I'm not sure if she is a devotee or simply a voyeur. All I know is that she somehow managed to stay in our room after everyone left. I didn't notice her, a tribute to her stalking skills. Over the course of the evening I woke up feeling like I was being watched, being stalked, being desired. I've never had the experience of having a 'devotee' although I hear women with disabilities talking about them from time to time. For those out of the know 'devotee' is the term used to describe people attracted to people with disabilities ... many more interested in the disability than the person. If you can make a shoe a fetishtic object, then why not disability, or any other trait.
Anyways, tutorial over, I haven't had the experience of being sought out and lusted over because of my disability. I haven't felt the deep burning passion that devotees have towards crippled limbs and twisted smiles. No, not I. Then I realized that I've only read about such denizens of the edges of sexual perversion on blogs by women with disabilities. Do men with disabilities have such things ... well, I guess so because ... I have.
As I was saying, I felt that I was being watched. I tossed the idea aside. Surely there was just Joe and I in the room. But I was wrong. I woke to the stare of a woman in a beautiful blue gown. There she was perched on my bedside table. Wait till the tabloids get ahold of this - Cinderella was there with her luscious lips all painted red and she was staring - unblinking really - at me. I rose and tried to cover myself from her red hot glare. I knew immediately that she had escaped from Ruby's pack of princesses that she'd been carrying around. She spent the evening not looking at Prince Chariming's tight ass and meager basket, no she was with me - who looks like I'm half way into turning myself back into a pumpkin.
So me and Cindy spent the night together in Orlando Florida. I can't believe that, of all the stories I'd have to tell, I'd end up with a princess in my bedroom. Joe is dealing with his jealousy nicely.
Hey wait a minute. If Cindy was with me, where did the Prince spend his night, and why does Joe's breath smell of plastic?