| I can't believe my
luck sometimes. You are not going to believe this story in a million years.
Trust me. I still don't. I'm going to tell you the story of how Monica and
I met. I know it sounds boring, but trust me, it isn't. You'd be surprised
what a broken leg and a cast can do for random two people in movie store.
It all started with what was supposed to be our first date. Actually it all started before that. It all started at the video store in the Foreign Film section. Wait. Hold on. It sort of started before that. Rewind to the parking.
As I entered the video store, I made my usual once over and on the left side of the sort a brunette head was awkwardly bobbing to the right side of the sort. The head's body would most definitely have "that" sort of gate. It was definitely perched atop a pair of crutches. I had to investigate. I darted straight down the middle hoping to catch a glimpse at the intersection. Luckily, there was no interference. Time froze for me sometimes. She was in her late teens early twenties, athletic looking, fresh looking blue cast to her knee on her right leg. My powers were only so strong, time unfroze before I could see her toes. Either she wasn't new to this whole crutching thing or sports really paid off, because she was a terror on those crutches.
I kept my distance, but moved in quickly for the kill. I had to see those toes. If not I would go home feeling incomplete. She was hovering in the Foreign Film section. She no longer held her casted leg high off the ground. She now rested the sole of her casted foot on top of New Balance running shoe. She occasionally wiggled her toes. We weren't alone in the Foreign Film section though. Another young woman was standing there. I paid no attention. I was too enthralled with the girl's toes to care. They were beauty in a normal way. They weren't long and they weren't short. They looked so delicate protruding from the fiberglass masterpiece on her leg, graced with blue polish on the ends. I wanted to devour her.
Before I could say anything she was gone. Gone. I was left standing there with my jaw hanging to the ground in the Foreign Film section. Alone with some pretentious film student. We were left ogling at movies we had no clue about. I began to steal quick glances at Monica. She wasn't that bad looking. In fact, she was beautiful. I couldn't help but give her that gross guy head-to-toes once over. She had long dark hair that she kept up and off shoulders, ice cold blue eyes that cooled my soul on such a scorching summer day, and her skin possessed a beautiful natural tan. She was definitely dressed for these warm summer days. She wore a tight shirt that left shoulders bare, and a long skirt, that let her sandal clad feet poke out. Boy did my eyes pause on those feet. I pretended to eye those Fassbinder movies again, but I was really drooling all over her long slender toes void of any polish.
That's when it happened. We both went to grab for the same movie at the same time. Angst Essen Seele Auf. Fassbinder. The only foreign movie I remember from German class in high school. It had nothing to do with the movie either. I had been dating, Bianca, the president of German Club at the time. Bianca, was that blond haired blue-eyed German stereotype. Over winter break the German Club had gone to Germany. Most of the German Club returned with fun souvenirs, but poor Bianca returned with a pair of crutches and a plaster cast from the base of her long toes to the top of her thigh. Since the teacher had been in Germany with the Germany Club no lesson plan had been made. So he showed the Fassbinder movie. My German was less than stellar. Every day after school, Bianca's parents would drop her off and we would "study." I'd suck her toes. She'd ride me. Or we'd just have sex. We did all this while she translated the movie to me.
So anyway. We flirted for a minute or two. I expected her to be a bitch, but to my dismay she was not. She was smart, nice, and really down to earth. We talked, flirted a little more, and agreed to dinner in a couple days. I was surprised by how much she flirted back.
Let us fast forward a bit to me sitting nervously in an expensive Italian restaurant. She's Italian. She's late. No big thing. I'll wait. I wait. I feel like such an ass. I should have known better. Why would a gorgeous girl such as herself go on a date with the likes of me? We met at a movie store for God's sake. Hahaha funny joke. How could you be so dumb?
After two and a half hours I gave. I swallowed my pride, drank some bourbon, and went to bed with a bruised pride. Tomorrow's a new day. So are the next few days.
A few days later I received a very unexpected call. When I say unexpected, I mean unexpected. This is like "call of the century" material. I was just sitting around reading when she called.
"Mark?" Her voice was quiet and hesitant. I wasn't quite sure how I felt. Angry. Hurt. Pissed off. There was a sharp pain in my stomach. I couldn't hang up though.
"Yeah." I tried not to hang up. "I tried not to be a complete asshole. I had to let her know was mad though. I'm sure that was pretty obvious. I mean who wouldn't be mad after being stood up. Come on Mark. Think.
" I'm sorry about the other night, but I can explain. Something...I...well..." She didn't know how to put it in to words. Where should she begin? What should she say? "I broke my leg." Normally Mark would be a little skeptical of a blow off like that, but this wasn't the time to be an asshole, given his affinity for the casted.
