“So you’re telling me I just missed the last train?”
He nodded. “Yup.”
“And is there a hotel anyway near?”
He shook his head. “We’re happy there’s still a train stopping here, but that’s about it.”
“Anything at all that would do for a place to sleep?” she asked, looking at him with a bit of desperation.
“Sounds like going back to where you came from is not an option?”
“I took the bus because I just broke up with the one I came from,” she replied. “With a pretty loud bang too.”
“Not an option then.”
The station was situated between the two villages nearest by, in the midst of the mix of meadows and small woods that gave the countryside here its regional typicity. There were a couple of farms, but close to midnight you’d unlike find anyone awake here. Catlle farmers were early risers, and by 10 pm most every house here was dark.
She probably wouldn’t know, he thought as he looked at her. Chicks from here didn’t have punky haircuts, nor did they wear Gothic make-up. It wasn’t able to hide her glum expression though, and it made him feel sorry for her, perhaps unconsciously more so because she was using crutches. And she had to because her right leg was missing.
“I’d have a place on the couch if you can live with that?” the gallant knight in him spoke.
“Really??” she smiled with relief.
“Gee, this is really chill of you, mister.”
“Call me Dan.”
“Cynthia,” she smiled back. “Friends call me Sin.”
It came with a subtly lifting eyebrow he didn’t quite know how to interpret. During the drive home she’d struck him as a free spirited young lady who didn’t seem too heart-broken by the very recent break-up. However, the loud bang had put an end to whatever she had with one Maria, which had made him assume she was lesbian.
“Women and men,” she added as if she was reading his thoughts. “I like both, although girls tend to be more relaxed with how I look.”
“Tend to… so not Maria?” he asked, trying to start a conversation.
“Women can be hopelessly indecisive. Maria drove me mad with hers. That’s why I had to break up with her. She was totally chill with my amputation though. In fact she loved it. In that respect her exit is a shame. Plus she was pretty hot in bed; also a shame,” Cynthia replied with another lifting eyebrow.
“And um… did you say she loved it?”
“I did, yes.”
His frown did not remain unnoticed. In fact it seemed to make her smile.
“I bet this is making you curious, eh?” she said.
“Yeah, you can say it does,” he smiled.
“Nightcap while I enlighten you?” she smiled back.
“Sure, what’ll it be?”
“Um… I’ve already been eyeing that impressive stash of Scotch you have…”
“Tell me,” he grinned.
“No restrictions?” she said with a kid-in-a-candy-store smile.
“Nope. Have a look and make your choice. I’ll fetch some glasses meanwhile.”
He couldn’t help watching as she got up and hopped towards the antique cupboard containing his Scotch treasures, without crutches. Her slim fit jeans were altered to fit the curve of what was missing, which was quite a lot. Her right leg was taken off very high, from the sight of it virtually at the hip. She didn’t seem to mind it was showing though. In fact, the cut of those pants looked a lot like a statement: this is how I happen to look; take it or leave it.
“Oban 32 years old it’s gonna be,” she said when he returned. “I’ve never had it.”
“I like your taste,” he smiled. “And I presume you know it’s cask strength?”
“I do. Just a splash of water,” she replied. “Which you’ve got with you already, I see.”
“Seeing you look the way you did, I wasn’t expeting you to pick anything common.”
“Well, you did say no restrictions, didn’t you?” she pouted.
“I did. And no worries. I’d not be modest either when given a free choice,” he winked.
“Aw fuck, this is superb,” she said. “Thanks!”
“My pleasure,” he smiled, not used to women appreciating this hobby of his, but quite enjoying it.
“To enlightenment then?” she proposed a toast.
“To my enlightenment, and to our heatth.”
“Cheers to that,” she smiled, then she sat up straight, pushed out her legless right hip and looked him in the eyes. “And as to enlightenment: I said Maria loved this, and she really does. There are people who feel erotically attracted to amputation, and she’s one of them.”
“Wow, I never heard of that. And you don’t mind?”
“Well, if you would you’d have pretty good reason to, I’d say.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“It must be terrible to lose a leg. Someone finding that hot may not exactly be what you’re waiting for?”
