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Carolyn drove Bob’s old Honda to his house to exchange it for her own car. She noted gratefully upon arriving that Bob’s wife wasn’t home. Bob invited her in and she used a spare bedroom to remove the leg brace and the hidden radio transmitter and microphone. She had carried in a spare pair of flip-flops which replaced her “orthopedic” shoes. Then she and Bob talked a few minutes about getting the audio from his bank surveillance on a CD for her use and Bob’s next assignment.

“OK, what’s next…you want me to shake down this Donna Steele chick?” asked Bob. He was referring to the hooker that Ronald Cruikshank, the bank president, hired to be his occasional handicapped escort. Bob had traced her phone number and cross-referenced it to find her residence.

“I need you to play bad cop. Get her nervous enough to tell you when she’s meeting Cruikshank again. Make her think you’re after him, but that you’ll bust her for hooking if she doesn’t cooperate. Then, I want pictures of the two of them together. Nothing fancy…just a few for the record. I don’t need any bedroom photos or anything like that. Can you get it done this week?”

Bob agreed, and Carolyn slipped him two $100 bills with a wink.

“Maybe a little more when you’re done. And…you still get dinner for two,” laughed Carolyn.

Their understanding was that this escapade was off the record and never to be discussed. Bob wasn’t sure what all this business was about, but was too loyal to Carolyn to ask too many questions. Carolyn was a tough lawyer who was very private about the details of assignments she gave him. She paid him well and it was not his concern what she was up to. He had to admit to himself, though, that his employer was quite the actress. If he didn’t know Carolyn and had simply seen her in the bank he would certainly have taken her for a bona-fide polio victim.

Carolyn hugged him, thanked him for being a great friend. She stowed the brace and shoes, along with the crutches she had used, in the trunk of her Lexus and left. She called Denise from her cell phone and reported that the first phase of their plan had gone quite well. Denise was thrilled and invited Carolyn over for a drink. Carolyn happily agreed.

Upon arrival at Denise’s complex Carolyn saw the same woman at the mailbox who had been getting her mail the last time Carolyn came over. That time she had been wearing the leg brace and was practicing her polio role on crutches. Chuckling to herself, Carolyn parked and got out of the car. She turned to see the woman looking at her oddly, and then watched her jaw drop as Carolyn simply walked up the entryway to Denise’s apartment. The situation reminded Carolyn of neighbor Gladys Kravitz’s reactions on the old “Bewitched” TV show when she witnessed some of Samantha’s magic.

Carolyn knocked on the door and it was opened by a nice-looking man. She was momentarily startled, but recovered and introduced herself.

“I’m Bart, Denise’s friend. Come on in. Denise is in the bedroom.”

Carolyn entered the apartment and sat on Denise’s couch. güvenilir bahis Bart offered her a glass of the chardonnay he and Denise were sharing. She happily accepted his offer. As he brought her glass Carolyn saw Bart’s gaze unmistakably drift to her feet, fully exposed in the cheap flip flops she was now wearing. She remembered that Denise had told her Bart loved feet and she found herself oddly glad that her pedicure was just a couple of days old.

The two made small talk for a few minutes. Bart seemed to Carolyn to be a genuinely nice guy, to her relief. He had none of the smirky, condescending attitude of Ronald Cruikshank, the banker, and the only other “devotee” Carolyn knew. Soon, Denise appeared. She was walking on her rosewood underarm crutches, which Carolyn knew was unusual. Denise preferred forearm crutches and used the several pair that she owned almost exclusively. Denise was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans and was barefoot. The right leg of her denims was rolled up to accommodate the shortness of her paralyzed leg and her tiny foot swung freely above the floor. Carolyn noted with amusement that Denise now sported a silver ring on the middle toe of her crippled foot—an adornment for Bart’s benefit, she was sure.

She swung across the room and flopped down in the recliner next to where Carolyn sat on the couch, placing her crutches neatly beside the chair. Bart took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. Denise took her wine glass and held it up to Carolyn.

“To our success,” she toasted. Carolyn reached over and clinked glassware with her friend and they all drank.

Denise began the conversation. “I told Bart what we’re up to, Carolyn…I hope you don’t mind. He’s sworn to secrecy. Right, Bart?”

Bart nodded in agreement. He looked slightly uncomfortable.

Carolyn decided to be her brash self. “So, Bart, I understand that you’re in the ‘devotee’ camp with this clown Cruikshank. But Denise has assured me that you’re a good guy.”

Bart almost choked on his wine. Flushed, he stumbled for words momentarily, but then replied. “I hope I’m a good guy. Look, here’s the deal, Carolyn. Yes, there is a small universe of people—mostly men—who are very attracted to disabled people. I could not believe my good fortune when I first met Denise because, frankly, I was wildly attracted to her.”

“Because of her leg?” interrupted Carolyn, a slight annoyance in her voice.

“No,” responded Bart patiently, looking to Denise for support.

“Bart, you don’t have to…” said Denise, shooting a frown at Carolyn. Denise knew that Carolyn instinctively felt the need to defend her, just like she always did in school when kids teased her and ostracized her.

Bart pushed on. “This is very personal, but since you two are close friends, I don’t mind the question. No…it’s not just her leg. I have always been attracted to women who walk on crutches. The specific reason for the disability isn’t the issue. I can’t explain it very well, but I can tell you that it’s documented thing and there are many men like türkçe bahis me. I have always been excited by the sight of a woman on crutches, be it because of anything from a sprained ankle to polio. But I do have to admit that I have always been very partial to those with one leg shorter than the other, and, yes, meeting Denise was an incredible experience for me.”

