the suffering of some amputees. I love feedback on the stories, but I cannot promise to reply.

Book preview

Pole Dancer

Peggy Buxton

Copyright 2012 by Peggy Buxton

Smashwords Edition

* * *

Mark traveled the world. Friends were jealous of the thirty-year olds success and freedom. If only they knew the turmoil that brewed just under the surface. It had always been there, but now even he could not control the desires.

Doctor Johnson, thanks for meeting with me, he said as he shook the man’s hand.

Please, have a seat. I read your letter, and I don’t know what I can do to help.

"That’s why I thought we should meet in person. I know you helped Fran Conners. I met her though her husband and he understood the need." He didn’t really know either, but had swapped a few emails.

Oh-h, the man in the white doctor’s coat droned, rubbing his chin. That was several years ago.

"Yes and I hope nothing has changed with your ability to help."

Well, as I explained in my letter to you, the doctor looked idly toward the window for a moment then back at Mark, I can no longer do that kind of surgery.

What do I do?

The doctor walked around the desk and leaned against the edge with arms crossed. I’m at a loss to offer anything.

Dr. Johnson opened the office door and waited for Mark to leave. There was nothing more said. Mark was no closer to a solution than when he boarded the plane ten thousand miles before.

Mark walked the bustling sidewalk leading from the five-story medical office building. The voices of others spoke in words he did not understand. The day was hot and humid, his shirt was growing damp with sweat, and he was miserable. In a park by the river, he called the number on a business card, but after listening to a message that they would be out of the office for a few days, he left a message in hopes someone would call back.

The neighborhood changed with each block. Bars with opened shutters and no window glass in the openings became more frequent. Young women hawking themselves for small amounts of money were everywhere. Five dollar, make you happy man, one kept repeating and not letting go of his arm. He finally freed himself. The woman’s looks weren’t so bad, but not his type.

A stiff drink of whiskey sounded like a temporary solution, but no bar offered an inviting interior. One without a name seemed as good as it could be and he took a seat on the wobbly stool. The gruff bartender begrudgingly poured the drink and took his money without a word spoken. Most of the customers appeared to be drunken sailors on leave for the past few days and unable to walk now, women that draped their shoulders probably all off the street. Some were attractive, most probably never had been.

He was on his second drink when a female voice whispered in his ear, her body rubbing suggestively against him. Want some company?

How much? he said, his tone disgusted. He had not even looked at her.

Not that kind of lady, just wanted someone to talk with. I’m kind of lonely. It was a fucked up kind of day.

Whiskey for the lady, Mark said to the bartender.

He finally looked and was surprised to find an attractive woman with long brown hair. Her face was devoid of makeup. She didn’t need any. Dressed in a black tee shirt and denim jeans, she seemed to have a nice body.

Bet my day was more fucked that yours, he said, clinking the glasses together.

They sipped then introduced themselves. Joan, from San Francisco, she said then sipped again.

A fight started on the other side of the bar between two sailors. The bartender pulled a shotgun from under the bar as if it were not the first time. He yelled something in a foreign language. Suddenly, the place returned to normal.

Never been in a bar where that happened, she said. Thought it was only in movies.

Mark noticed her glass was empty. Want another?

Guess after that ruckus it might help. She paused to let him order two more drinks. Last night, the dame that fired my ass this morning took me to a strange bar that had am an amputee pole dancer.

No shit? Why did she fire you?

As God is my witness, an amputee woman hopped out on stage and spent half an hour humping the pole and showing off boobs and stumps.

Stumps...plural?

Uh-huh. She was missing an arm and leg. Why?

Ah, just the image of an amputee pole dancer.... Then you made it sound as though she was missing more than one limb. He chuckled. Was she good?

Actually, yes. If I were missing a limb, I would hope I could be that free about the way I looked.

He gave her a long look. You would look fantastic missing a leg. He grinned.

Flattery will get you much in this world.

"How about a date after the amputation?"

Hmm, when will that be? She sipped the drink.

Soon, I hope.

Really?

Sorry, it feels a little strange talking about this.

What if I said it was okay? She sipped again.

Then we could continue. I bet your interest in the pole dancer is what got you fired.

How did you know?

Lucky guess. Lets ditch this joint and have lunch, maybe catch another performance of that woman. He chuckled.

I’d like that.

Joan’s tone of voice almost made it seem she was saying I’d like to spend the rest of the day in bed with you, but Mark could only hope. She was even lovelier as they walked out of the bar after a few drinks than when he first looked at her. He pictured her missing a leg, maybe that and even an arm, the way the pole dancer might have been.

I hope you know where we’re going, Mark said.

Sure. There’s a place in the next block I’ve been to several times.

They walked beside each other, and she held his hand without a suggestion from him. He liked that and felt the new friendship might have taken a step up the charts.

For two, something dim and romantic, she said to the hostess then turned to smile at Mark with a slight shrug.

Sitting at the table, she again took his hand and stared into his eyes. Bedroom eyes, she whispered.

Can’t help it when I’m looking at the most beautiful woman around. He chuckled.

So, you think I’d be even more so missing a leg?

Careful, you’ll make me unable to stand for hours.

Hmm, I’ll take that as yes. She dropped a shoe and rubbed his lower leg under the table. Do you tell that to all the women you meet?

I have a feeling you might be the first. I was just thinking about the pole dancer.

Yeah, me too.

"What really pissed your boss off enough to get rid of you?"

Joan’s chest swelled driving naked nipples forcefully against fabric leaving indentations. Just as she was about to speak, the waitress appeared. The distraction seemed to last forever before the waitress walked away with the food order. Joan took another deep breath with the same result.

I’d been consulting with Kim for almost two months, mostly from home. I would come here for a few days for some face-time with her and some of her staff. She paused and sipped from the freshly delivered glass filled with dark merlot. Hmm, good. What do you do? she asked as if to distract him from her story.

Not fair. You were telling me all about you.

You don’t want to hear that. It’s boring.

How did you end up at the bar with that pole dancer?

"Some of the married men at the office had been hitting on me. Kim thought it might be