“It sucks alright, true. But I also have my life to live,” she replied.
“Meaning it helps when someone finds me attractive and desirable.”
“And a lot of people don’t because you have one leg,” he filled in.
“And devotees do,” she added. “Maria found me drop dead irresistable for my leg being off so high.”
He frowned again.
“That’s what they’re called: devotees or devs.”
“Ah, got it now.”
“Most are male by the way. Maria’s an exception.”
“So she wasn’t the first… dev you met?”
“I tried a whole bunch of them,” she replied, grinning a little and again with a lifting eyebrow.
“I see. So that’s why friends call you Sin?”
“Basically, yes,” she replied, without a trace of embarrassment.
“Sounds like it isn’t stopping you…”
“Maybe the opposite,” she said. “Even when I’d call that unhealthy.”
“Nothing wrong with liking sex, is there?”
“There is if you sex to prove yourself,” she was swift to reply. “And I have. Not with Maria, but I had a lot of one night stands I’d put in that category.”
“That means you knew what you were doing, not?”
“I was, yes. Doesn’t make it good though, does it?”
“There are many valid reasons for having sex, and some of them come up within seconds. Doesn’t make them bad though.”
“Hmm, I think I like that,” she chuckled.
“Just being honest,” he chuckled as well. “I’m a man.”
“Does that mean you think one second reasons are restricted to men?”
She observed him, and once again there was that subtly lifting eyebrow. There was also something about the way she remained seated, upright, appearing to be pushing out her breasts, and keeping her legless hip almost coquettishly within sight.
“Just that they may have ’em more often?”
“More often is probably true,” she smiled suggestively. “And is 32 year old Oban ever giving you one second reasons?”
“It never has, because I tend to drink it with my whisky mates. But now it is, yes. Strong ones too.”
Dan’s looking changed, and Cynthia wasn’t particularly minding it did. Her break-up with the hot but very passive Maria had given her a vindictive appetite for something not beating around the bush, and the man now sitting opposite her had just given a straight answer to a suggestive question, which she liked. Next to being the one who gentlemanly rescued her from an awkward situation, Dan was also a guy she wouldn’t mind to see without that t-shirt and jeans he was looking so darn good in. And those last words of his meant odds on that she would.
“Same here,” she winked.
Most guys would take this as the sign to jump on her, and for a moment she thought Dan would as well. He just got up to help her come sit next to him though, which was unnecessary but a sweet thing to do. He did put an arm around her, to let their chatting be more close and intimate. And it was, very much too. And from this moment on he let his eyes express the very thing she’d never seen in Maria’s.
They would continue to chat for a while, but his looking at her didn’t leave a trace of doubt he now considered her his sexual prey. This gentleman hunk would converse and flirt with her, and he’d be good at it, but it’d only have one single purpose. They would chat until he sensed she was ready to be impaled, and then the predator would strike.
Cynthia was an open-minded young woman who liked a lot of things. She also enjoyed the hunt as much as the kill. And there weren’t many hunts she found more exciting than this surf ride on the waves of sexual inescapability.
They talked about her leaving Maria, the firm why’s as well as the longing regrets. Erotically they’d been a great match, great enough to cover and hide differences that turned out to be unbridgeable. They talked about what Cynthia called the pitfall of devoteeism, how her own desire to be found desirable was as much responsible for attributing too much to that attraction, just like those who had it did. That it never worked, never had at least, but neither had the alternative so far. Nice guys not minding their girl to have a leg amputation seemed impossible to find. There’d been many who claimed they didn’t, but none of them had ever passed the test of really making her feel they didn’t.
“What would make you feel I really don’t mind?” he asked, stroking her legless hip.
“If taking off my jeans gives you the same wanton look as the girl you undressed before me,” she replied, smiling but meaning every word.
“You haven’t seen that look, Cynthia. And I’ve never seen a leg amputation…”
“I’ll take my guess on the former and cut you some slack on the latter.”