"Well I was really excited about our date the other night because you seemed like a really nice guy. Well I wanted to look as nice as possible. I ended up running a little late, and the cab showed up earlier than I told him to. So I quickly finished getting ready and rushed out of the house. As I was rushing down the stairs my heel caught the last step and I went down hard. I knew something was broken right away. The cabby helped me in the cab and rushed to the hospital. He didn't even charge me anything. I had to sit in the waiting room for 4 hours before I was even seen. Then finally I saw a Doctor, who ordered some X-rays. Broken ankle and a decent sized crack in my tibia. Then it was another hour before they could get me into a cast. I'm so sorry. It was an absolute nightmare. I didn't get home until after one. I figured it was too late by then. I was thinking that if you don't mind an invalid maybe I could have a second chance."
After hearing Monica's story, I felt like the biggest jerk on earth. I wasn't even thinking about the cast. Sure it was a plus, but she'd broke her leg and ankle for me. This was my fault.
"You can have a second chance. A second and third if you please. Do you like steak?" I changed the pace.
"I love it." She wasn't sure what was going on.
"Give me your address, and 8 o'clock I will be over with the fixings for the best meal of your life. I still have that movie too." I was a little too zealous and hung up on her before she could give me her address. Luckily, she didn't find me to be a complete idiot. She called back almost immediately to give me her exact coordinates. Little did each of us know just how well this was going to work out.
On the way there, it struck me as to what I was truly doing. Not only was I on my way to cook dinner for one of the most beautiful women I had ever laid eyes on, but she was also in a cast. The length of the cast was debatable. Not only was she in a cast, but she also had perfect feet. I had struck gold. I tried not to play with myself too much in the car. It was hard.
So there I stood at her door. In one hand, I held the ingredients for a spectacular dinner, and in the other I held an expensive bottle of wine and a small bouquet of flowers. I had already rung the doorbell. I could hear her crutching to the door as fast as she could. Would it be a full leg or short leg? Thump thump. The floor was wooden. The crutches were aluminum. Oh god I was going to die before she got there. Right or left leg? It didn't matter, I was just curious. The thumping stopped. She was at the door. I could hear her undoing the locks. Here was my chance to have a heart attack or runaway. I had never been so excited in my life. Bianca was different. We had been teenagers.
The door swung open. She greeted me with a huge smile. "Hey."
Time froze again, but it was kind of like she allowed it to freeze. She was allowing me to take in her situation. She was radiant and beautiful. I was in love after only two brief meetings. She was perched atop a pair of aluminum crutches. She wore a simple white top, with a black cardigan draped over her bare shoulders. She also wore a loose skirt that ended just passed her knees. It draped over her casted thigh as she held it gingerly off the ground. The cast was such a beautiful sight to behold. Monica's right leg was encased in a midnight blue cast from the base of her toes to the very top of her thigh. Her ankle was at a very rigid angle, while her knee at a very relaxed. Her toes were no longer void of polish. They matched the color of the cast. A simple silver toe ring was worn on her second toe.
"You were right that was the best steak I've ever had." After dinner we relocated to the couch. Her feet rested on a pillow in my lap.
"Well I'm glad you enjoyed." The movie had started, but both of us were barely paying attention. I think it was the 3 glasses of wine we had each had. I started rubbing her good foot a little. She closed her eyes. My eyes were glued to her cast.
"I'm so sorry about the other night. I was so excited about dinner, that's why I rushing..." She trailed off, "But then..."
I wasn't sure where she was going with her little speech. I figured she was drunk. I couldn't resist. Her cast was driving me crazy. I had to touch it. I figured it was okay. So, I started rubbing her casted toes while "accidentally" touching the cast, "Everyone keeps giving me all this sympathy for breaking my leg and ankle and being in a cast. I know you're going to think I'm kind of weird and probably never want to talk to me again, but..."
"Was she saying what I think she's saying?" I was still rubbing.
"But I like casts. I like being in a cast. I like seeing people in casts. It turns me on. Casts turn me on." She was waiting for a response. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to kill her scene. I didn't want to be anticlimactic.
"Me too. That's why I saw you in the Foreign Film section of Blockbuster that day." Her jaw dropped.
" I'd been following her the whole time she was in there. What do you like? I loved the way she held her leg off the ground. She held it nice and high. Even though she really didn't need to. The knee was at almost a 90-degree angle. I love watching people crutch. How about you? What is your deal?" I was still rubbing her casted toes, but her good foot was now kneading my crotch. Things were definitely very heated in the living room, and no one was watching Fassbinder.
"I love the cast itself, and the toes sticking out." Without warning I lifted her casted foot and slipped her toes one by one into my mouth and sucked as hard as I could. She giggled a little at first, but started moaning the harder and harder I sucked. It wasn't long before the couch just wasn't sufficient and we moved our activities elsewhere.
But that was the story of how Monica and I met. I know it was a little hard to believe, but reality is often hard to believe.
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