Carolyn persisted, “Aren’t you concerned that you’re just ‘objectifying’ people. I mean, OK, I have a big chest, right? I’ve met lots of men who seemed to only see my boobs. I felt like I was just a set of tits to them…not a woman they wanted to love for my sparkling wit and personality.”

They all laughed at this.

Bart replied with determination. “I understand your point. And, yes, there are men who have a hard time seeing past whatever it is about a woman that attracts them…the great boobs, the great legs…”

“The great feet?” interjected Carolyn with a grin.

“OK, now don’t beat up on me too much,” laughed Bart. “How did you know about that?”

“Oh, girls do talk. We doooo, Bart,” cooed Carolyn. The wine was beginning to loosen her up. “Plus, I saw you check these out when you thought I wasn’t looking.” She pulled her feet out of the flip-flops and wiggled them on extended legs. She looked at Denise, who was obviously not pleased with this violation of their confidence.

“Busted,” said Bart, looking guiltily at Denise. “But, can I finish?”

“Go on,” encouraged Carolyn.

“Well, I just meant that everybody has a turn-on. It’s the guys that can’t get past that initial turn-on that you need to be concerned about. I would never pursue a relationship with a woman just because she’s disabled. Frankly, Carolyn, most men would not stay with a big-breasted woman that they couldn’t develop a real relationship with. Are there some shallow people out there? Sure. But, I am just in awe of Denise now, as a woman. The more I get to know her the more I respect her. She knows that now, I think. And right now, I want our relationship to continue to grow. Am I turned on by her little leg and her crutches? You bet. And it’s nice to be able to admit that for what it is. But, I’m way past that being the chief motivator in this relationship. Frankly I’m crazy about Denise, period.”

Denise smiled. Bart had been eloquent in his explanation of their relationship, making Denise feel a little guilty. Ironically, it was she that had treated Bart more as a plaything than someone to build a long-term relationship with. She loved his attentions and his great body. And, the guy was really great in bed! Increasingly she liked to do things to turn Bart on, and it was from that motivation Denise had impulsively switched to her underarm crutches. She simply wanted to see if Bart responded to them any differently than he did to her forearms. She had also recently ordered a new set of “hot pink” forearm crutches just to wear for Bart’s benefit. She realized with some shame she would have to address this emotional gap soon before he fell in love. It was clear he was well on his güvenilir bahis siteleri way to that now.

Bart poured another round of wine for the three and they embarked on a discussion of Ronald Cruikshank and how best to conclude the business at hand. Denise suggested a plan that they all agreed would work well.

Bart fetched both of Denise’s cordless phones and handed one of them to her. She made sure to disable the caller ID feature before dialing Cruikshank’s cell number. Bart and Carolyn then listened in on the other phone as the connection was made. It was after 4 and First Security Bank should be closed. Denise wanted to reach him in his car. After two rings the bank president answered.

“Hi, it’s the me, the girl from the Garden Patch restaurant. Can you talk?”

Carolyn and Bart silently listened as Cruikshank answered. “Yes. I can talk,” he said. “What do you want to talk about?” Lasciviousness dripped from his voice. Bart subconsciously cringed.

“I talked to Donna Steele. She says you’re OK. I want to do the video thing. But, remember…I keep my clothes on and you don’t show my face.”

“Oh, I remember the deal. It’s OK…I’m sure that great big boot of yours will be enough for most guys to not care whether they see your face or not. Do you always use crutches or can you walk without them? I’d like to do a ‘with and without,’ if you can.”

Bart’s blood began to rise. He wanted to reach into the phone and strangle Cruikshank for treating Denise like a piece of meat for his sex machine.

Denise was undeterred, bolstered both by the knowledge that Cruikshank would be brought down soon, and by the wine. “I have to use crutches; my right leg is completely paralyzed.” But I do have a patten brace I can wear as well as the build-up. Do you know what that is?”

Cruikshank’s excitement was unmistakable. “Oh, baby! Do I know! I love those things. Bring it on!”

“That will cost you $300 extra,” said Denise boldly. Bart and Carolyn looked at her with amazement.

“Fine. That’s worth it. Do you have more than one pair of crutches?”

“Yes. I’ll bring a couple of different types. What do you think about a short dress and a pair of metallic pink forearm crutches?” Denise was warming to her role more than Bart was ready to accept.

“Fabulous, baby. If this works out, I think you have what it takes to make us both a lot of money.” Cruikshank’s voice was positively drooling with excitement now. “When can we do this?”

Carolyn looked at Denise and urgently mouthed the words, “next weekend.” She knew that Bob had to have time to do his part with “Donna Steele.” Denise nodded.

“I can’t do it until next weekend. I’m going out of town until then,” she lied. After a pause, Cruikshank agreed.

“Call me next Saturday early…maybe around 9 in the morning,” he said. “I’ll give you directions to where we’re going to do the videos. How about giving me a phone number so I can get in touch with you in the meantime if I need to.”

“Nice try. No. I’ll call you next Saturday. Have the cash ready…I want to see it before I do anything. $900. Bye.”

Denise hung up and the three laughed at her very persuasive part in the conversation. They began planning details for the final phase of their plan.

To be continued…

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