Her smiling was distinctly more defiant now, and her instincts told her it’d be enough to make him do what her words implicitly suggested. She’d call this off and sleep on the couch if his response would be a let-down after all. She’d be surprised if it would be though. Good intuition had made her a versed estimator of what to expect if the naked truth was going to be revealed. Or not.
Having lost her leg at age ten, Cynthia’s sexual experiences had only been as an amputee, and she had learned to be prepared for the wry glances appearing in most every first look at her hip high amputation. She also knew to assess those first looks, to distinguish between understandable unfamiliarity and attempts to hide abhorrence. And much as she hated the tension always present in moments like these, she would never let it stop her if things felt right.
Which they did now..
“I’ll take my guess on my slack,” he replied, getting on his knees and starting to unzip her jeans.
“You’re on then, Danny boy,” she replied, smiling when she lifted her butt.
Considering what it stood for, the cut slant across the underside of her right hip was preposterously small. A mere five inches of incision, and yet it had removed her entire leg. As soon as he had her jeans off, she demonstrated just how totally by twitching what remained, and there was hardly anything moving. It confirmed what the fit of her jeans had already made him suspect. He hadn’t seen a stump then, and now he saw why. She didn’t have one.
“Legs don’t go off higher than this,” she said, her smile the most relaxed she could come up with.
“I can see, yes. Jesus.”
“The bone cancer I had was the nastiest type, plus the tumor was located mid thigh in my femur,” she explained. “They take it out completely then, and amputate everything to make sure you’ll survive. It’s called a hip disarticulation.”
“And how long have you had this?”
“I was ten.”
“Bad age,” he replied.
“There’s never a good one. But I’d be long dead if they hadn’t done this.”
“Does that help to accept it?”
“Rationally it does, and you sort of learn to live with it.”
“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’…”
She smiled. Dan didn’t seem reluctant to touch this subject, and neither was his looking abhorred or evasive. Seeing her amputation for the first time left no one unmoved, Dan not excepted, but he wasn’t looking away. It felt like he was respecting her courage by finding he should look at what she was showing him. And he was indeed now seeing the naked truth of how the amputation had ravaged her body, she found his response curiously neutral, without any signs of being turned-off.
“The buts are about coming to terms with it,” she then decided to be fully open. “Not caring about the stares I get, or the stupid pity people feel for me. Or about being scared shit to show myself to a nice guy who saved me from spending the night at a deserted railway station.”
“I’m happy I did.”
“Likewise! And who were you dropping off, by the way?”
Dan grinned. “Funny, I thought you’d have asked that a lot earlier.”
“I should have!” she laughed, not objecting when he took off her t-shirt.
“The person I dropped off was my sister,” he replied, looking as if he didn’t quite expect her to believe that.
“Uh uh…” she grinned.
“Honest! She spent the weekend with me, and she often does.”
“So you’re not chasing women at weekends?” she teased, still somewhat unbelieving.
“Well, we don’t spend every weekend together,” he grinned.
He made her bra follow. And again, there was no objection.There was surely no objection when he took off his own t-shirt, and then his jeans, properly taking care to first kick off his trainers, and more importantly his socks.
“Good attention for detail,” Cynthia chuckled. “You have no idea how ridiculous naked guys with socks on look.”
“Maybe I have, and you call this naked?” he winked.
“This I would,” Cynthia replied, lifting her butt, slipping out of her string and dropping it with a frolic smile.
She watched his boxers follow the fate of her string, then he came to sit next to her again. It seemed he sensed this was a little different for her. Showing herself naked meant showing her amputation, and she needed a little time to feel fully at ease with new eyes seeing it.
“Still not regretting my offering you a place on the couch?”
“The couch is very comfortable, and I think I like the company,” she smiled.
“And are you? Comfortable?”
“Would I allow you to undress me if I weren’t?”
“Just checking. This is all going pretty fast,” he smiled, almost apologetically.
“You should thank Maria for that. Or we should, rather.”
She nodded slowly, and pulled him closer for a nibbling kiss. “I was so totally fed up with her passiveness and indecisiveness…”
“….That you longed for active and decisive, you mean?” he replied, making the kiss a more serious one.
“Yeah, a guy who lets his eyes tell me he’s going to have me raw, cask strength, undiluted.”
