An old praejudicium
There is a noticeable curvature of her spine. Curvature is a nice word but it’s really not quite there yet. Over a period of time it hits home that nothing is ever as simple as it seems.
Anyway, Ms Curvature-of-the-spine, let’s call her Julie, is getting down to it with Ted Silversteen in the back of his battered old Princess, her tongue slithering along the upper set of his old dentures and hands everywhere. He’s spent quite a bit of time imagining making love to her. What will it be like? Will he find other curvatures beneath her dress? Hidden bends and bevels in her pants?
She unzips the front of his trousers and takes it out, her tongue in his ear now. He can feel all the old wax begining to break down with the moisture. He carresses her curvature and soon there is a noticeable hardening and enlargement of his member.
This may be the kind of stream of consciousness perversion that worries some men but it doesn’t bother old Ted one bit. He hasn’t been able to get it up in years. Good old Julie. What does it matter if her curvature turns him on? Compared to the amputee nuts he has no problem.
There is one case he’s read about. A woman. Reckons she’s an amputee in a whole person’s body. She’s desperate to lose something, doesn’t care what. An arm, a leg, a hand, a foot… Contacts a sympathetic surgeon who tries to convince her that perhaps it will be sensible to adopt a gradual approach: a finger first, maybe, or a toe, then a hand or a foot. But she isn’t having any, tries to slice her whole bloody leg off with a chain saw and dies of shock.
Or perhaps it’s elation.
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