Amputee angelina #7120

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< Amputee angelina >

This Mr. Gonzales, the one who does the modifications... will he be here soon?"

"Let me check with Mr. Gray, OK? Have a seat, I'll be right back.
"Have a seat?" She looked up at the chairs and back at me with a "you gotta be 

kidding" expression.
"Sure...Oh, I see what you mean. Let's see, You could use a lift, right?"
"That would be nice. You're sure you don't mind me putting my shoes on the
furniture?"
"Your...shoes?"
"Yeah. See, I've got these two patches of leather sewn into my jeans where the legs
would be. Call them shoes. They're probably dirty from walking in from the car."
"I'm sure that won't be a problem."
"Good. It's either that or I'd have to take them off. But that means I'd have to take
off my jeans too. Like I said, they're sewn in. I guess I should leave them on for now."
She smiled this real cute smile and looked up at me. I was really starting to like this girl.
"Sorry about needing a lift," she said. "Where I live, Daddy's put ramps around
places so I can get up by myself. I can do stairs, though. Here, just hold me on each side."
I guess she could feel how shaky I was, trying to find where to put my hands with
her mammoth bosom staring me in the face.
"It's OK," she said. "I won't break. See if you can find the bottom of my rib cage.
Reach under my sweater."
I was very glad that no one decided to come into the showroom at just that moment.
"Higher," she said, "Get underneath more. There. Perfecto," she chirped. "Now
lift." I lifted. "There! See?"
In a second she was in the chair, leaning back, tossing her curls. "Thanks. Nice
chairs."
"Let me see what's going on with Manny. Mr. Gonzales. I'll be right back. Need
anything?"
Nope. Go on, see what's happening."
I ducked around back and stuck my head into the cubby-hole that Doug kept for an
office.
"Anything?"
"Nada. If that guy wasn't so good at the job he'd be outta here on his ass in two
seconds flat. How's the customer?"
"She's OK. Nice. Doesn't seem to be in a hurry."
"Good. Take her to lunch on the company if you have to. You got your card?"
"Yes. Um..She likes the X4."
"So do I. The answer's no."
"No?"
"No, you can't take it out for a test-drive. At least not until I do." His serious face
cracked into a smile. "But that could be any time now."
I nodded and headed back to the showroom.
Jane Forester was twisting and turning in her chair. She had a piece of her sweater
in her teeth and was tugging at it, pulling it upwards.
"Hi, I said, "Need a hand?"
She just looked at me without letting loose of the sweater and raised an eyebrow.
"Mmmff," she said.
"Sorry. Figure of speech," I said. " I should have said, "Do you require assistance,
or some other politically correct phrase."
She smiled and dropped the bit of sweater.
"I can take care of myself," she said, "thank you very much, but if you could help
me off with this sweater, I'd be a happier little girl. I got dressed thinking I'd be back in the
shop. It's a lot warmer out here."
The thought of this curly headed girl with a giant bosom but no arms or legs getting
dressed all by herself caused some interesting images to flash through my mind. She
ducked her head and I lifted the sweater from her shoulders. The cotton T-shirt she wore
underneath stuck to the wool and came up with the sweater, completely revealing two
astoundingly huge naked breasts. Their sheer size caused them to completely cover the
front of her body and with their obvious weight they nearly reached the chair seat. As
monstrous as they were, I was surprised to how well proportioned they seemed. No
stretch marks either. Just big. Gigantic. Her actual torso was quite trim and I could see
now that she had a small waist and perfect hips, as far as they went.
I pawed at the T-shirt and managed to stretch it down over her body. It had
cartoons on it and I could see where extra side panels had been sewn in. She shook her
curly head. "Whew. Thanks." She shook her shoulders up and down causing havoc in the
front of her shirt. "That feels much better." She watched the undulating double tent before
her until the movement stopped. "Once those guys get going it's hard to stop 'em," she
laughed, "but thanks again...one more thing...would you mind rolling up my sleeves? I
don't have much in the arms department, but I guess they'll want to see what I have to
work with."
To say that she didn't have much in the arms department was a true understatement.
At her right shoulder projected something about the size of a tennis ball with a tiny flat
button at the tip. She seemed to have some control over it, although there seemed to be no
supporting bone structure. A slender remnant grew her side a little below her narrow left
shoulder. It was like a finger, except it just sort of hung there.

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