“Is that what my eyes are telling you,…Sin?”
“Yup, and you know what?”
“I’m regretting I took that Oban with a splash of water,” she chuckled.
“Because you’d rather be undiluted too, eh?”
“For a guy, you’re not bad at reading thoughts,” she teased.
“I talk a lot with my sister. Makes good practice,” he grinned.
“And she’s just your sister spending weekends here, right? Nothing I should be worried about?”
“She sunbathes topless, is that worrying?”
“Depends on how much you like to see her do it, Danny boy,” Cynthia continued teasing.
“You’d find her hot.”
“That didn’t answer my question…”
“She’s sexy, and I’m a man, but that’s it. Does that?”
“Yup. And so are you… sexy.”
“Makes two then.”
“Don’t say that unless you mean it, okay?”
“Have I said anything I didn’t mean so far?”
She shook her head, slowly.
“I’m not a dev, or whatever these people are called. Doesn’t mean I can’t find you sexy though.”
Cynthia beamed, shyly too. “That feels pretty fucking good to hear you say.”
“Being sexy is not about looks as such. It’s about daring to express your looking the way you are.”
“I like that,” she whispered.
“You should, Cynthia. If you don’t wish your being an amputee to define you, you shouldn’t let your longings depend on it. Your sexyness can do without people needing to be erotically attracted to what you happen to have.”
“Oof, you’re not bad at reading thoughts at all…”
“So you’re thinking the same.”
“Dreaming the same, maybe?”
“Is this a dream?”
“This is a one night stand, at least I hope it will be.”
“No worries,” he winked. “But…”
“Shh, I hear you,” she smiled. “Now find me sexy…”
There was enough said. And despite their flirting having become a serious talk, the predator look in his eyes had never disappeared.
Cynthia smiled when he got up. Smiled again when he took her hand and pulled with playful hunger. She smiled more when he curiously watched her hop towards his bedroom. Without unnecessary admiration and without finding it uneasy to see her move the way her leg amputation forced her to.
They laid down on his bed, or rather pushed each other with a broad smile. Then they let their hands have their way, as well as their lips, and then their hips. And meanwhile, one predator had awoken a second, turning the hunger to devour into a mutual one.
Their sexing was a one night stand, between people who had barely met. But it was as unleashed as if their bodies had always been together, and as if their hottest thoughts were read with flawless accuracy. And most of all, it was a man lusting for a woman and a woman lusting for a man, with the woman having a leg amputation being stressed nor avoided.
Cynthia had felt depressed at that railway station. Another affair shipwrecked on the cliffs of what seemed unrealisable desires. Sandwiched between those attracted to her looks unable to really connect, and those able to and worth connecting never attracted to her looks. It had made missing that last train feel symbolic.
But now she felt she caught it anyway. Maybe she’d meet this Dan again, maybe she wouldn’t. In terms of the hot sex they were having, it’d be a shame. In the symbolic sense of what this meant to her, it didn’t matter. This was a taste of a dilemma getting solved, or rather solving itself. And now she’d tasted from it, she’d not be brought off the right track anymore.
She clenched his glorious impaling with everything she had. He wasn’t bad, not bad at all even. What made him feel so good was not only his cock though. Dan was fucking her. His hands expressed attraction to her entire body, and not just the part she had trouble liking herself. Interestingly, his hands being all over her with so much hunger made that trouble disappear. He was touching her legless hip just like any other spot, but without the objectifying lust she’d seen so often.
It pushed her into a feeling she’d never had before. No matter how good the guy, fucking never made her orgasm, not without a little additional stimulation. Dan was bringing her excitingly close though, or rather the whole symbolic meaning of this was.
She licked her lips with mouth wide open, her bucking becoming uncontrolled. Their hefty heaving filled the room, stimulated by the squishes of urging for release. A wee bit of manual assistance, to help her explode along with him. His horny grin when she forced a hand in between their bucking bodies, followed by a very predatory look.
“Ready when you are, sexy…”
She was. And she nodded she was. And then the roaring release kicked in, running her over like a train.
But not the last…