They were dating since a couple of weeks now, but she still wasn’t fully used to it. Losing her right leg had made her develop what she called ‘expecting the frown’, the ever present wariness to not be hurt by how she was looked at. It was a self-protection she hated as much as she’d learned it to be necessary. The feigned I don’t minds had simply been a disappointment too often. But this new lover had none of that. In fact, she meanwhile started to feel at ease with accepting he had the opposite.
It had been her frowning when he’d first confessed, and she vividly recalled being pretty flabbergasted. A guy finding her hot for having no right leg was a little unusual after all. He was showing no sign of his particular attraction being unhealthy though. Other than being fascinated by her amputation, he was totally fond of the person she was, and his finding her very attractive included a flattering lot more than just her stump.
It allowed initial misfaith to become curiosity, with soon increasing comfort.
“I’d say it’s totally fascinating,” he replied, grinning very curiously.
She was on her side, resting her head on a hand and elbow, laying on the bed. She was also naked, as he was. They were facing each other and both quite enjoyed this, he seeing her beautiful stump so playfully move, she so openly daring to show him.
“Tell me what’s so fascinating then.”
“The shape, the way it moves, seeing what the amputation left of you leg, everything.”
“They didn’t leave much, no.”
“Would you mind if I wouldn’t mind they didn’t?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” she smiled reassuringly.
“It’s a bit of a guilt feeling thing. I would never wish it on you…”
“I know. Just take it as a given. I have it and it’s not gonna change. So you might as well enjoy it then.”
“Can you as well?”
“It’s not extremely practical, I must say, but you get used to it. In three months it’ll be ten years already,” she replied, smiling relaxed. “And I don’t think I’ve ever called it enjoying, but I’m happy. Happy and grateful.”
“For having survived. My biggest chance was I wouldn’t…”
She’d already told him about the bone cancer. Not that they discovered it dangerously late though, forcing the high amputation she had, and with a distinct chance of it not being enough to stop the cancer.
She had also not told him about two fellow teenagers she’d been in hospital with then. Who had not been lucky. About the deep impression it had left, one that had made a thirteen year old a grown-up. Death being so close while other girls worried about pimples and boys had that effect, and she’d always kept it with her, using it whenever things were not that easy. Having to miss a leg sucked, but fate had made it her price for a second chance to life. And since she wanted that life dearly, she was paying it. Not that it was ever going to change reality, it did help to face it with a smile.
And right now, it didn’t make her mind to see him enjoy what she was willing to pay.
“So, it’s maybe not a life insurance but it got me over the first hurdle,” she smiled.
“Puts things in perspective for me too…”
“It should, don’t you think?”
“Believe me, it’s always on my mind.”
“Tell me how?” she asked, seeking the stroking of his hand with visible pleasure.
“It’s the ethical dilemma,” he replied. “My enjoyment requires you to be missing a leg.”
“It does, yes. But maybe there’s also the aspect of what came first?”
“How do you mean?”
“I had this long before I met you. You can’t help I have it, so you needn’t feel responsible? That’s what I mean by taking it as a given.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“At the same time I don’t want you to take it for granted,” she added, leading his hand now. “Feel it, touch it. You can like it, and I’m getting used to you being aroused by it, and I really wanna learn to enjoy it. But I also want you to realise they cut off my leg, so feel that too.”
He nodded. And he did.
“If you push into the back of my stump, you can feel the thigh bone. Careful though, cause it’s a little sensitive.”
He did as asked. Felt the short bone end, and how the remaining muscles were draped around it to form her stump.
“So that’s where they sawed it off,” she stressed unvarnsihedly.
She was well aware this was a strange mix of confrontation, provocation and enjoyment. Exactly what she wished it to be. Ten years were enough to be okay with it. A nice guy happening to find it sexy was a weird but pleasant surprise. Yet she also felt a pressing urge to not spare him the details, of what they’d done and of what it meant.
The rounded shape he found so attractive was also the remainder of a leg bluntly removed, her irreversible reason to never walk again. And she wanted him to be convinced of that, as a sort of price she wished him to pay as well.
She’d never let anything stop her, and neither would his liking do. She knew she was going to really enjoy once she’d be fully used to it. After all, the prospect of no more expecting the frown was rather luring. In fact, she was already smiling pretty widely whenever his looking showed just how much he loved her physical appearance. He was excavating a feeling she had buried ten years ago, the pleasure of being looked at with desire.
“What muscles are left?”
“A bit of everything,” she smiled. “And somewhat chaotically rearranged, at least that’s how it feels.”
“Can you show?”
“This is bending my knee,” she demonstrated with a wide grin.
“Cute! I want more!” he grinned, even more widely.
She obliged, giggling and laughing. She moved her foot, wiggled her toes, flexed her upper leg and demonstrated the twitching caused by tickling the scar. It was an unreserved display of intact motoric function and amputated musculature turning that into a clumsy looking lack of purpose.
She was long past finding it difficult to watch. She meant what she said when she found it funny. Or maybe cute was the better word. The word he was using too.
Ten years were also enough to no longer feel it as an amputation. Rationally it did of course. Emotionally though, she embraced it as a natural part of her body, without bad feelings or anything reminding of how it’d been. Having a stump was the way it was and it was good, allowing her to appreciate its softness to the touch, even its being sensuously sensitive. Even deep in her heart, there was acceptance. Not just the neutral type but acceptance able to cause the smile of being happy to pay the price.
So, his liking wasn’t clashing with her feelings; it just needed some more getting used to. His phenomenal erection in response to this was still a bit hard to believe, so to say. But it was there, really there, and her curious and excited will to let that enter her sexual awareness was as strong as the urge to show him the naked truth of having to miss her right leg.
“It’s a two-way thing, eh?” he asked, as if reading her thoughts.
He touched her stump the way she wished him to, sure of her sensing he was. It added cold shivers to his arousal, the confronting way she wanted him to experience. There was also purgation though, the merging of two desires. Of him feeling fully free to let the beauty of her stump dizzy him with her consenting, and of her feeling certain he was well aware of what he was aroused by, and using that to throw aside her final reservations.
“It is,” she whispered, smiling softly as she wiggled her stump in his cupping hand. “And I’m ready when you are…”